Rod's Pleasure Carnival Pt. 05

"Not bad at all, girls," Dill said, so I paused to catch a breath and look at him with lightly smeared makeup. "Let's try a little penetrative performance, on the couch there," he motioned with his hand and tapped the camera to make sure it was still rolling. Terry helped us up, and we shimmied out of our skirts and sexy panties, before climbing onto the couch with our asses sticking out. Marcy's pale complexion made my mocha skin look darker by comparison. Terry inspected our holes in turn, dipping a couple of fingers in, tonguing them a bit, giving our cheeks a hard smack and grinning when we yelped and giggled. We'd both gotten waxed the day before, and were looking deliciously prim, if I do say so.

Then, he turned us away from each other, facing opposite directions over each arm of the couch. He rested a big knee on the cushion between us, facing toward my ass, and placed a hand on the small of my back. He guided his slimy, fat rod with the other hand and pressed it to my damp slit, making me shiver -- as much the result of nervousness as horny anticipation. Terry was fucking hot. He was WAY too big for me. But he also knew what he was doing. For once I didn't feel like a guy was trying intentionally to break me -- even if it might happen by accident.

He pushed his hips forward a little, and the boulder at the top of his cock pressed against my smooth lips, making my toes curl a bit. He waggled his beefy head along the entrance, mixing his precum, Marcy's throat slime, and my own aroused juices, before pressing again and plopping the fat dome inside me. I let out an honestly, completely authentic groan, and he moved his hands to my hips. Behind him, Marcy wiggled her own little white cheeks, and dipped a finger between her thighs to masturbate to the sounds of me being fucked. I wrapped my ankles around Terry's knee, and he steadily humped his thick gut-tunneler into me, a couple of inches at a time.

"Ffff-uuuhhh...cckkk," I shivered, feeling my pussy walls stretching like an accordion around his size. I even pressed a hand to my stomach, expecting to feel a bulge there that would dent the arm of the couch. I didn't actually feel anything, but he was still only halfway inside. When he wound my pony around his knuckles -- its predicted and intended purpose -- and began bucking his hips toward me, I had to seize the arm of the couch with both hands to keep from springing across the room. If he went any deeper I thought I'd feel the head of his cock making it's way up my neck, and my limbs started jerking involuntarily as he got into a lustful rhythm that even he seemed entranced by.

"Ahh-huAHhh-ffuu-UHHuu--aHH," I couldn't make words as he gruffly plumbed the depths of my womb, bucking deeper into me until the pain of his meat battering my cervix melded into all the other full-body orgasmic noise I was getting lost in. For the moment, he seemed to have forgotten about Marcy, only occasionally bumping her ass with his while she stroked her clit behind us, making O-faces for Dill and the camera while the room filled with the smell of sex. Terry grunted and pounded, squeezing my hips tight enough to bruise them, black balls smacking against my waxed landing strip as he gorilla-fucked me into the corner. He only stopped when I wailed like an alley cat in heat and gushed a wet firehose blast of pussy cum against his thighs and the couch. I shivered and groaned like an ancient Greek oracle, while he regained his professional senses and laughed heartily.

"S-sorr-sorry," I quivered out, face completely flushed and sweaty. My eyes were out of focus and I was shoved so hard against the side of the couch I was nearly falling over it. Terry helped me scoot back, then stood up for a moment, withdrawing his marvelous fuckstick from my abdomen in a long, wet squelch. My legs were soaked with the shimmery waterfall of my orgasm, and I felt like a puppet dropped from its operators hand as I wheezed for breath.

"That's okay," Dill sounded amused, "not the first time that's happened with Terry." He indicated it was Marcy's turn, and Terry rotated to kneel behind her next. Her gash was slippery from all the fingering, and the big black mushroom was soaked with my juices, so Terry was able to get the first few inches in without much trouble.

"Oh... Fu-uuuck..." Marcy actually sounded uneasy for once. Around the 7-inch mark Terry bottomed out in her pussy, and it didn't seem like there was going to be any additional space suddenly discovered down there. He pumped his hips steadily, rocking her little body over the leather sofa arm while prodding her cervix like a broom handle. I could feel her legs shaking on the cushion behind me, even as I came back down from outer space and my own legs stopped feeling like they were made of jelly. Terry kept on like that for a couple minutes -- and then, either because he was tired of the roadblock, or just wanted to switch gears, he slid out and pressed into Marcy's asshole.

"Ah-OHF--uuummmfff..." Her body jolted, and he grabbed her shoulders to keep her from lunging away. He ground his hips back and forth, bumping my ass a few times, until he'd lodged most of himself up into Marcy's tiny rectum. Her teeth were clenched so tight Dill thought she might give herself lockjaw. But he let Terry continue making a sleeve of her for a few more minutes to see how she'd manage. Ultimately, she struggled through the intestine-mining expedition with little complaint, only cursing and sweating profusely when the broom handle was finally dislodged from her asshole.

"Bravo, that's not a small feat," Dill leaned back as Terry stood aside from his two trembling cock sockets on the couch. We adjusted on the cushions to stretch our cramping legs, but Marcy didn't want to sit all the way down, for obvious reasons. "Just want to run through the coup de grace one time, and that'll probably do it for today."

"Right, of course," I smiled lazily. "Any particular preference?"

"Hmm, dealer's choice. Terry?" Dill looked at his huge colleague.

"I mean, these are pretty nice," Terry grinned, reaching down to squish one of my tits in his palm again. Dill motioned for him to take it away, and Terry began easing me back on the cushions. Marcy stood and rounded the opposite arm, kneeling shakily on the floor behind where my head landed. Then the male star climbed over my belly, resting his knee in the cut where loose change and remotes tend to disappear forever. His other foot stayed on the floor, and his slimy, ass-smelling shaft rested along the full length of my sternum. I was just reaching up to squeeze my meaty brown tits around it when Marcy's hands beat me to it. I tilted my face up to see her steamed glasses overhead and she gave me a little smirk.

Terry placed a hand on the back of the couch, and another on his hip, giving the GoPro a clear view of him rhythmically plowing my chest. I just held onto his waist, and tried to look sexy while his smelly mushroom bumped the underside of my chin. If he were to suddenly drop his weight he'd probably have crushed the life out of me. Even his hairless, black bowling balls felt like they weighed 10 pounds as they dragged over my ribs and prepared to splatter me with another daily load of nut gunk. Marcy and I were both off from the carnival that night, but it looked like we couldn't escape the cocks or cum, regardless.

"Mmmh, fuck," Terry breathed, and I watched his hips flex, then Marcy leaned down and started making out with me. I wasn't expecting it, and flinched a bit when she worked her tongue into my mouth, but I followed her lead and started moaning like I might cum again. Terry's strokes sped up between my tits, and my moaning was actually stuttered a little by his mushroom jabbing into my neck. Marcy's hands and my tits were so slippery with drool and precum that she kept having to adjust her grip, until he finally pulled free and started stroking feverishly.

Marcy lowered her head beside mine and we both looked up with expectant smiles, as the black bull gritted his teeth and groaned. A gloopy barrage of glistening ropes came fast and heavy, painting my eyes shut first like spermy camouflage, before he turned to decorate Marcy too. The fat white reams drizzled her glasses and lips before also dripping onto my face, and he rubbed the last few jumpy dribbles over my hardened nipples, before lifting himself off of me to stand by the door.

"Whew, let's have a look, girls," Dill said, clapping his hands together before standing and picking up the camera. He carried it over to us, and brought it close to observe Terry's handiwork trickling down our cheeks like Elmer's glue. Unlike me, Marcy could still see, and made a show of licking my forehead and her fingers clean as the camera closed in on us. "Excellent, love it," Dill said, and tapped the button to stop recording.

"That was fun -- nice job, ladies," Terry said, smiling and picking up his clothes as his hefty boat pontoon deflated. "Anything else, boss?"

"Nope, that's all for now -- thank you, Terry. Let Annie know we'll need some wipes in a few, please," Dill waved and set the camera down on his desk. Terry nodded and departed without dressing, closing the door again behind him. As Marcy helped me sit up, I felt the puddle of jizz collected between my collar bones roll down my chest and over my belly.

"Shorry ahbot yhow cohsh," I oozed through goopy lips -- I'd gotten a decent amount of cum in my mouth after my nose got covered by an errant stream.

"Oh, not to worry -- the one I sleep on is in the employee lounge," Dill joked. Marcy plopped down beside me and swiped a finger over my eyes so that I could at least see while we talked to the exec. She licked them clean and gave me a quick smile. "Well, Lenny proves himself again," Dill leaned on the front of his desk like before. "I can think of a few productions I'd like to try you girls in, if you'd be interested."

"Oh, yeah that'd be awesome," I grinned after swallowing the cum backwash, then looked to Marcy who nodded her agreement.

"Definitely. We just -- still work a lot of nights at Rod's. Would that be a problem?" She asked.

"No, not likely. We mostly film during the day, unless a scene calls for something at night outdoors. I'd only be concerned if you were feeling cocked out between the carnival and any recording you do here with us."

"Well, hasn't happened yet! And we've been at this for a while -- the carnival's pretty intense, sometimes," I said, thinking back to Harpreet's mention of the new Gokk-zilla attraction.

"Well, great then. If you've got some time Tuesday I can have Annie draft up the starter paperwork, and we'll get all the red tape stuff out of the way. Then we can talk features, see what interests you."

"Yeah, sounds great," Marcy said, seeing the room through a glazed white smear on her specs. Then, Annie came in with a packet of wet wipes and a spray bottle. The answer to the question of who cleans porn casting couches after they get soaked with cum and spit turned out to be painfully obvious -- the owner's hot secretary, of course.