Desperately Seeking Solution

"Hmm." The man pondered. "How about I lie on my back, and you face and ride me?"

"Sounds nummy. Let's do it." I stroked his cock several times and noted it was not rock hard. So, as he lay back, I leaned in and took his cock in my mouth, mumbling around his flesh, "Just helping out here a bit." His leaked pre-cum had a sweet-tangy flavor. I was vaguely aware of wetness trickling from my pussy down my legs.

He smiled. "Feels really good."

Getting him fully hard did not take long. I noticed that his erection curved slightly upward and visibly pulsed with arousal. I straddled him with my pussy hovering over his cock. Before I managed to insert him, globs of cum started oozing out of my pussy and plopping down on his cock, his balls, and his pubes. Damn, of course; there are nine—no, ten—loads of cum in me. I'm overflowing. The thought both amused and aroused me.

I disregarded the dribbling semen and lowered down to envelop his turgid penis with my pussy. I sat up and rocked my pelvis against him, massaging his cock in my vagina. The angle created pressure against my clit, which sent electric ripples of sexual energy through my body.

The squelch of the discharged semen and pussy juice mixture was audible as we rocked together. The sound—and the idea of what caused it—added to my debauchery and pleasure. And when I pulled forward at certain angles, his curved dick rubbed along my G-spot, causing my vagina to clench and undulate. The man moaned with the joy of our joining, and I felt the familiar building of an orgasm start to churn deep inside me. 

I'd been receiving continual sexual stimulation for over an hour. My focus, however, had been on the men, so I hadn't realized how aroused I was. I craved more direct stimulation, so I rocked harder against his pelvis, rubbing my engorged clit with the motion. 

I sat up and grabbed my boobs, squeezed and lifted them, then pulled hard on my erect nipples. As if a direct connection existed between my boob manipulation and my nascent climax, the added stimulation shot fiery jolts into my pussy, rushing my arousal to the edge. The man then bucked his hips, causing tremors in my gut and triggering my release.

Like a surging ocean breaker, I felt my whole body tremble as my orgasm ripped through me, causing me to clench my toes and contract my belly. My vaginal walls gripped and spasmed along the hard dick inside me. I cried out loudly, unintelligibly, then arched my back. My climax set off his; he blasted a copious amount of semen into the gooey mess already inside me.

I collapsed forward onto him, humming, then sighed with warm satisfaction. When I sat back up, I was greeted by loud cheering, hooting, and applause. Most of the men had gathered around us in a semi-circle to watch. I looked around and couldn't stop a giant smile from lighting my face. 

I lifted off the man and stood up, naked, sweaty, and a bit sore. Gushes of cum escaped my swollen pussy, and trickled down my thighs or dropped in globs directly to the floor. The semen deposits in my vagina, mixed, diluted, and thinned by my bountiful pussy juice, had finally succumbed to the law of gravity. 

Reveling in the applause, I hammed it up and turned and curtsied from one side of the room to the other. A graceful ballerina expressing her gratitude to her adoring fans. But there was zero chance any graceful ballerina would ever present my appearance in public—cum-smeared, sweaty, disarrayed hair, and stark naked.

Still nude, I wandered and mingled with the guests for ten more minutes. I kept a napkin handy to periodically catch errant streaks of cum trickling down my legs. I had so much cum in me—eleven loads in my pussy and six swallowed and in my belly. 

I had just had sex, given blowjobs, and/or lap dances with most of the men at the party. I reflected with some mirth that before that night, I'd only had sex with three men. And never more than one on the same night. How quickly life changes.

One of the old men said he would love to lick my pussy for me sometime and give me some pleasure for a change. I told him that sounded nice, then was confused when he said that he figured cunnilingus was similar to a blowjob—so $500 would be a fair price. For a moment, I thought he wanted me to pay him to give me oral sex at that rate. Then I realized he was offering to pay me for the privilege of licking my pussy to orgasm. Life is wild.

Eventually, I slipped into the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. I met Uncle Bob, determined to learn why he snuck up and fucked me like that. Before I said anything, he spoke quietly so only I could make out his words.

"You want an explanation, and you deserve one; I'm sorry if I've messed things up between us—I hope we're ok. I did what I did so you wouldn't have to go through life worrying I might tell your dad about your working at the club. If it came out that we had sex, it would destroy my relationships with my brother and family and ruin much of my life. And worse for me, it wasn't technically consensual on your part; I didn't ask, and you never knew beforehand. So you can honestly deny doing anything with me knowingly."

I mulled over his words. "I'm not sure I followed that. How does our having sex without my knowing it was you keep you from telling my dad about me?"

"Now we both have something monumental to lose if your dad finds out, and we must trust each other to keep our secrets. Mutually assured catastrophe ensures that nothing ever comes out about your job, this night, or our act of incest." 

Biting my lip in thought, I said, "I guess that sort of makes sense... in a bizarre way. But why did you feel you needed to do anything? I would have trusted you if you had told me my secrets were safe."

Uncle Bob's expression flashed a myriad of emotions. "Well, there may have been another reason I did what I did, to be honest. Shit... you'll think I'm some kind of perverted old man. But I want to be transparent here. Keep no secrets."

I quirked one eyebrow and waited. I had an inkling as to where he was going. And was not necessarily opposed to that direction.

My Uncle continued. "I think you're the most beautiful and attractive woman of any age I've seen in many years. Since I saw you in the club, so sexy, so erotic, I haven't stopped thinking about you, dreaming of you. And, um... well... fantasizing about you, fantasizing about being with you, despite our ages and that you're my niece."

A ripple of warmth spread deep in my pussy at his flattering words. I looked up, and our eyes met. He was strong, good-looking, and attractive. In fact, if he weren't my Uncle...  

"Then tonight," he continued. "Well, seeing you with all those guys, sucking them, riding them, getting fucked by them... I was so turned on I could hardly think straight. I just wanted to be inside you, feel your gorgeous body. When you were taking men from behind without looking, I saw how I could be with you and took advantage of the opportunity because I knew I could never have you otherwise."

He hung and shook his head. "I'm truly sorry if I've hurt you, and I understand if you're mad or disgusted with me."

"I would have let you," I said quietly, almost to myself.

"You... really?" He stammered. His hopeful look was endearing.

"Well... since we're being honest here, yes," I said. "After you saw me at the club, I dreamed about naughty things... um, with you. I thought about what you saw and imagined you doing things to me, to my, um, down there. I tried to suppress those thoughts; I thought I was evil and bad, even just thinking lewd things. But tonight, with all the sex that was happening, I was so worked up, so horny, and so beyond caring about whether I was being bad or wrong. I think... well, I'm pretty sure I would have willingly had sex with you." 

We looked at each other for a minute, each lost in our thoughts. Comfortable, at ease. Neither felt the need to say more about our incestuous attraction and conduct. Figuring out that can of worms would wait for another time. Compartmentalize. Move on.

"So, then, we're ok, right?" Uncle Bob asked, seeking confirmation.

"We are. And for the record, I'm glad it happened." I felt my cheeks warm as I blushed. 

Our conversation then turned to the night's memorable events. We enjoyed a single malt whisky and marveled at what had transpired.

"This exceeded all my expectations," Uncle Bob said. "I never thought anything like this would happen. I figured you would give us old codgers an amazing thrill with a sexy striptease and leave."

"You and me both," I laughed. "I thought it might be awkward to strip in someone's house but never considered doing anything more, certainly not what I did. But I must say, this night was fantastic. Fun, sexy, and non-threatening, and my mind is officially blown at the amount of money I made tonight. I'm kind of giddy about the whole thing. You have great friends and have helped me solve my financial crisis. Helped me get back on track, though maybe not with a solution I'd ever imagined."

"Yeah, that's great to hear," Uncle Bob nodded. "I'd planned to pay you what I thought was a great fee for a sexy striptease dance—around $500. It never occurred to me the guys would start paying for things like lap dances. Or you know... the sexual things." 

He looked at me with a hint of uncertainty. "Ok. So. I hadn't thought so, but since we're candid tonight, I guess I'll just come out and ask. Is that—the sex for money—something you've been doing or have done before?"

I shook my head. "No, absolutely not. Not even close. I've never done anything sexual beyond a lap dance or let a customer touch me."

I looked at my Uncle quizzically. "I have no idea what a 'working girl' gets paid for a blowjob or sex, but my gut reaction is that what I got was much more than usual."

He looked at me, nodding sagely. "All the amounts seemed to be on the high end or more based on what I understand men pay for these things. And I'm really happy for you; I know you've been struggling."

"You have no idea; I made tonight what would normally take me months to earn. I feel almost guilty that they paid so much."

"They can afford it, trust me," Uncle Bob said. "This kind of money is pocket change to them. And you know what they say: something is worth what someone is willing to pay for it. So to them, you are worth every penny they spend to be with you. Or they wouldn't have spent it." 

Uncle Bob mused. "What are your plans going forward? Are you planning to keep working—stripping—at your club?"

"I suppose so," I began, considering the question as I spoke. "I like the work, like the other women. Though after tonight, any money I make will seem paltry. But this party was an exception, my 'hooker for the night experiment,' so to speak." I nodded to myself. "I guess I'll keep stripping so I can make enough to live on while I work on getting my real career going, my 'normal' life in order."

Uncle Bob paused in thought, then scrutinized me. "You know, I know other guys with similar interests and similar bank accounts as the men here tonight. And the guys here know other people as well." 

"Ok... so?" I asked warily.

He spoke deliberately, carefully measuring my reaction to his words. "Tonight wouldn't have to be a one-off experience if you were interested or open to another event—or events—sometime."

Emotions and thoughts swarmed. Again? Would I want to do this again? It would be great money; I could pay off my loans, buy nice clothes start actually saving money. And I actually had fun, to boot. But he's talking about intentionally planning and charging for sex, not just getting carried away like tonight. Asking if I want to entertain men at parties not just as a dancer but... hell, call it what it is: as a prostitute. A hooker—though admittedly a very high-priced one. Hmm... I think "Call Girl" sounds better, somehow. Sounds classier... 

I looked up at my Uncle Bob. "Will you be there with me?" And grinned.

END