Jean - The Birth of Venus Ch. 20

Andy was an experienced producer. He directed Jean's partners to take her in a variety of creative positions. Some men only got a blow job. Some got to fuck her generous breasts. A couple of lucky men fucked her in her ass and shot their semen deep into her bowels. Jean used a steady stream of wet towels to wipe cum off her face and naked body. There was nothing she could do about the cum soaking her wig.

The stewardess regularly brought her soda on ice, but Jean was always thirsty. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. She felt like all the cum in the world wouldn't be enough to quench her raging inferno.

Maybe a dozen passengers after losing control, a skinny man announced he was an assembly line engineer. He had been doing time and motion analysis of her performance. He explained his results while she sucked his cock.

"Except for your first two partners, you've been averaging about three minutes per passenger. That translates to only twenty men an hour. It'll take you more than seven hours to service all 148 souls on the plane. Even if we assume a handful will remain faithful to their wives, you'll never finish before we reach New York City in five hours. I'm worried the ones at the back of the line may get disorderly. You have to step up your pace."

Jean responded by grabbing his cock with two hands and vigorously pumping while she sucked.

Sometime later, the flight engineer entered the restroom.

"The stewardess said there was a problem with the plumbing in here, and I needed to take a look. I think I see the problem."

After the flight engineer shot his load deep in her womb, he said, "I think I need to get an opinion from the co-pilot. The plumbing problem is going to require a lot of serious effort."

Of course, after the co-pilot tried to make repairs, he sent the pilot in to take a crack at the problem. Andy laughed when the pilot left with a grin on his face. Jean had fixed his problem in just a little over two minutes.

Jean was in the zone, and she hummed along as she worked to satisfy herself and the swelling stream of eager passengers. Her steady performance was enhanced by the amphetamines, which helped keep her going. Even without the intense sexual arousal from the ton of ecstasy coursing through her brain, Jean would have loved every minute of it. Her nymphomania had been unleashed, and it was overpowering.

Jean was startled when the pilot announced that they were beginning to make their descent into New York. He asked everyone to return to their seats and fasten their seatbelts.

Jean was bent over the sink and taking a fat brown cock in her swollen pussy when the announcement came. Andy told her to let the man finish. He was lying on the floor, filming the action from below. The producer loved watching her gorgeous breasts dancing around as the heavy set Hispanic businessman slammed his fat cock into her ravaged pussy at a rapid rate.

The brown man tilted his head back and yelled a curse as he came. When he pulled out, a long string of cum joined his deflated cock and Jean's gaping cum filled pussy. The Mexican casually wiped himself on a paper towel and departed. He left Jean panting on the counter with cum flowing out of her pussy and running down her shaking thighs. Perhaps, she was finally satisfied.

On the way out, the brown gentleman said, "Gracias Puta."

Andy turned off his camera and slapped Jean's ass.

"Take a moment to compose yourself. I think you have time to clean yourself up before you take your seat."

It took a couple of minutes for Jean to stand up. The reflection in the mirror showed a grinning young woman who had been ridden hard. Her body was plastered with dripping cum. Not a single square inch of her skin had escaped the tsunami of semen. One of her eyes was glued shut. Even her blond wig was dripping cum.

Jean washed her face thoroughly before using soap and wet paper towels to clean her body. It took a pile of them to staunch the flow of semen from her ass and pussy.

The stewardess knocked on the door before opening it.

"Are you ready to take your seat, honey?"

The floor was a cesspool of cum. When Jean turned to respond, her wedge shoes made a squishy sound.

"I think I'm as clean as I can manage. I just need to slip on my dress."

Jean looked around the room in a rising panic. The hook where her dress had been hanging was empty. It wasn't on the floor. A quick check of the trash bin showed no sign of her orange dress.

The naked girl looked at the stewardess with pleading eyes. "Have you seen my dress? It's missing."

The stewardess laughed at my embarrassment. "Your friends back in row 18 are keeping your dress safe. They said they were worried about souvenir hunters."

Jean stuck her head out of the restroom door and saw row after row of male faces smiling at her. She ducked back inside and begged the stewardess.

"Umm... Please, could you bring it to me?"

"We don't have time for that. You need to take your seat as soon as possible. We only have enough time to perform a little ceremony."

"Ceremony?"

"You're now a member of the mile-high club. It's a simple ceremony. I'll present you with your wings in front of the adoring passengers who made it possible. You don't even need to make a speech."

"But I'm naked."

"That's even better. It's the perfect outfit for receiving your wings. It's the same outfit you wore as Venus."

The solidly built stewardess grabbed Jean's elbow and quickly dragged her out of the restroom. She pinned the struggling young woman's back against her chest while she reached for the PA system mic. She didn't need to say anything to get the passengers' attention. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were riveted on Jean's naked body as she squirmed in the big woman's firm grasp.

Instinctively, her hands assumed the position they had taken all summer when she posed as Botticelli's Venus. Her right arm and hand covered her breasts while the splayed fingers of her left hand attempted to cover her sex. The long blond ponytail of her aunt's wig flowed over her shoulder and cascaded down the valley between her generous breasts. Unlike the wig she had worn at the Art Exposition, the one she had on today wasn't nearly long enough to reach her moist flowering sex. Still, it contributed to the illusion that the naked woman held captive by the stewardess was indeed the goddess, Venus.

Jean's trembling body was on display in a pose instantly recognizable to anyone who had attended the Art Exposition. She closed her eyes to shut out the terrifying sight of row after row of hungry rapacious men interested in one and only one thing. It had been easy to handle them one at a time in the restroom. Jean was afraid that acting as a mob, they would rip her apart and devour her tender flesh.

The men began shouting all at once. Their voices combined into an overwhelming din of animal lust. The naked girl sagged, trembling against the stewardess. Her nostrils flared, and her breath came in shallow, rapid panting. She was still rolling on ecstasy, and her heart was pounding from the effects of too much amphetamine. She could feel her nectar leaking from her flowering vagina and running down her thighs. Her nymphomania was so out of control that she would have jumped the nearest man if the stewardess wasn't restraining her.

The stewardess thumbed on the mic and announced, "We are very fortunate to have a celebrity on board. Many of you probably saw her in her role as Venus at the Santa Teresa Art Exposition. Well, Venus just joined the mile-high club, thanks to our generous passengers. Please give her a round of applause while I pin her wings on her chest."

The passengers erupted in cheers and bawdy yells. "Way to go, Venus! You're the greatest."

Jean closed her eyes to block out the flashes from dozens of cameras.

The stewardess leaned close to Jean's ear and whispered, "Don't worry. I'm not going to pin the wings on your nipple. I'll wait until later to put them on your dress."

Instead, the stewardess brushed Jean's hand from her left breast and rubbed the brass wings back and forth across the naked girl's nipple until it was hard. The trembling girl inhaled sharply when the stewardess slid her hand down Jean's long arm and used the captive girl's fingers to rub across her exposed clit. Jean struggled, but the stewardess held her tight while she played with the embarrassed girl's sex.

The woman strumming her clit was an expert, and within a couple of minutes, Jean was on the verge of an orgasm. At least at the Art Exposition, there had been a glass window separating her from the howling crowd while she orgasmed. Jean felt stripped of her last shred of decency. It was one thing to fuck dozens of men in the privacy of the first-class restroom. However, it was a whole new level of degradation to be forced into an intense orgasm in front of an entire planeload of passengers restrained only by a fasten seatbelt sign.

Once she had brought Jean to the edge, the stewardess released her hand. Jean groaned when the pleasure stopped.

"Oh, God, no, no, no. Please, I'm so close."

The stewardess whispered in Jean's ear. "You know what to do. You've done it before. Go ahead. You know you want to. You know you have to. Do it. Your fans are begging you to finish it."

Someone started a chant, and everyone quickly joined in. It seemed each of the lustful onlookers was trying to outdo their neighbor. "Venus, Venus, Venus..."

Jean cried out as she began moving her fingers without the help of her captor. She started slow. Her fingers barely moved across her protruding clit. Her other hand found her hard nipple and tugged on the pointy tip. Jean moaned. She rubbed her clit harder and faster. Her long legs were trembling, and she would have collapsed except for the firm grip of the stewardess.

The grinning woman behind her used both hands to spread Jean's engorged labia. Her inner pussy lips flowered. Her nectar flowed down her shaking thighs. The scent of her hot wet pussy was overwhelming in the first-class cabin. Jean shrieked when the stewardess shoved a couple of fingers into her vagina. Her captor's fingertips pressed against her G-spot. She leaned her head back against the stewardess's shoulder and rubbed her clit faster. She screamed as she orgasmed hard for her adoring fans. She was Venus, the goddess of love and sex.

The leering stares and the flashes of dozens of cameras had made her close her eyes. She only opened them after she came down from an intense orgasm. Just as she'd experienced at the Art Exposition, each orgasm was more intense. Any semblance of modesty was long gone. When she opened her eyes, she saw Andy lying on the floor to get a better angle for his video camera.

A moment later, the plane began a slow turn, and the pilot made an announcement.

"Unfortunately, we didn't get as much of a boost from the jet stream as we'd hoped. We're arriving at La Guardia's busiest time. Unfortunately, all of the gates are occupied. The control tower has asked us to fly a holding pattern. The wait could be as long as an hour. Don't worry. We have plenty of fuel. Feel free to get up and stretch. The stewardesses will come around with free drinks. We'll have you on the ground as soon as possible."

For a moment, the stewardess looked unhappy. Then she smiled and made an announcement without asking her captive celebrity.

"Venus has kindly offered to sign autographs. If you take out this month's flight magazine, you'll see it features an article on our lovey Venus. It's titled 'Enigmatic Venus thrills throngs at Santa Teresa Art Exposition.' A signed copy of the magazine will make a nice collector's item. Please raise your hand if you'd like her to sign yours."

Despite using the word enigmatic in the caption, nothing was puzzling or mysterious about the picture. It showed me having a very public orgasm after a long day of riding the big black dildo my uncle had selected for me. I looked utterly fucked out. I was surprised the photographer had managed to capture me with nothing important exposed.

As Botticelli intended, my long blond braid and left hand covered my pussy, and the black vibrator buried deep inside. My right hand hid the nipple on my left breast in the cover picture, and my forearm was draped across my right breast. Oh, there was plenty of flesh visible, and the look of rapture on my face revealed I was orgasming hard.

Hands quickly went up throughout the passenger cabin, requesting an autograph. The nearest hand was waving frantically in the first row of the first-class cabin. The stewards handed me a ballpoint pin and pushed me forward with a hand on my lower back. I bent over to sign just as the plane banked for a turn. I spread my feet wider for balance as I signed 'Love Venus' on the cover.

Before I could straighten up, a hand grabbed my waist, and some stranger's erection drove into my wet vagina. I felt their crotch bounce off my ass.

I screamed, "Wait!"

I have no idea why they were supposed to wait. I didn't get a chance to think about it further. The man whose magazine I'd just signed unzipped his fly and stuffed my mouth full of rock hard cock. He grabbed my head with two hands and shoved his cock down my throat. Fortunately, it was just average in size, but even so, I gagged when it hit the back of my throat. Meanwhile, the man fucking my pussy was pounding me hard. I guess hearing me getting gang banged in the nearby restroom had gotten him aroused. I have no idea why he hadn't taken a turn in private. Before he headed back to his seat, Andy had told me that he had filmed over seventy men fucking me in the restroom.

I never saw the man behind me. As soon as he finished, someone else took their place. While the second guy was pounding me, the man seated in front of me pulled my head down hard. He bellowed and shot a load of cum down my throat.

I guess most of the first-class passengers had already taken advantage of my generosity in the restroom because it only took fifteen minutes or so to service all the first-class passengers. Of course, Andy was filming the whole time.

Handling the guys in coach class was a problem with the crowded seating. After struggling to take care of someone sitting next to the window, Andy put on his producer's hat and called for a set change. He directed a big friendly gentleman to pick me up and carry me to the emergency exit row. The armrests were raised to provide an extended bench. A man was lying on his back with his head toward the aisle. He had a smile on his face as he stroked his cock. I was carefully lowered on top of the reclining man. I managed to ride him for a moment before the friendly gentleman, who had carried me to the exit row, pushed my torso down and slipped his cock into my well-lubed ass. I shoved the arm trapped against the seatback between my thighs and found my clit. My remaining free hand was guided to some guy's cock standing beside us. I wasn't surprised when someone lifted my head and offered me their cock. All I had to do was open my mouth.

Taking four men at a time improved my operational efficiency. At least that's how the assembly line engineer characterized my performance as he stood nearby, stopwatch in hand. "Great work. You're now doing four men every three minutes.

Andy continued to film while Hank rotated in new passengers as soon as one of my partners shot his load. Andy sometimes called for new arrangements, but they all involved multiple partners who drenched my naked body in cum. The job I'd done of cleaning my body before I left the bathroom was all for naught. I was quickly covered in cum by my eager fans, and the seat cushions were soaked. Despite my sordid, cum-stained appearance, new partners eagerly replaced those who left with a smile on their face.

I heard someone comment that the airplane smelled as raunchy as a Tijuana whorehouse on a Friday night in the summer. I was in a daze. My hot, sweaty body was jerking and twitching as multiple hard cocks drove me from one orgasm to the next, with barely enough time between them to catch my breath. I had completely lost control of my rampaging nymphomania. All I wanted were strong hands and hard cocks ravaging my burning flesh, and my fans didn't disappoint me. I screamed as strange men's fingers twisted my nipples and mauled my clit. Everywhere I looked, there were cocks coming at me from all directions. At one point, I even had two cocks in my ravenous pussy at the same time. The crazed passengers used my body with barely a nod to Andy, who directed their performance.

By the time the pilot finally announced we were cleared for landing, some passengers were coming back for a second go.

Andy laughed. "I think only a dozen passengers abstained from the fun. Some of them may be married men who remained faithful to their wives, but more likely they're gays from LA and not interested in women."

Hank carried me back to my seat and helped buckle my seat belt around my naked cum stained body. I was in a daze. The ecstasy was wearing off, leaving me on a drunken, amphetamine high. The downside of ecstasy is that it depletes your serotonin and leaves you depressed. I was physically exhausted and barely able to talk.

Andy handed me a drink. The cup of soda was half vodka. I drank it down quickly and laid my head back. I was still breathing hard. I kept my eyes closed because when I opened them, the room would spin around.

I felt the wheels screech as we hit the runway. I was slowly becoming aware of my surroundings. The cold air from the overhead air vents cooled the nasty stew of sweat and cum on my naked torso. I shivered as a glob of cum hung from my left nipple for a moment before dropping onto my bare thigh. A small stream of sweat and cum ran between my breasts, across my tight abdomen, and oozed around my protruding clit before running between my slightly spread thighs. I laughed at the thought that someone's sperm was desperately trying to find the opening to my vagina. Good luck swimming upstream against a river of other men's semen. I couldn't get any more pregnant than I already was. Thanks to my aunt, I was returning home pregnant with one or more colored men's babies. I forced myself to forget about my pregnancy and address my current problem. I'd still be pregnant tomorrow.

I looked from Hank to Andy and asked, "Where's my dress?"

Andy patted my arm. "No need to worry your pretty little head. After we reach our gate, the stewardess promised to help clean you up. You can put your dress on then. You don't want to get it soaked with cum. That's why you're sitting on a folded blanket."

As soon as he mentioned the blanket, I realized I was sitting in a pool of cum. The nasty stuff was running down my body and leaking out of my vagina and ass. I took the napkin from under my drink and wiped my chin. Andy handed me another full glass. While I gulped it down, he pulled some papers from his carry-on bag.

"This is a standard contract. It gives us permission to use the film we shot to make and distribute a movie. We're hoping your fame as Venus will sell the movie, but you're a new actress. We have no idea how well it will do, so we're prepared to take all the risk. Instead of a commission, we're paying you $4000 upfront for the rights."

I looked at Andy in surprise. That was a lot of money. It was enough to cover nearly a year of law school. I grabbed another napkin and wiped my hands before taking the ballpoint pen. I quickly scribbled my signature on the contract. He asked me to spell out my legal name and wrote out a check. When I put it in my purse, he took the paperback I'd been reading.

"I'd like to keep your book. If your airplane gang bang movie does well, we want to make another one soon. I would like to buy the rights to "The Devil's Mischief" and have you play the lead role. Maybe we'll put you on commission."