Ascending Lauren Ch. 25

And yet arousing.

As the miles passed, Lauren leaned in closer to her daughter's boyfriend, her body language, tousled hair, and coy laughter clear in their intentions. It wasn't overt, but DeAndre seemed to pick up what she was laying down. Sitting in the front seat, Caroline feigned obliviousness, engaging her father in idle and meaningless conversation, all while sharing a knowing grin with the two in the back. The younger woman didn't mind the flirting. It was evident she and her mother were cut from the same cloth sexually. Besides, DeAndre wasn't someone Caroline was committed to; they simply enjoyed fucking. The idea that her undeniably attractive mother had captured her friend's attention only added to the excitement.

Two hundred miles later, both girls dozed off. One with her bare feet resting on the Volkswagen dashboard, the other with her head nestled on the shoulder of a burly steelworker. Soon enough, he too succumbed to sleep, his woolly hair brushing against the window. Through the windshield, the road stretched out monotonously before Corey, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the soothing melodies of classic rock on the radio. Now and then, he would glance at the sideview mirror to ensure that Zane was still following close behind. With his wife snuggled comfortably against the sizable black man, peculiar images of DeAndre with Caroline, and then with Lauren, fired in Corey's mind like a steak cooking on a hot grill. Vibrant and twisted, these illicit visions morphed and evolved as he pressed the accelerator, passing the speed limit.

DeAndre and Lauren awakening, hands exploring each other's bodies. 

Their lips meeting in a hungry, feverish kiss, a pink tongue flicking from ebony cheeks into white ones. 

Sighs and moaning. Clothes rustling. Skin. Lots of skin.

The images were so clear there was no need to look in the rearview. Even as meaningless green and white exit signs flew by, the backseat was transforming into a virtual play pit where black and white bodies contrasted in a flurry of foreplay, then outright fucking. Consumed with such wayward thoughts, a hand drifted from the steering wheel to his crotch, where he cautiously squeezed and petted a growing cock beneath rumpled denim jeans. Every so often his eyes flitted over to his daughter who was slumbering peacefully only a yard away, feet planted firmly against the windshield. Being caught would surely be the death of him. And yet...

With his throbbing six inches straining against ungiving fabric, the friction sent shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. The back of the Jetta took on an ethereal, translucent light as otherworldly hallucinations took over.

Silhouettes of figures entwined in a passionate embrace.

A symphony of moans and sighs filling the cabin.

Lauren begging to be fucked by a big black cock, admonishing Corey for his inadequacies.

'Why can't you satisfy me like other men can?'

Whispers of passion swirled around his head, their murmurs of longing and exaltation echoing through Corey's mind, causing his fingers to aggressively trace the outline of his erection beneath the jeans. It became increasingly necessary for the older man's consciousness to be divided between steering and the caressing of his rock-hard dick. The rules of the road were losing.

'Do you see what he does to me? Do you see how he makes me come unglued?'

SHIT! Did that come from the passenger seat? Startled, he glanced over to see Caroline, head propped up with one hand, grinning, staring at the tent in his pants.

NO! 

And then she wasn't. In a blink of Corey's eyes, his daughter was asleep once again, snoring even.

Fap, fap, fap.

'Why can't you do this to me, loser? Why can't you be a REAL man anymore?'

The old vacation photo of Lauren and he dangled from the rearview mirror, her smile mocking him. His hand continued to move against the bulge in his denim, grasping, pulling, and prodding. Meanwhile, fifty feet behind the Volkswagen, Zane noticed the sedan gently swaying between the white lines. It wasn't anything perilous, but attention-worthy, since their speed has increased significantly.

'Does it hurt, Twisty?' Lauren's disembodied voice oozed with sadistic pleasure. 'Knowing that there is cock filling me in ways yours no longer can? Does it sting, knowing that you'll never be enough?'

A small gasp escaped Corey's mouth, imperceptible over a Pearl Jam song. The hallucination's humiliation cut deep, but he savored it like a sweet morsel of crab meat.

Fap, fap, fap.

The pressure and heat building in his underwear were nearly unbearable now, driving him to the brink of madness. Every squeeze brought Corey closer to the edge. Imaginary screams of rapture tormented him as his hips began to buck.

'Go ahead, Cuck,' Lauren's ghost taunted, 'stroke that pathetic cock of yours. That's all it's good for these days.'

Corey grimaced. The Jetta involuntarily changed lanes, forcing two other cars to swerve with horns blaring. A profusion of cum erupted into the project manager's tighty whities, flooding his thighs with sticky goo. The reality of masturbating just feet from his sleeping daughter suddenly hit him and instantly turned his stomach. Hastily, he overcorrected the drift, first skirting the shoulder, then shooting into the middle lane where the sedan's trajectory was finally stabilized.

Wild eyes peeked first at Caroline, then in the backseat. Thank God. Beyond a little jostling, all three passengers were still sleeping, serenity on their faces. Slowly but surely, a calmness returned to Corey's breathing. He felt and saw a small wet spot forming in his crotch just above his pants leg.

For Christ's sake.

Just then his cell rang. It was Zane.

"What the fuck are you doing up there, dude?"

+++++

Chloe Ceallaigh and newly minted boyfriend Charlie Weber stepped from the back door of Randy Sandy's and savored the humid air. The club tended to crank the ac at max, and after eight hours, the warmth felt good. Glad to have made it through another shift, they simply wanted to go back to their apartment and enjoy a quiet evening together. Secretly, the young man was more than happy to go home. It beat driving Chloe's alter ego Autumn Breeze to another 'date'. The last time he had waited for a good three hours in a parking garage while her client did God knows what to her. It was something she didn't talk about, and although he was eternally curious, something he didn't press her on.

As they reached Charlie's Kia Soul, a long, sleek limousine pulled into the lot, gravel crunching until it glided to a stop in front of them. With a wary eye, they watched as a back window rolled down, revealing a handsome, debonair man in his forties.

Chloe smiled.

Santiago 'Hammertoe' Pimento. 

A notorious figure associated with the Ruidoso Clan, Santiago was known for his involvement in a variety of crimes in South Florida, including racketeering, loan sharking, and prostitution. He also had a taste for BDSM with young girls. Chloe was one of his favorites, despite having his own stable of hookers. Another man, dressed impeccably in full chauffeur gear, stepped out and approached the couple. His voice was calm and businesslike.

"Miss Autumn, my boss is in need of your services tonight. He's throwing a party."

Chloe's shoulders slumped, face etched with disappointment. She had been looking forward to a quiet evening in, away from the demands of her profession.

"I'm not really dressed for a party."

The chauffeur glanced back at Santiago, who waved his hand.

"Mr. Pimento will double your normal fee."

The stripper-escort narrowed her eyes. That would mean four grand more for her retirement fund, all for a few hours of work.

"You have to go through the service," she told him. Everything had to go through Prurient Stables or there would be trouble.

The chauffeur cleared his throat. "Please check your phone."

Chloe paused and dug the device from her purse. Sure enough, there were three messages from Prurient asking if she would accept the assignment.

"Mr. Pimento realizes this is a last-minute request, so he is prepared to add a handsome bonus too, which the service need not know about."

Charlie could see the wheels turning in his girlfriend's head. "Your call, babe. That's a lot of money."

Actually, it was a no-brainer. A small fortune for just being what she was, a whore.

"Sure thing," the redhead nodded and started towards the limo. "I'll see you at home later," she told Charlie, surprised when he grasped her elbow.

"I want to go too."

"What? Oh no, Chaz, that's against the rules. Besides, you REALLY don't want to go."

Her client's term for gangbang was 'party', and as exciting as porn made them out to be, they weren't pretty. Especially for budding romances.

"Yes...yes, I do."

"No! No, you don't."

Finally, Santiago spoke, a bit of impatience in his Spanish accent.

"Let him come," he grinned, a grill of gold teeth shining in the lot lights. "We'll make a man out of the boy."

"Shit!" Chloe wrested her arm from Charlie's grasp, clearly displeased. "Now you've done it. Do you have any idea who this guy is? What he likes?"

The club runner's face fell. He didn't mean any harm. It was just that he wanted to be part of every aspect of her life.

"I'm sorry."

A sneer formed on the stripper's lips.

"Alright," she growled, thick with annoyance. Breaking from Charlie's side she blew past the driver and ducked into the limo.

"I guess it's fuckin' take your child to work day."

+++++

DeAndre Brown's eyes fluttered open as a particularly nasty bump in the highway jostled him from a deep sleep. Head heavy from the disturbed nap, he began to sit up straight, only to realize his girlfriend's mother was still asleep in the crook of his arm. A quick look at the front seat confirmed Caroline was out as well. There was little else to do, so he cast his gaze downward, letting his eyes wander over the stunningly beautiful mature woman leaning against him. The resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny. Sure, Lauren was older, but beyond a few crow's feet and lines on her hands, her body was nothing short of flawless. A MILF by any other name. Tight, lithe...simply spectacular. Braless petite breasts, unrestricted beneath the tight turtleneck sweater, and their dark areolae, beckoned to be thumbed and pinched. Further below, fitted mom jeans contradicted their textbook definition, actually accentuating her curves and hinting at a nice, juicy cameltoe.

The virile black man sighed. In another place and time, he could see himself making this woman scream his name instead of her husband's. It wasn't like he was averse to fucking married women. Still, he checked himself; having been invited along to help this nice family move and hang out with them, this was not that place and time.

For now, he'd settle for whatever fell into his lap.

+++++

The air was filled with tension and simmering salacity as Hammertoe's sleek black limo headed to the swanky part of town. Chloe sat next to the mob boss in white leggings and sports bra, staring with exasperation at Charlie, who sat opposite the pair, looking back with inquisitive eyes, not sure if he had made the right decision to come along. The young man was used to most of 'Autumn's' clientele. Most were married, not particularly attractive, and unsure of themselves. This guy was different. Sitting confidently with one hand on Chloe's knee, Santiago looked like he was in organized crime. Fancy suit and vest, exuding an attitude that was just north of cocky. Contrary to most mobsters depicted in the movies, Pimento was fit and handsome with a chiseled face and well-groomed beard, meticulously shaped to trace the outline of a strong jaw. Yet, in his eyes, there was something sinister, something depraved. Scary, but invigorating.

"And who is this again?" the dapper capo squeezed Chloe's leg while evaluating the unexpected guest with a guarded eye.

"This is Charlie. He works with me at the club. We're...roommates."

The hand moved up to the inside of a thigh. "Is that right?"

Roommates? It was clear from that introduction that Chloe did not want their true relationship revealed.

"That's right," Charlie feigned a smile. "Roommates."

Why the hell had he asked to come along?

The man they called Hammertoe blinked, then cocked his head to one side. "I have been watching you, amigo. The way you've looked at her since we left the club...the uncertainty when I laid my hand on her...the unspoken agitation when I touch her. This is not the indifference of someone who is simply a roommate. Or even a friend."

Neither Chloe nor Charlie said a thing.

"If this is true," Santiago continued, "you won't mind me doing this."

With a boldness one would expect of someone in his position, he moved the hand to the redhead's crotch. Using most of his fingers, he began massaging her pussy through the tights. Chloe gasped, then spread her legs wider.

"We've been friends too, haven't we, Autumn? For a very long time."

The stripper agreed and let out a moan.

The color drained from Charlie's face, but he did not look away.

"You see, roommate, she is without a doubt my favorite whore. The nastiest of the nasties."

Hearing his longtime friend and now the love of his life being called out made his cheeks flush, the heat radiating to his ears.

"Oh, you didn't know? Has she not told you of her adventures?"

Chloe's eyes widened, protesting his disclosure, but slammed shut again when he pressed his palm into her crotch. "Mmmm."

"Dress up, role play, latex..."

Charlie swallowed hard. He dared not say a thing.

"Rimming, anal, plugs..."

The redhead's eyes opened again, head shaking a silent plea.

"Tight seals, slavery, assorted toilet play. Tell me, friend, have you ever pissed in her mouth? I must tell you, it's a thing to behold."

"Sir!" Chloe sat upright. "Please!"

Santiago grinned from ear to ear. "I'm sorry, love. I just thought Charlie here might want to know the things his roommate does for a living. Now, let's see. What can I do for you?"

Without asking, his fingers sank into her slit, taking the legging material with it. He could feel the cotton wick away the dampness as she cried out. Applying just the right amount of pressure, Pimento continued to tease her now swollen clit with gentle circles. The dancer's hips instinctively rose and ground against his touch, a silent plea for more.

"What do you want, slut?"

Squinting, Chloe opened her lips, but just slightly. "I want to cum, sir."

Charlie watched in quiet disbelief as the mob boss skillfully pleasured his girl, who was anything but complaining. With each dig, Santiago could feel the wetness increasing, the fabric growing slick beneath his fingertips. Both men could smell the sweet tang of her arousal as her pussy throbbed against his hand, begging for deeper penetration.

"Then do it, love. Cum for Santiago."

As Chloe arched her back, he used the other hand to press against the hard clit protruding through the mesh, drawing shudders of pleasure deep within.

"Oh...fuck..."

"What do you think, Charlie? Shall I let her cum?"

The boy's gaze flitted between the older man's face and hers. His mouth was arid, making it difficult to even move his tongue to speak. "Yes," he croaked weakly.

Chloe's hips bucked against the Spanish jefe's palm, with a need for release becoming undeniable. Pervasive keening filled the confined space of the limo, loud and unfettered. Even the chauffeur glanced in the mirror as the sounds grew in intensity. Santiago's touch became more insistent, his fingers slipping beneath her tights, finally making direct contact with her eager cunt. A finger plunged into the waiting slit, then another, responding to the tightness and warmth that enveloped them. Drenched pussy walls clenched around each digit, thankful for the incursion.

"Harder...f-f-faster," Chloe begged, words punctuated by gasps and moans. She was losing her mind now, slick wet noises accompanying the flowing juices that ran down her ass crack and onto the leather seat.

Hammertoe continued his relentless assault, hand a blur now as they hit just the right spots. Tensing and relaxing, the escort's muscles coiled like a spring as numerous fingers pistoned in and out of her. Soon, Chloe's nails were digging into the leather seat, her hips lifting to meet every thrust.

"Oh, god... I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna fucking cum!" Chloe's voice quaked, lips quivering.

With a pleased look on his face, Santiago paused, then forced his entire fist into her pussy,

"Oh, FUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK. Yes... yes... YES!"

With her body convulsing in a powerful orgasm, Chloe's hips lifted from the seat, pressing her taut nipples against the fabric of her top, as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her. The odor was unmistakable as she came, drenching Santiago's hand with copious amounts of clear, sticky marinade. The crime boss held her tightly as her pussy clenched and released, clenched and released. His eyes were locked onto Charlie but his own arousal was clearly evident in the bulge straining against his pants. As the dancer's cries gradually subsided, her torso went limp, breathing ragged.

Santiago smiled. "And that is how friends take care of one another, yes?"

Chloe nodded and was about to say something, when the big man cut her off, grabbed a handful of red hair, and forced her to her knees on the floorboard.

"Now, from one friend to another..."

With a heart beating out of his chest, Charlie watched with disconcerted and perverted wonder as the stripper unzipped the wealthy criminal's fly and fished his cock out.

For the second time in as many weeks, he was going to watch his girl suck another guy's dick. 

+++++

A yawn next to Corey caused him to glance over at his daughter, who was awakening from her nap. He glanced at his crotch, hoping there was no evidence from his little jerk-off session.

"How long still?" she asked, stretching.

"A little over an hour, give or take."

Looking back over her shoulder, Caroline saw Lauren still snoozing on DeAndre. The handsome black man had a big grin on his face.

Uh-huh, I know what you're thinking, ya perv, she wanted to say but didn't.

If there was one thing they both had in common, it was sex. Dirty, unwholesome sex. And after what he had said about her mother the night before...well.

'Your momma's hot, baby doll. Wouldn't mind laying this black pipe to her white snatch too.'

Caroline shook her head. She didn't own the guy, couldn't, and wouldn't tell him what or what not to do. But she couldn't lie: the prospect of the woman who had brought her into the world taking black meat was kinda hot. Whether it would actually happen was anyone's guess.

One thing was for sure though. Mom was definitely curious about black dick.

Would she ever cross over to the dark side?

+++++

Chloe glanced at Charlie and saw the stew of jealousy, envy, misplaced anger, and arousal in his eyes. Without hesitation, and almost as punishment for asking to come along, she pumped the mobster's cock in her hand, feeling its pulsating veins and warmth. She could already taste the pre-cum oozing from the tip and ran her tongue over the glans. Condoms were a must for fucking, but not for blowjobs. At least not with this client.

Leaning forward, her lips parted, taking him into her mouth. With a long lick, she could feel it throbbing against her cheeks. Skilled hands stroking his shaft, her head bobbed up and down, taking more of him in with each pass. Occasionally the average-sized dick hit the back of her throat, triggering an involuntary gag reflex that lasted only a second but caused tears nonetheless. That was okay. Chloe wanted to please him, to show him why she was his favorite whore.