tagExhibitionist & VoyeurJane's New BFF Ch. 01

Jane's New BFF Ch. 01


AUTHORS NOTE: Many of the characters in this story have appeared in my previous works.


It was an unusual situation, to say the least, especially by Donkey standards, but they had begun auditioning females. It was Jane's idea. Hideki had made but one request: "Blondes, lots of blondes, and Japanese boys, college boys. I can send you ten, twenty, how many you like."

"What about a script," she asked?

"Use your imagination. I want something big, number one in Japan. Your imagination," he said, patting her panty-clad butt as he spoke, "runs wild." Hideki worshipped his bride. Not only was she a good fuck, she was good for business. It wasn't an accident that her towel accidentally fell off at the resort's hot springs, in front of his associates. They had all brought their mistresses, but Hideki's mistress was also his wife, and the other men were jealous. Fuelled by rice wine, and Jane's subtle suggestiveness, the ladies eventually got the men to take part in a penis comparison contest. In this Jane lived up to her reputation as the wild western sexpot who was tamed by the Japanese industrialist; the kicker being that he couldn't eradicate her naughty side completely. It was a popular fantasy that sold well. And judging by the copious amounts of sperm that emanated from her husband's cock that evening, Hideki was a happy camper. Jane earned her keep.

She thus returned to Los Angeles with a mandate, along with a big budget and a big appetite. Jane had a script half-written, two incredible scenes, but she needed more. Monica was still on holiday, having met some young bi-sexual Australians, and was cavorting somewhere with them. Jane managed to reach her by email, and Monica told her to go for it, so she had free reign for the next Donkey film. Her idea of conducting research was to spend an entire afternoon being serviced by Dan. The idea that cemented the video crystallized after a lengthy sexual session, and it was all because Dan was cursing himself over his final ejaculation. "I have to work tonight," he said, ruefully.

"Doing what, stripping?" Jane gazed at his spent shaft in wonder. By her estimation he had cum five times.

Something like that." Dan had a nude waiter business. He didn't do it often; his reputation was solely word-of-mouth, and only in the highest circles, so when he did work it was for top dollar. "I've done parties for some of the richest, most glamorous women in Hollywood," he boasted. He usually worked with two or three other guys, and always had a list of available studs at the ready. One of his selling points, which was even stipulated in the business agreement, was that Dan and his crew would masturbate at the end of the night, usually in front of a roaring, raucous crowd of horny women, no matter how many ejaculations they may have already had.

"Has anybody ever not cum?"

"Once. It happened once...he's not working for me anymore."

"Any of your studs Donkey material? How come you never bring them around?"

"I don't like to mix business with pleasure." Dan thought a moment. "Since you're the best fuck I ever had...I got this one guy, he's an African dude, with the biggest dick on the planet. I'm not kidding. He says he descends from a tribe that was known for having big cocks. I'm telling you, the guy is twice my size..."

"Twice your size? C'mon Dan, get real."

Dan nodded his head and smiled. "I saw it getting measured. It took four girls to hold it up."

Jane turned bright red. "Four girls, she said, smiling? He sounds like a freak."

"That's nothing. We call him the Helicopter. He can twirl it around. It drives the girls crazy. And you should see him cum. It's like a shower."

"Well, what the fuck?" She laughed. "This I gotta see. I want the Helicopter," she said. "I need the Helicopter. Ask him if he wants to make a video." After a moment of thoughtfully contemplating the visual of a roomful of mini-skirted hotties being driven insane - thighs, legs, panties, man-meat, semen - she asked how many girls would be at the party.

"There's two sisters," he said, smiling in remembrance of his previous liaison, "late twenties-early thirties, big inheritance, jewelry, makeup...you know the type. I did a party last month for one sister, and tonight the other one's having it at her house. There could be twenty people or there could be two, depending on how horny they are, but these sisters are fucking delectable."

"You're giving me an idea for a script," she said. "I needed a scene and now I got it. And I need the Helicopter in the worst way."

"What, you gonna film a strip show?"

"Something like that," she said, smiling. Jane was going to reward him with another orgasm but, mindful of his job, she suggested a shower. "Come on," she said, "you can pee on me."

Female casting was critical. Hideki wanted blondes and Jane wanted new faces, so she decided to advertise, even putting it out on the website. Anyone who was interested in becoming a Donkey girl needed only to apply. It was a brilliant promotion. Within a week they had over one hundred applicants. Herman was fixated on the computer, perusing all of them. Jane didn't know what she was looking for, but she'd know it when she saw it, and who better to assist her than a teenager with raging hormones and an anxious cock? She was hoping to find three or four women, and they had to fall into one of three categories: slut, skank, or sexy. Jane wanted at least one for each. Ultimately she found five women that intrigued her, and brought them in for auditions.

"This is going to be fun." Herman rubbed his hands gleefully.

"Listen up, my friend, I don't want you to scare them off. You've been getting a little unruly lately. Don't forget who's in charge. You're here to appraise them and comment on their style. No freaky stuff, okay?"

Mandy was in the outer office acting as the first point-of-contact as the ladies arrived. Jane texted her and said they were ready for the first one. There was a bit of commotion when the door opened. "Hey bitch, I was here first," said a high-pitched, squeaky voice, and after a minor struggle out strode the first applicant.

"I could have searched for a year," Jane would say later, "and not found anyone better," in reference to Arlene, "though to be honest, it was that fucking dress and boots she had on." The slinky black mini-dress that so captivated her had thin white, horizontal stripes running across it, and it made was of thin, satiny, velvety material. It was nearer a camisole than a dress, more like lingerie in terms of body coverage, and Jane admired her boldness. Herman's erection hardened by the second.

Because of the mini, Arlene's thighs garnered a lot of attention. They were taut, toned and fit. She was five foot four, but appeared taller, due to her leggy, thin frame and oval-shaped face. But her dress, it was literally one of those OMG moments. It was exceedingly short, but she managed to sit down without revealing her panties, frustrating Herman in the process, whose boner strained from the pressure. It was sticking out at a forty-five degree angle and throbbing.

Jane cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to say this, but as you can see, my stylist is a pervert. He's gonna stare at your crotch until he sees your panties."

Arlene smiled, and remained unfazed when Herman walked over and touched her hem, and she didn't flinch when he rubbed his hand along her thigh. "I love this material. Oh yes," he said, playing the role of gay stylist, which allowed him to go unchallenged when lifting up her hem up, but he didn't like what he saw. "Black panties? Listen, you need to wear white panties with this dress. Herman lifted her hem higher and stared underneath. "What are they, silk or something? I can see right through them. You got a smoothie."

"That's enough, Herman."

"I don't mind," said Arlene. "When I wear this dress I expect men to stare, I guess I want them to stare, or else I wouldn't wear it, right? Besides, I recognize him. He's the naughty boy in the films who has to wear a cock clamp."

"See, I told you," Jane exclaimed. "You're typecast, buddy."

"I'm not wearing that clamp again."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I love your stuff," Arlene confessed. "I was on the website; that's how I found out about this. I thought, why not? I watch the product. I've gone to strip clubs, so when I saw the ad..."

Arlene was a twenty-one year old administrative assistant who lived for the weekends, especially the Friday nights that she and a girlfriend went to a male strip club, because, "if you're having a night out and drinking, why not look at studs with big cocks parading around? You won't believe the shit the ladies do to them."

"Wait," said Jane, "you go to an actual strip club? I didn't even know they existed."

"Oh yeah, they're still popular. Sometimes there are two hundred women there. It's insane."

"Talk about typecasting. Girl, we're gonna have to talk."

"Do you ever touch them," asked Herman? His cock was rigid, and it was pointing directly at Arlene.

"If I'm drunk, sure, I'll yank it a little. Sometimes I'll even yank it a lot."

"Ever jerked one off," Jane asked?

"No, or should I say, not yet."

"Girl, I like the way you think."

"It's all in fun, but I really do get turned-on. I'm careful about what I put in my mouth, so I don't suck them like some girls do. By the end of the night I can't wait to go home and masturbate."

"I bet you own a world-class vibrator," observed Jane, to which Arlene simply smiled and winked. She had her fill of one-night stands and had grown tired of the dating scene. In addition to watching strippers, masturbating to porn was her short-term substitute.

The dress Arlene wore was one that she usually wore to the strip club. The other ladies would sometimes glare at her with disdain, for despite their large boobs, designer clothes, and faux glamour, Arlene's mini was a scene-stealer. It was so flimsy it made her appear virtually naked without trying to - that was its magic. A woman wearing it was either looking to get laid or else was the world's biggest tease. The strippers seemed to like the mini, and why not? It was incredibly suggestive. It hung lose, making an upskirt or a down-blouse a certainty over time. It looked as if a strong breeze could blow the dress right off of her. Its thin spaghetti straps cut low against her breasts, ruling out a bra, and it had an open back, supported by a thin strap.

Her look was enhanced by a necklace with a large black onyx that hung down low and it drew one's eye to her chest, unless one was a pervert, in which case their eyes made a beeline for her thighs, which were her best feature. Her knee-high, black leather boots, when paired with the dress, screamed sluttyness. She had not an ounce of fat on her body, and it didn't matter that her breasts were small, for when you're young and pretty and have legs to die for, you can be philosophical about perceived shortcomings. Small breasts certainly didn't stop the strippers from hanging around her table, and they were usually rewarded with a little hand shaking.

In the vernacular of the club, Arlene was known as a tugger, as opposed to a licker, or a look-but-don't-touch reluctant, shy girl.

Arlene may have been a natural blonde. She had dark roots at the top of her head, but her hair color looked radiantly natural, even if it was not. It was naturally straight, and she parted it in the middle, brushed it back behind her ears, and let it descend to her shoulder tops. "I really want to have sex with that woman," Jane said to Herman, afterwards. "I want to put on a dildo and ram her and make her gush. Does that make me weird?"

"No, just hot."

Being twenty-one, Arlene probably overdid it with the jewelry. In addition to the necklace, she had bracelets on each arm, along with several rings and small hoop earrings. Her nails were recently manicured and painted white. She emitted her own version of glamour, a low-budget, slutty glamour. But it worked. However she did it, she managed to create a look that was perfect for her body type. Jane was flummoxed.

"Look, I'm not gonna beat around the bush. You look so fucking hot I want to rape you. Herman will probably beat-off several times as soon as this is over." Jane shook her head. "I can't get over it...You know what it is? You remind me of me, five years ago."

"Really?" Arlene beamed. "I felt a connection when I first saw you."

"What happened back there," Jane asked her, referring to the commotion at the door?

"I got here first, and some cunt tried to go ahead of me. For once in my life I decided to be assertive."

In response to questioning, Arlene said she had no problem stripping to her undies for the camera, although why anyone would want to look at her "itty bitty titties" was beyond her. She was okay giving hand-jobs too. There were a couple of other scenes in addition to the strip club. Arlene would have to watch men having homo sex. "And I'm getting paid for this", she said, in amazement?

"Are those strip clubs real or fake," Herman asked?

"What, do you mean the stripper videos?"

"Yeah, I've heard about them, and I figured you must watch them."

"You should watch them too, if you're as gay as you pretend to be, although seeing that little guy of yours pointing straight at me makes me wonder."

"I told you," said Jane, "he's a perv."

"Most of the guys are hot and hung, and if you like seeing panty flashes, and I think you do, then you better have a box of tissues handy, because you'll need it."

"Hear that, Herman? Girls in minis sucking dicks, spreading their legs; you can make a spreadsheet of all the panties."

"Could you send me links the best vids," Herman asked? His erect cock bobbed in appreciation.

"Herman is addicted to porn," Jane said, by way of explanation.

Arlene giggled. "I probably shouldn't say this, but...oh, what the hell. You'll probably find out anyway if you watch the stripper videos, because I'm in one of them. I was down in Florida a few months ago and me and my cousin ran low on money. Well, there was an ad. It said we could earn a hundred dollars for two hours work, plus all we could drink. They were shooting a stripper video and they needed extras to fill up the room. What the hell, we thought, it might be fun, so we went. We get there, and we had to sign a consent form in case we got screen-time on the video that they're shooting, so we knew they were serious. They seated us at the bar, in a designated no-go area. I guess they had pros in the room for the sucking and cumming."

"You mean, they cum?" Jane sounded surprised.

"Hell yeah. In the videos, a girl will suck the stripper off until he's about to shoot, and then he'll finish it himself and jerk-off in her face. Why, I don't know. It's not like that in a real club. I'm sure there's some kinky shit reason behind it, but I don't know what it is."

"Oh yeah," Herman said, gleefully, "I gotta watch some stripper porn."

"There goes the neighborhood," observed Jane.

"But you didn't touch them yourself though, in the video, did you, sitting at the bar?" Herman seemed anguished.

"Well," and here Arlene giggled again, "we were knocking them back pretty good. I was drinking margaritas. At first each stripper came out one at a time and worked the room a couple of times, until the end, when they all come out, and the girls grabbed them as they danced by. If a girl were shy they'd stop and shake their dick in her face and try and shame her, which sometimes loosened her up. It was mostly amateurs like myself, but for some reason a lot of them sat in areas that the strippers stopped at. These guys are getting sucked, they're getting jerked, and all I can do is watch. Meanwhile, I'm getting drunker and hornier by the minute. There's music playing, I'm dancing by myself, sitting in my chair, I'm doing my best to get a stripper to come over, I'm giving them suggestive looks and shit like that, but they keep passing me up 'cause I'm in the no-go zone, and I'm getting pissed. I wanted to get one of those stripper boys over to me, you know, so I can fondle him a little. I think they were up to stripper number three. These guys were fucking hung, okay?"

Arlene smiled at the memory. Herman was enraptured, his penis still as stiff as ever. It was hard for him to pay attention to the words, for he was riveted on the spot where dress met thigh. Arlene was so busy talking that she didn't realize how many panty flashes she was giving him; or did she?

"The stripper was at a table right in front of where I was sitting. I don't know what got into me...too much tequila, I guess, and I'm telling you, these guys were hung like fucking donkeys, no pun intended. Anyway, as he was leaving the table I called him over. I think he was surprised, 'cause of where I was sitting, so I stood up and took a step towards him and made a gesture, you know, stroking my hand, like I wanted to jerk him, so he came over and I gave him a hand-job for about thirty seconds. It was a big black one too. I like those big black cocks. They're fun to look at, and subconsciously I think there's some sort of Mandingo, reverse-racial thing going on, which I kind-of also like. Anyway, this guy rested his hand on my thigh while I stroked him, and I'm telling you, I felt so giddy I almost fainted. Then he left, and I saw the camera filming me. I was on such a dick-high that I flashed my boobs for the camera; twice, because the first time I didn't do it long enough.

"Wait," Herman said, "this is on the Internet?" Indeed it was. Arlene went right to the link.

"Fast-forward to the thirty-seven minute mark," she said. "God, this is so humiliating. I had to practically beg the guy to come over to me, like I was a piece of trash or something."

"Hey, you're wearing the same dress," Herman remarked.

"It's my girls-night-out party dress."

"And look, Herman, there's an upskirt. White panties too," said Jane.

"In all honesty," Arlene said, "I'm more embarrassed about the panty shot than I am about the hand-job or the tit flash."

Jane thought she detected some unusual behavior, so she looked over at her valet. "Herman!"

Arlene and Jane had been so riveted by the video that they scarcely noticed him, but Herman had been fondling his cock as it played. By the time Arlene flashed her boobs he was so close to cumming that he couldn't keep it quiet, and a couple of loud grunts were followed by a deluge of semen, some of which splashed on the computer monitor, for which he had been aiming.

"Herman, you fucking pervert, lick it up." Jane grabbed him by the back of his neck and brought his face to the computer screen. "Lick it!" To Arlene, she said, "in fairness, I don't think he's the first man to beat off to it. Hell, my panties are fucking wet too."

"Herman," Jane said, "I warned you, you fucking perv. Get your ass over here and lie across my knees."

"Oh no," he moaned, in false fear. He knew what was coming, and he secretly loved it.

"Arlene, there's a paddle in the top deck drawer. Could you get it for me?"

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Herman cried out in pain, but it was worth it, the ejaculation having been one of his most satisfying ones. "Ew, Herman. Your cock is sticky and you're getting it all over my legs." WHAP! WHAP!

The room fell silent. "Sorry, I couldn't help it," Herman whimpered. Jane added three more stinging blows before she relented.

"Sorry you had to witness that, Arlene, but when Herman gets out of control he needs to be punished."

"Wow, that's pretty wild."

"That's par for the course around here. What's the wildest thing you've ever done? Herman wants to know, I'm sure."

She blushed. "God, you're really gonna think I'm a nut-job, but a few days ago I was drunk and I sent my boss an anonymous email with a link to the video."

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