Blowjob Contest: Mother vs Daughter

The sand seemed to throb in the light of the morning sun as I sat at the bar by the beach. I was hunkered down in the shelter of my bloody mary as my brain was buffeted by a distressing blend of anxiety and anticipation. Ordinarily I'd have been thrilled when my wife Beth told me the resort allowed topless sunbathing, but she also told me she and our daughter Riley were both planning to give it a try. I was having some mixed feelings about that.

I tried saying no; they successfully said why not. I ranted and seethed a bit, but, as Beth pointed out, Riley was eighteen now and legally old enough to decide who got to see her tits. I didn't want to start our first morning of vacation with a big argument that I had already lost, so I announced I needed a drink and left for the bar.

It wasn't long before they arrived on the promenade with their towels and tote-bags, wearing sandals, floppy hats and a pair of tiny matching bikinis Beth had bought special for the trip. It was my first time seeing the girls in those bikinis. My wife looked like a wet dream; my daughter looked like a heart attack.

I didn't fault Beth for wanting to show off today. Her lifelong dedication to yoga and bland, unappetizing meals had kept her curvaceous body lean and tightly muscled through the years. Naturally, I appreciated the results, but I also got a thrill seeing other guys react lustfully to Beth's big tits, flat abs and tight, round ass. Back in our younger days, when we used to swing occasionally, I always got a special thrill watching other men get horny for my wife. It felt like I was reexperiencing my desire for her anew through another man's eyes. However, in the last few years Riley had rapidly grown from an awkward kid into a more coltish copy of her voluptuous mother and suddenly I was seeing dudes checking out my daughter as they had always done with my wife. Watching the hard, predatory stares of the staff and guests of the resort as they ogled every curve and crease of Riley's young body really opened my eyes to the intensely desirable woman she was becoming.

It was with that perspective that I watched as she paused at the edge of the promenade while her mother started off across the beach towards a couple of unoccupied lounge chairs. Without hesitation, she plucked open the knots holding her bikini top in place, whipped it off and stuffed it into her tote-bag. "Sweet Jesus," said the bartender as he adjusted his glasses to watch Riley trot off across the hot sand, her big, shapely breasts bouncing and swaying beautifully all the way.

As I sat unsuccessfully trying not to think about my child's sexy tits while staring at the wood grain in the mahogany bar, a short, squared-jawed man with a cop-style mustache and a muscular physique sat on the stool next to me. The dense odor of his cologne overpowered the taste of my drink. I shot him a dirty look that he didn't notice because he was focused on looking out across the beach. After a bit he rapped the bar with his knuckles and smiled at me with big, distractingly white teeth.

"Hey bro, you should check this out," he said.

I raised my head to look towards Beth and Riley. Beth's tits were out now too. They were both wearing nothing but their tiny bikini bottoms and a burgeoning layer of sweat that highlighted the taut curves of their bodies as it glistened on their pale flesh in the tropical sun. They sat one behind the other as they helped each other apply a healthy layer of SPF-Whatever to the difficult-to-access regions of their pale skin. After Beth patted Riley's back to indicate she was done, Riley stood to let her mother apply the sunscreen to the backs of her thighs and along the lower regions of her ass. She took the bottle from Beth and blasted a heavy dollop of the white cream across her chest which she began to rub into her flesh with a thorough circular motion around her breasts, across her nipples and down along her abdomen to the top of the triangle of scarlet fabric that barely covered her pussy. Her face was serene as she surveyed the surrounding crowd through her mirror-lensed sunglasses.

"Yeah," I said without enthusiasm. "Awesome."

"No fucking kidding," he said with vigor. He leaned closer: "I tell you what, I'm down here on business, but my new number one priority this week is to fuck that cute slut."

"What make you think she's a slut?" I asked.

"Come on man, she's showing her tits to everyone!"

"It's a topless beach," I said. "That doesn't mean she's a slut."

"That hot little cunt ain't no virgin, I'd bet money on that."

I sighed inwardly because he was right. A while back, Riley had confided to Beth that she and her boyfriend at the time had started having sex. When Beth told me, I'd had a minor freak-out which prompted Beth to give me quite an earful about my patriarchal attitude towards female sexuality. Suffice it to say, after that I ceded any active responsibility for my little girl's developing sexuality. Which was fine with me. Thinking about that topic invariably aroused vivid mental images of my little girl with her pretty face distorted in erotic release as her writhing body was repeatedly penetrated by some young creep's dick. If Beth wanted to worry about that shit, she was welcome to it.

"By the way, I'm Vince," said the man next to me.

"Paul," I answered without looking at him.

"Hey, we should partner up. I'll go for the younger one and you get the mature slut she's with. They're both pretty hot. Honestly, I'd do either, but I already called dibs on the kid."

"So, you're here on business?" I said. I didn't actually give a shit about whatever this asshole considered his "business", but I certainly didn't want to hear any more of his bullshit regarding my wife and daughter.

"Sure am," he said as he handed me a card.

"What's this?" I asked as I took it. It was glossy and bright white with: "Sindy Streets' DEEP PINK" printed on it in raised magenta lettering. There was a local address at the bottom corner but no other information.

"It's a club."

"Your club?"

He shook his head. "Remember Sindy Streets, the porn actress? It's her club. I'm just an investor."

"A sex club run by a porn star in a resort town?" I asked wryly. Yeah, that made sense with this asshole.

"Yeah. That's right. The twist is, it's actually for women.... It's, like, a place where it's safe for horny bitches to get anonymously slutty while they're far from home."

"Ah! A feminist sex club," I said. "Very nice."

More and more I was wishing Beth and I were down her alone. A feminist sex club sounded like it was something Beth would love.

Vince got close and spoke intensely. "If you think you might want to check it out, you should come tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"No offense, bro, but they're very selective about which guys they let in. This is a woman's club, right? I mean, you ain't bad looking. You still got your hair, you're tall and in real good shape, but you're a little old."

"I'm only forty-two, dude."

"Yeah... but, I'm just saying, I doubt you're getting waved in on a normal night. Unless you got a woman to bring you. They'll let you in if you come with a woman, no problem. But, without a woman, tonight's your best bet."

"So, what's so special about tonight then?"

"They need extra dudes because of the blow-job contests. That churns through a lot of cock, let me tell you."

"I don't..."

"How about we go over to those hotties and invite them right now? You can be my wingman. I bet they'd be into it."

"Look, buddy. I'm here with my wife and kid. I'm not going to any sex clubs."

"Oh. No offense bro. I didn't know. But maybe just ask your wife if she'd be into it. Women will surprise you sometimes when they're far from home and they have a chance to get wild."

"I'll keep it in mind," I said, and I handed him back his card. He shrugged, said he'd see me around and walked back into the hotel.

I signaled the bartender for another drink.

*****

At dinner, Beth and Riley were in high spirits after spending all day sunbathing, swimming and showing off their womanly attributes. They both glowed with the pink heat of near-sunburn and their hair glittered with new natural highlights. Thankfully, they were both dressed for the restaurant, so it was nice to sit with my family without having to avoid looking at my daughter's boobs.

I had just woken up from the nap I'd taken after a few hours of day drinking, and I was feeling sour. "I had an interesting conversation this morning," I said. "Some guy at the bar told me he was making it his goal this week to have sex with our daughter."

"Was he hot?" asked Riley.

"What!?"

"I only asked if he was hot."

"He called you a slut. He called both of you sluts."

"Well, our tits were out," said Beth. "What did you say to him?"

"I changed the topic."

"Why? Were you too embarrassed to admit the two topless women on the beach were your wife and daughter?"

"I... uh..."

"I guess it was easier to just let him verbally slander us while making plans to screw your teenage daughter, huh?"

"..."

"Just out of curiosity, was he hot?" asked Riley. Her big, brown eyes were playfully onery.

"I don't know what you think is hot!"

"Riley don't ask your father to rate guys for you. You know how dedicated he is to his heterosexuality."

"You two are driving me fricking crazy."

"No, we're not honey. You are. You need to trust that our daughter is smart enough to not do anything dangerously stupid."

I looked at Riley. "Can you promise us you won't do anything stupid?"

"Actually, mom said 'dangerously' stupid. I might be up for something a little stupid."

"Riley, please don't antagonize your dad."

Riley was laughing. "OK, OK. I'll be a good girl," she said.

"Thank you."

Now that they were done teasing me, they both gave me the exact same amused smile. Once again, I was amazed at how completely Riley resembled her mother. Their big, brown eyes, expressive faces and silky, sable-brown hair were exact matches, except that Beth kept her hair cut above her shoulders while Riley's cascaded down to the small of her back. Riley looked so much like Beth had in college that I occasionally worried she might one day develop a libido equally as ravenous.

"So, what are you two party animals doing tonight?" asked Riley as she wiggled her eyebrows at us.

"That depends on your father. If I can get him de-grumped, I might see if I can drag him out to a show or something."

"You have plans?" I asked Riley.

"I'm going dancing. No big deal."

"Maybe we can go too," I suggested.

"I'm not going dancing with my parents!"

"Let your daughter be young, Paul. We can do something else."

"Thanks mom," said Riley with a big smile. "I'm full. Mind if I go get ready."

"Sure. Have fun sweetie."

"And be careful," I said to her back as she departed.

"Aw, poor honey-bunny," said Beth to me. "Having a hot daughter is driving him crazy."

"It doesn't help that you seem to be trying to get her laid."

"Oh, don't be a dum-dum. She doesn't need my help for that. Personally, I'm glad we're rid of Riley for the rest of the evening because I've got something that will make you feel better, something special for just you and me."

In her hand she was holding a card that read: "Sindy Streets' DEEP PINK."

******

My mood had much improved when the taxi pulled up to the hotel portico and Beth showed the old Caribbean driver the card for Deep Pink. He looked Beth up and down, appreciating her tight black mini dress and lingering too long on her barely contained cleavage. He gave her a sleazy grin and winked.

"Deep Pink, eh? Beautiful lady's gonna have a gooood time tonight. Heh, heh, heh..."

'You know it!" she said and patted him on the cheek.

We were both in high spirits as we anticipated our first visit to a sex club in many years. We had kept an open relationship in college and had experimented with swinging a bit when we were newly married, but that kind of thing just got more and more inconvenient as our adult responsibilities piled up. The idea of once again stepping into a maelstrom of casual, anonymous sex was making my palms sweaty and my cock hard. I looked Beth in the eye as the Taxi drove through the town's narrow streets and I saw a deep sexual hunger roiling within her.

The taxi dropped us off at a squat grey building on the edge of town. It was completely unremarkable but for the crowd of a few dozen men milling around outside. A very large Caribbean man in a tight black tee-shirt and black cargo pants was working the door. He looked up at Beth and smiled big and friendly. "Hey hot mama, ladies enter at the other door." He pointed to another door with no queue.

"What about my husband?"

He looked me over. "Sure, he can go in with you, if you want him. But we got better options inside. Ha-ha-ha!"

We entered and paid. Ladies got in free. The cover was steep for me, but not too bad since I was accompanying my wife. According to the sign, the cost was insanely high for unaccompanied men. When I commented on this, the matronly woman working the box office just shrugged. "Supply and demand, darling."

Next was a waiting room. After a cute black woman in a tight pink dress took our temperatures, drew our blood and took swabs of our throats, we were given wristbands and told to wait until the number on our wristbands were called. As we waited, I saw another couple, a hot couple in their late twenties/early thirties, get turned away because of unsatisfactory test results. As they left looking embarrassed, Beth and I exchanged an approving nod. It was nice to see that this place enforced its standards.

Finally, our numbers came up. We were brought into a small room by a "consultant." She was blonde, about thirtyish, wore a tight pink mini-dress and spoke with a bubbly Australian accent. She introduced herself as Suzi and began going over the rules of the club with us. There were a lot of rules.

As Suzi spoke, we heard the thump-thump-thump of the bass track from the club's main room change to the sound of someone speaking over a microphone and the responding crowd noise. I could hear cheering, laughter and applause rising and falling along to whatever was going on back in the depths of the club.

"What's going on out there?" I asked.

"We're having our blow-job contests tonight," answered Suzi.

Beth's eyes got wide. "Blow-job contests?"

"Oh yes. They're quite popular. Are you interested?"

Beth looked at me with her big brown eyes in full begging-puppy mode. "I think I am," she said. "But my husband gets final say...."

"Well, you need to decide right now. One of our shareholders just brought in a girl he was super eager to see compete, so we slotted in an extra round. But we still need an opponent for her."

"What would Beth win?" I asked.

"Other than getting to suck a lot of cocks, not much, to be honest: a plastic tiara, coupon book, some drink vouchers. You also get to decide the punishment for your losing opponent. That's always fun."

"Punishment?"

"Not actual punishment. Sexy punishment. You can have her chained up where everyone can grope her and whatnot, or you can have her eat you out, or fuck you with a strap-on, or you can fuck her with a strap-on if you really want. But the usual punishment is to have all men who didn't get to come during the contest gangbang the loser: like, ninety percent of the time. So don't compete if you don't want to risk a gangbang."

"I'm willing to risk a gangbang," said Beth as she looked at me.

"OK," I said as my heart fluttered in my chest and my cock grew firmer in my trousers. "Let's sign my wife up for the blowjob contest."

*****

Suzi led us to a unisex locker room where Beth removed her dress to reveal the classic black-satin bustier, garters and stockings combo she was wearing underneath. The lace cups of the bustier clearly displayed her rosy nipples and barely contained the quivering flesh of her breasts. She wore no panties, so her smooth ass and bare pussy were completely exposed and fully accessible. Since I had bought no accoutrements, I was given a threadbare terrycloth robe that was so short the head of my cock hung beneath the hem. I suppose that should have made me feel proud, but mostly I just felt silly.

After we surrendered our phones, Suzi led us through a pink padded door into a crowded ballroom decorated in glass, plastic and chrome and lit here and there with intensely pink neon lights. On the stage, a woman with curly blonde hair and shapely little tits was on her knees as two red-faced men stood flanking her, stroking their cocks with their florid heads aimed point-blank at her upturned face. As we watched, one of them came and his thick load splashed across her nose and forehead to hang entangled in her hair in thick, pearly blobs.

Suzi turned to us. "See there? She lost the previous contest. Looks like her punishment is bukkake. That's another popular one."

"Wow," said Beth as she unconsciously licked her lips.

"Your round of the contest starts in about twenty minutes; more than enough time to have a little fun first. We'll call the number on your wrist band when it's time to get ready."

Suzi turned to me. "I have one piece of advice for you. Many men come here with their wives or lovers, they get excited, then shoot their load almost immediately. And then they're miserable because suddenly everyone's horny except them. So, hold your shot as long as you can. As. Long. As. You. Can." With that she wished us a fun night and left us.

Beth took my hand, and we walked a circuit around the ballroom, taking in the action and checking out the people. Women prowled the floor in fishnet catsuits, lace chemises, sheer teddys and various other lingerie ensembles as men hovered by, hanging out while waiting for a signal that a woman desired their attention. Some of the bolder ladies were nude or nearly so, wearing nothing but stockings or just a bra. We stopped to watch one blonde woman, who was wearing only long black velvet gloves and four-inch heels, strut up to a divan, pick up a dry erase board and write "2 V O" on it. Several men stepped forward, of whom she selected two who joined her on the cushions. The rest stepped back to watch or faded away to search for other prospects as the two lucky ones began to kiss and lick along her neck and chest. She squirmed out of their dual embrace to position herself on her hands and knees with her thighs apart and her chin up. Her two partners quickly moved around to slide their hard cocks into her mouth and pussy as they began to pump her in a steady, synchronous rhythm.

"Ooo, I like this place," said Beth.

"I bet you do," I said. "How are you feeling?"

"Sooo fucking horny, Paul. I'm ready to get started... if you're cool with that..."

"Oh, I'm cool with it," I said. "Anyone you have in mind?"

"I'm surprised you didn't notice him," she said as she led me across the ballroom. Sitting in an easy chair was a hirsute, barrel-chested young man holding a dry erase board on which was written: "I will eat your ass."

Beth looked at me enthusiastically and arched an eyebrow. She loved anilingus, which was something for which I've never been particularly enthusiastic. That this kid was so eager for it was a blessing for both of us. The delight on Beth's face was infectious as she asked for permission to give herself over to this ass-loving weirdo.

"Have fun," I said.

After kissing me deeply and appreciatively, she approached Ass-Eater with a big, friendly smile on her face and he stood nervously to greet her. After a brief exchange, he motioned to one of the long, unoccupied couches at the edge of the dance floor. She took his hand and led him there where she bent over the arm of the couch with her lovely round ass in the air and her thighs apart. My heart hammered in my chest and my cock began to twitch as I watched her put her ass and pussy on display.