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Jack looked at Clyde, face buried deep inside this smokeshow's firecrotch, groping her grade-A D-cups like a champ.
It looked like a porn he was beating off to, but in technicolor and smell-o-vision.
What the fuck. Clyde had managed to get his button fly open, so he wouldn't have to do anything gay. Jack knelt down and, turning his face away from the male butt in front of him, gripped Clyde's pants and pulled them down.
Then he unzipped his own pants and started massaging his dick through his underpants. Brittany kicked at him with her foot, so he took it again in his other hand and tried to rub it like she liked.
"Oh my god, Clyde that feels amazing!" She burst out. "Thank you for licking my pussy so so good.
The praise motivated Clyde, and he started to go to town even harder down there. One hand of his hands was still grasping in huge handfuls of breast flesh, but she had the other and was madly sucking on his fingers.
"You, foot boy. Use your mouth." Britts voice drifted up to him, her tone commanding.
Jack started to lick the sole of her foot, and took her toes inside his mouth. She wiggled them all around. Jack reacted like he was being kissed, and his boner grew more. He pulled his dick out of his pants and started masturbating properly.
Clyde still had his boxers on but his dick was rock solid underneath. Jack could see just from the shape of the tentpole that he had a big shaft, bigger than his.
Brittany climbed up fully onto the pallet, and got on all fours. "Oh my god baby I am so ready for you to fuck my face. Don't you want to fuck my face?"
Jack stood up and started to move forward but Brittany checked him immediately.
"Get the fuck back down there, Jackoff — I was talking to Clyde. And why aren't you taking pictures?"
She looked up at Clyde with giant, pleading eyes, her face framed by her glorious mane of red hair.
"Clyde, baby, I need your cock down my throat! Give it to me!"
Clyde took his steel shaft in one hand and started towards her.
"Jack, you can lick my asshoOOUAGH!." Is all she got out before her mouth was all of a sudden filled with Clyde's shaft. She held his hands and squeezed them rhythmically as she slobbered on his cock.
She deep-throated that whole fucking thing, grinding her nose against his pubic hair, and then like thrusting with her neck up and down just a little bit. Then she swept back out and his cock hung there, perched upon her lower lip.
She balanced the head of Clyde's cock on the top of her tongue, and then she spoke, bouncing the dick up and down with each syllable, sometimes bouncing it to her teeth, sometimes back on her tongue, but always catching it, always controlling it.
"Clyde, your cock is amazing!" When she closed her mouth for the M sound in 'amazing' she gave the head of his dick a big kiss. "It feels so good inside my mouth — I just want to eat! you! up!"
Her head slipped around so her lips were gripping his cock sideways. She mock bit at his dick like a dog would a bone, and then she ran her head up and down the length of his wood, slathering her lips along his shaft.
She spoke into the side of his cock, tickling it with her teeth, "With a side of mashed potatoes and butter."
And then she was on it again, plunging him all the way to the back of her throat.
She said something with her face down there, too, grunting out garbled words through her 7-inch gag. Neither man understood them, but her eyes glinted as she choked/spoke.
Jack took the phone and started taking pictures of the epic blowjob she was treating Clyde to. That didn't last long, as the pressure in his pants became unbearable. Dropping the phone again, he pulled his jeans all the way off and freed his dick. As soon as it was out of his underpants it grew to full size.
He took the phone again and crawled towards her ass. He framed her butthole right in the center and shot a few off, increasing the zoom. Then he traded out his mouth for the phone. As he worshipped Brittany's red little rosebud, he started jacking off.
There was something intoxicating about hearing her slurp all over Clyde's cock.
Her whole body was moving forward and back as she inhaled Clyde, and her butt kept pulling away from Jack and then hitting him in the face.
Brittany pulled back from the vacuum attack for a minute, tickling Clyde's cockhead with her tongue.
"Did you think this would happen, baby?"
When she spoke her lips were directly under the middle of his cockhead, and they brushed against him with every word.
"When we were outside and you first saw me?" Quick as a dart his dick engulfed, and just as quick out again.
"Bet ya did! I know what boys think when they see me."
She nosed under his dick and slapped it across her whole face, covering it with outstretched fingers.
"That's what this little fucker who's licking my asshole thought, RIGHT JACKOFF?"
Brittany tipped her neck back, sliding Clyde's dick out from under her fingers.
"But it pays to be a gentleman, Clyde." She took his dick inside her open mouth, resting it on her lower teeth, and then she ever so lightly dragged it out.
Above her, Clyde was in the stratosphere. This encounter was beyond his wildest fantasies — a glamour model redhead was porn star fucking him in the most creatively dirty ways, while dominating someone who hassled him.
It was about as much as he could handle psychologically, and more than he could handle physically. Or it should have been — Clyde didn't get laid that often. But under her expert control, he was surfing the wave like a champ, so hard it felt like his skin might burst but not his balls, not yet. Not until she was satisfied.
"Because now I'm gonna fuck your brains out! I'm all yours, baby."
Brittany disengaged from his dick swiveled down onto her back. Her ass pulled away from Jack's face, and her legs kicked up out of his grip. Brittany grabbed her shoes by the heel.
"Jackie, make sure he gets inside me properly." She ordered him.
But Clyde didn't need any assistance, thank god, and he used his hands to guide his cock into her pussy. As soon as he pressed in, Britt let go of her legs and they flew down to land on his shoulders.
Her knees flexed in rhythm, steering Clyde's body back and forth. His shaft slid seamlessly in and out of her soaking wet slit, and she grunted out her pleasure. Her hips bucked back and forth against him, increasing the friction.
Jack just stood there and watched. With nothing available to touch, apart from himself, he got the phone again.
He watched the janitor fuck this supermodel like a porn star. She was screwing herself down on his dick like she needed it.
He pulled his boxers the rest of the way off and started to really work his cock, turned on by the spectacle unfolding in front of him. He kept shooting, holding the phone on one hand.
All of a sudden Brittany's wordless moans switched up, and Jack heard his name come from those angel lips. "Jaaaaaack!" She called to him through her pleasure.
Bout fucking time — guess Clyde had dibs on her main hole, but she had two more. He lifted his dick and walked around in front of her.
With his dick on his hand he tried to angle it towards her mouth, but she growled at him. Actually growled. Maybe that was a moan. But he was cowed nonetheless -- those teeth looked sharp.
"Don't you waggle that fucking thing in front of me — if I want to choke on some dick, Clyde has me covered. Right baby?" She called over her shoulder to him and was rewarded by an increase in speed.
"If I want to choke a dick, on the other hand, you're my guy." Her hand snapped out and slapped him hard. He dropped the phone, but she didn't seem to notice.
She grabbed Jack by the shirt and pulled him down to his knees. He was bigger than her but his body willingly moved any way she pushed him.
"You. Don't. UH! Understand." she heaved out the words in between massive shudders of pleasure.
"He's fucking me so good now! OOOH! I'm fucking hot! OH MY GOD! I get laid whenever I want. YES! YES! I've been fucked by some real rockstar hotshots before. OOOOH! And this guy -"
She grabbed Jack by the neck, hands shaking from her pounding but still strong.
She arrowed her eyes on his.
"— this guy Clyde is making me come like — OH FUCK! Why aren't you taking pictures of this, you asshole?!?"
She spit in Jack's face, and then started licking it. In between sloppy laps she continued her dirty talk about Clyde as often as she could catch her breath.
Jack was still rock hard, his solidly average five and a half inch dick swinging between his legs at the same rate as Brittany was getting fucked. All three of them were pushed back and forth by Clyde's machinelike thrusting into her pussy as she lay atop the pallets. Jack fumbled for the phone but it fell to the floor.
Brittany reached down and slapped Jack's dick, swinging it over to the left. She bit at his lip and moaned her pleasure into his face. When his engorged dick swung back, she slapped it again, sending it back like a pendulum. She kept this up for thrust after thrust, devouring Jack's face and batting at his dick like a cat while Clyde took care of business.
After a little while, she used her arm to press it up against his stomach. As Clyde fucked her and she kissed Jack, she began rubbing his dick against his stomach.
Clyde started increasing his pounding, and hit the sweet spot. Britt forgot all about Jack's dick, mashing her face into his while she came hard.
Clyde finished soon after, pulling out and came all over Brittany's back. Some of it splashed up and hit Jack in the face.
Britt spun over and sat up. She flung her arms around Clyde's neck and began nuzzling him, kissing him on the lips and beaming smiles up into his face.
"That was amazing, Clyde, baby. Thank you." They shared a micro-moment of tenderness that was broken when Jack cleared his throat.
"Gimme just a second to take care of this, won't you?" She asked Clyde, who nodded gamely, a bit blissed out from his orgasm.
Quick as a bunny, Brittany pulled off Jack, hopped off the pallet stack and spun around. "Alright, Jackoff, you want some sloppy seconds?"
"Yeah baby you ready for the Jack Hamm-" Jack began but Brittany cut him off before he finished.
"Shut the fuck up and make it quick." She bent at the waist and put her arms on the pallets, sticking her ass out towards him.
Jack slipped his abused cock into her sopping hole and began pumping madly.
"You were so good, Clyde!" Brittany cooed in Clydes arms as Jack fucked her madly from behind. "Your cock is amazing!"
"Thank you," Clyde stammered. "Don't you need to ..." he gestured up towards the guy who was fucking her.
"No! You already gave me two orgasms! He can take care of himself."
"Wait — do you mind?" She looked at Clyde for an answer.
Clyde shook his head, dazed at the situation.
"Ok Jackoff. Time to come. Cuz I'm done in 10, 9, 8."
Brittany counted backwards but just to be a bitch she stopped at four, flexing her hips and popping off of Jack's dick with a casual "I'm done."
Jack let out a burst of sound and grabbed his dick, jacking it the rest of the way to orgasm. He blew a massive load all over the bubble wrap on the floor.
He went into a strange head space as he came — this had been like no other hookup he'd ever had. Normally he was the macho one, telling the girls what to do.
But damn had he been turned on like crazy! He hadn't come that much in who knows long.
Brittany's voice brought him back to reality. "Ok Jackie, get the fuck out."
"Go on!" She waved her hands dismissively, and Jack backed out the door. She slammed it shut after him.
Brittany turned towards Clyde and enveloped him in a hug. She kissed him slowly and passionately, before pulling back and saying. "Thank you."
Clyde began to laugh. "You just gave me the hottest fuck I've ever had ever and now you're thanking me?"
"Well yes." Brittany cocked her head. "For taking pictures. You didn't have to do that. You could have come onto me all caveman like Jack did."
"No I don't think I would have done that. I'm not exactly what you would call assertive."
"Oh you just wait till I get done with you, Eliza Doolittle."
"Huh?"
Then she kissed him again and he shut up.
** 5-5-4: Sam the Sound Guy
Sam the Sound Engineer trudged up the stairs to the main level of the club. He was knackered — he worked at a theatre downtown, and they were loading in a new show. Sam had put in a ten hour day of hauling speakers up to the grid with rope, pushing heavy racks around and carrying endless stacks of cable. He was beat to shit.
Luckily his night job was less demanding — the club had two big sound systems, and he had to keep them working. The gear was nice, and relatively new, so it was more tending than actual fixing.
Sam slipped by the dance floor, and it was a mark of how tired he was that he didn't notice the girls — with one notable exception. As a rule, the girls were hard to miss, and usually Sam stayed back of house because he could not trust himself not to stare like an idiot at some of the stunners who partied at the club.
These girls, it was impossible not to stare at them — every square millimeter of their appearance was calculated to drive dudes wild, from impeccable makeup to their scandalous outfits, so short & tight, to the model bodies those outfits contained.
Poor Sam — during the day at the theatre it was fine flirty actresses, and their mind games, and at night it was hip club vixens.
He had a thing for feet & heels, so the club was special torment.
Sam was pretty decent looking, but he wasn't great with the girls. They made him nervous. Sound systems were more his speed — when he was mixing a show, he could dance his fingers across a sound board like he was playing the harp, twisting little knobs every so slightly, pushing buttons at exactly the right time, working five faders at once with different muscles in his rather large fingers & hands.
Sadly those skills didn't translate to social dexterity. He had had exactly two girlfriends in his life so far and he was 32. Too much work, he told himself, and that was half true.
But as he was walking down the hallway in his workday trance, a girl came out of the women's room and almost ran smack into him.
She had pale skin and dark purple goth makeup, and was dressed in black liquid leggings and a purple top. Her high heeled boots were silver.
"Well," her voice was warm honey, musky and resonant. "Where is your head at?"
Sam gaped for a second at her fine facial structure and her even finer makeup. Then he said, "Oh sorry — I'm just a little tired from work."
"Pity." She considered him. "I require quite a lot of energy ..."
She let that sit in the air, and he just had to respond.
"... for what?" He asked.
She smiled larger than he would have thought possible. She held up her hand for him to look at for a moment, and then pulled it back and slapped her ass as hard as she could. Her palm collided with her leggings with a sound like a gunshot. The pants deformed as a slight ripple passed down her leg.
Then she pushed past him and walked back to the dance floor. Sam watched her leave, his imagination running wild. Then he started walking again.
He slipped onto the warm amp room and dropped his bag on the desk. Then he relaxed into the green camp chair in the corner under the cable reels, taking the load of his legs for the first time all day.
He kicked his feet up on the five gallon bucket that was there for that purpose, and put his hands behind his back, remembering back a few years ago to a New Years Eve party he had worked in Union Square.
It had been a wild meat market, and the girls were astonishing. He remembered watching the DJ's agent finger his tall skinny girlfriend's ass through her wisp-thin flowy pants, after snorting a bump off the back of a record sleeve.
He remembered heading back to the amp room there, which was behind the dance floor where the tables were stored, and stumbling over a blonde in a blue dress fucking one of the waitstaff. Her tits were still covered by the dress like everything was normal, but it was pulled up over her hips, as she was plugged by the caterer. The guy saw him come in but didn't give a fuck, kept hammering away.
And he remembered halfway through the night, when the venue was roaring like one of those cavernous rave warehouses in the industrial district.
He was down on his hands and knees retaping the cables that ran to the side room. The tape had come unstuck when someone had spilled their entire fucking drink of it, and the loose cables were a tripping hazard.
He remembered tearing the gaff with his teeth, looking up, and seeing a forest of beautiful legs and heels. It had been around the corner from the line to the ladies room, and there had been like fifteen fucking hotties in their tiny flirty bodycon dresses, and there were miles of tanned bare leg. His face was no more than six inches away from the nearest girl, and he could see all the way up her canary yellow dress. Her panties were white but sheer, and he could see a shadowy cameltoe.
He lazily massaged the front of his pants, but didn't have the energy to unzip them
The noise of the fans from the three big racks of power amplifiers made a hypnotic thrumm in the room as Sam the Sound Engineer shut his eyes and sacked out.
** 5-5-5: DJ Takeover
"OH YEAH! OH FUCK YEAH!
OH YEAH! OH FUCK YEAH!"
DJ Damm Jiffy pumped his fist in the air in time to the track.
He was looking out over the dance floor from a DJ booth that was shaped like a
Monster Truck cab. He was running Scratch Live, his controller turntables laid out vertically, and a pair of MacBooks floated above the decks on low stands.
His headphones were on one shoulder, and he cocked his head over them like he was on the phone as he dived into his library in search of an idea that had just occurred to him. Yes! He put it on cue and listened. A little slow. Ok so beatmatch it up to speed and it's golden.
He shrugged off the headphones and teased with the crossfader, dipping into the new track for a moment on the 3s, then snapping back.
The crowd sensed a change was coming and started to open up.
DJ Damm Jiffy slammed the crossfader over and was rewarded when the crowd cheered, and began to bump harder than ever.
He looked down in front of the booth and saw a golden starburst of hair, flying back and forth as it's owner swung her body back and forth.
It's owner was a svelte Black woman, with a tight trim stomach and long powerful legs. She was tall, over six foot, with that giant halo of curls. Her skin was light brown, tan and even, and her tracksuit cling to her every impressive curve.
Curves which were rapidly oscillating up and down in the most distracting way as she let her body move to the music.
She was clearly dancing with another fine looking woman. Her friend looked totally different. Slick and pale, with rich red lipstick.
She was in a dark blue dress with black trim, slit up the side to reveal a healthy helping of creamy smooth thigh. Sharp heels finished the slickster hipster irresistible look.
They were both looking up at him as he moved behind the decks, and he saw them notice his attention. The one with the hair smiled a huge smile and grabbed the pale one by the arm. She whispered in her ear, and the smaller woman suddenly looked straight at him.
Oh shit she caught him staring. Better focus on the playlist for a minute or two.
He wrenched his eyes away from the pair and sorted through the next few tracks. All was in order. He mostly planned his sets out completely in advance, but every so often he'd improvise if the mood struck.
