The Fiend's Tongue

"Can I get a light?" he asked politely.

"Sure," she said. "That all you're after?" Jessica undid the belt on her thin coat, letting it hang open. A cheap red dress that barely covered her ass awaited his eyes beneath. It matched her hair nicely – but mostly, she wore it because it was cheap, and trampy.

For most guys, that would've been enough of a signal, but Allen just gave her a once-over and politely looked away as he lit his own cigarette from her lighter. Menthols. What a pussy. She forced her professional smile, lips twisted up at one side wryly. "Um, I'm not sure what you..."

"You like what you see?" Jessica thrust her chest out. His eyes were drawn to it – one born every minute.

"Uh yeah, you're, um, very..."

"You wanna party?" She didn't have time to exchange pleasantries. It was Saturday night – peak hours for business. Allen the square stared uncomprehendingly. "Do. You. Want. To. Fuck. Me," she said, enunciating clearly so the moron could figure it out.

"You're serious?" His cock twitched in his tight little slacks. Good.

"$50 an hour, $300 for the whole night," she said. "Best money you'll ever spend."

"Jess!" he exclaimed. "What about our friends? Won't they wonder...?"

"They know the score – girl's gotta earn a living. You in or you out, baby?"

Allen paused, then flicked his cigarette to the curb and ground it out with his shoe. He reached for his wallet. "I only have $20's..."

Jessica sauntered over and deftly plucked four $20's out of his wallet, placed them in his hand as she guided it down her top, helping him to a copious feel of the money-makers. "What, you don't believe in tipping?" Teasingly, she sucked his fingertip into her mouth. She planned on emptying that wallet tonight.

"Um, my place or yours?" Allen asked in a tremulous voice.

She grinned and jerked her head to the nearby alley. "My place'll do just fine."

"How 'bout her? The Asian chick, on the end."

"You and your yellow fever, man. Surprised you didn't pick her out earlier."

Tyler grinned. "What can I say, the divining rod points where there's wetness, right?" He fondled his manhood in his meaty fist. "So what do you think? Do I got a shot?"

"You know how all these Asian college girls are – she barely speaks English, I bet."

"Does she have to?" Tyler joked.

Austin laughed. "Yeah, I guess she's good to go as long as she's seen Full Metal Jacket – all the vocab she needs, right?" The guys shared a chuckle.

Izumi – Michelle, as her American friends knew her – finished her drink and waved their waitress over to get her bill. She wouldn't be getting much of a tip – she paid way more attention to her male customers, and frankly, was being kind of a slut. Presently, she was too preoccupied by showing a group of drunk guys she could do the splits (even on the dirty bar floor) to even notice Izumi, so she just went up to the bartender.

After he finished getting another girl a drink, he came over to her. "What can I do for you?" he asked courteously.

"Me love you long time," she said. She frowned. Not speaking English was incredibly frustrating sometimes. Still, this should tell him she wanted to engage in commerce.

He looked surprised, then said something back. Gibberish, to Izumi's ears. She tried one of her other phrases. "Suckee suckee five dolla? Me so horny," she said, drawing out the 'r' sound. She thought she was saying it right, but the man just frowned and said something else, then walked away. Izumi didn't know what to do. She wanted to pay her tab, but didn't know how many suckees and fuckees it cost. To be trapped in a foreign country and barely speaking the language like this...

A man tapped her on the shoulder. He was smiling in a familiar kind of way, and said something to her, which she of course didn't understand. "Got girlfriend? Me so horny," she said by way of introduction. "Me love you long time," Izumi said. She turned and flipped her skirt up to confirm she wasn't wearing any panties.

He gave a response, and between his facial expression and his use of a few words she recognized – "ten dollars" – she recognized she was negotiating. She wiggled and plumped up her pert breasts, hard nipples denting her thin shirt outward. "Suckee suckee? Me love you too long." She bobbed her head in a blowjob motion to help him understand. She was worth fifteen dolla, easily.

They haggled back and forth – he wouldn't go above five, and she didn't want to settle that low. Luckily, the man had a few friends! Izumi made thirty dolla in the alley behind the bar (keeping a close eye on the other whore working her turf) sucking and fucking the lot of them, one after another. And then a couple at the same time. She left the cash at her table, and hoped it wasn't much of a tip.

As they kept going down the list of ladies, Austin talked him out of one after another. He had a good eye for these things – called them like he saw them, and he saw them pretty clearly. There was the cute little brunette with the #feelthebern t-shirt who, as Austin had said, revealed herself to be a hairy-lipped fatty when she turned around; the sweet-faced blonde who was actually a gold-digger, and she broke up with her boyfriend of three years right there in the bar; the blonde bimbo whose IQ was a number lower than her bra measurement who literally started drooling out of one side of her mouth; the prissy uptight prude whose shit didn't stink, who had a bizarre experience in the women's room a little while later.

No sir, it was not looking good. Both of the guys were pretty buzzed by now. "To think I was hoping to meet a woman here tonight," Tyler said sourly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, buddy. Hey, look back there."

He looked. In the dimly lit back room was a group of all girls sitting around a table – then as he focused, he saw they were all girls but one, the stand-out being a uniformed cop who was already in the midst of stripping off his uniforms. There were muffled squeals of delight from the girls as he straddled one girl's lap, gyrating his banana hammock in her face.

"Yeah, so?"

"Bachelorette parties are full of horny chicks, man – every bitch sitting around that table's got nothing on her mind but the horrors of lifelong celebacy. Especially the fuckin' bride-to-be."

"Yeah, but you can't just walk into a reserved room, at a private function, and start hitting on girls."

Austin scoffed. "Maybeyoucan't."

"Whatever. I don't care how smooth you are, the bride would toss your ass out in a heartbeat."

"Oh yeah? I go in there and show her what she's missing out on," he fondled his bulge crudely, "and that bitch will be bent over and begging for it. Bet ya ten bucks it doesn't even take me five minutes."

"You're on, dickhead."

With the hired stripper's junk up in her face – and with all her best friends watching – Sara's face was positively on fire with embarrassment. She'd never done anything like this before, never even set foot inside a strip club much less had some gigolo's pelvis wiggling around in her face. It was all very awkward, but she was happy to be indulging her friends' perverse sense of fun. After all, tomorrow was hers and Tim's big day, and with all the support and positivity they'd shown her, she'd suffer through ten strippers for them.

Not that she wasn't quietly dreading the thought of never fucking anyone but Tim ever again. He was the only man she'd ever been with, and had always been the only man she'd ever thought she wanted to be with... only now that that was becoming a reality... She shuddered.

Still, she loved him with all her heart; they'd been in love since college, and after a long, three-year engagement, it was finally time to tie the knot.

For the moment, however, she was just plain hot; the bar was toasty, and having that big hunk dancing all over her had been almost as bad as the embarrassment. She excused herself to the restroom – and bumped right into some guy, a tall, rock-hard mountain of beefy muscle. "Excuse me," she said. Sara went to go around him, but he stepped to block her path. She tried the other way, and he did it again. Accepting it wasn't just awkward timing in their mutual efforts to get around one another, she paused with a sigh.

"You don't need an excuse, baby," he said, grinning.

"Look at me, Conan," she said testily. It was her party, and she was in no mood to be hit on by this musclebound douche canoe. She held up her engagement ring and waved it in his face. "See this? This is an engagement ring. It means I'm going to get married. Tomorrow, in fact. To a man I am very much in love with."

"Oh yeah? Well let me showyousomething," he returned. She couldn't believe her eyes as he opened up the front of his pants right there in the corner of the bar!

And... holy SHIT. She couldn't believe...

The most perfect cock she'd ever seen. She had to have it.

"Oh wow... I'm... I'm... I'm so sorry!" She took her hand down, plucked the engagement ring off roughly. "I was, um, just kidding about the engagement. I wear it sometimes just to keep away the bad ones. Not hunks like you."

He chuckled. "You don't have to bullshit me, babe. I saw you in there having your bachelorette party. Just thought you might like one last little bout of fun before you hang up your hat."

"Oh, I would, I would!" Sara insisted, far too eagerly. Whatever. She didn't give a fuck. If eagerness got this guy's cock in her, she'd do it. She'd do anything for it.

"Well, you sure are a horny little slut," he said. This was true. She loved cocks; she was ready to fuck one at the drop of the hat. Her pussy juiced up so easily her friends called her Jiffy Lube. "What say we give you the dicking you seem to need so bad?"

Oh thank God, finally – she'd worried this total stranger want to talk for minutes and minutes yet before fucking her! She turned around and bent over, waving her ass at him in its skintight leggings. "Oh yes! Fuck me! Please, please fuck me! I'll do anything for a good fucking from your big cock!"

"Maybe not right here in the corner of the bar," he said, chuckling at her forwardness.

"Ladies' room!" she cried, and practically dragged him down the side corridor that lead to the restrooms. He let Sara tug him along in her wake, and the second they were in the bathroom, she didn't even hesitate before bending over the sink and pulling down her leggings and panties. Her juicy cunt beckoned to him, waving side to side as she tried to entice him into her.Are we alone in here?She didn't hear anyone.Oh, who cares, just fuck me already!

"So, what's your fella's name?" he asked as he shed his own pants.

"Tim. Please, please fuck me!"

"Tim must be all kinds of excited to have a girl like you, kinda girl who doesn't care who sees what a slut she is. He'll probably wanna thank me for breaking you in, eh?" the man chuckled. "Speaking of, I bet a friend of mine I could fuck you – do you mind if I take a quick video? Got $10 riding on this."

"Sure!" she said. What did Sara care who saw this? She just needed his cock, and there was no point being shy about it. Oh, and to be thoughtful, she added, "would you mind sending it to Tim? He really likes seeing me slut it up – and what's sluttier than being fucked by a total stranger in a dirty bar bathroom the night before your wedding, right?"

She gave him Tim's phone number, and he politely obliged. "Poor guy's never gonna be able to get it up again once he sees my cock fucking his fiancee," he said.

"Probably. Fuck me? Pleeeease?"

"All right, all right. Smile for the camera... what's your name?"

She giggled, having practiced this answer a thousand times in recent months. "Mrs. Timothy Beckstein."

JoAnna strode off after her friend in a huff – right past some massive jock who looked like he was watching a porn video on his cell phone. Pervert. This was so typical of Sara; that slut couldn't keep her legs closed for half an hour it seemed. Still, JoAnna had promised she'd keep her honest on this of all nights, and she meant to keep her word. Sara was probably just using the bathroom, but... couldn't hurt to be sure.

She could hear them fucking through the door. So much for just using the bathroom. JoAnna pushed open the door and strode in frostily.

There was Sara, bent at the waist, moaning and panting as some hulk drilled her from behind. This was far too familiar a sight – though it wasn't at all uncommon for her bachelorette friend to be getting her holes stuffed by way less hot guys than this. She was obviously enjoying it, judging from the blissful, slack-jawed semi-conscious expression on her face.

She cleared her throat loudly. Then again. The third time she just loudly said, "ahem!"

The two turned. Sara waved awkwardly. "Hi, Jojo!"

"Sara, what the fuck are you doing? Get off that dick right this second! You're getting married tomorrow! What the hell is wrong with you, you goddamn slut!"

With a little frown, the guy turned around, his glistening cock sliding out of Sara's pussy – well-stretched pussy, now.Holy fucking God in heaven. That is the most perfect dick I have ever seen. "Well hiya, Jojo."

"Um, hi. Can I fuck you? Just real quick, I promise you I'll be fast. I'm a virgin," she added. She'd meant to stay one until marriage, but fuck that. This cock was made for her.

"No!" Sara blurted selfishly. "He's fuckingme. Get your own cock."

"But I want it! You already had it, and besides, you're going to get fucked tomorrow night after the wedding! I won't get fucked for years yet, probably!"

"Tough titties." Sara stuck her tongue out – then dropped to a crouch and started licking her juices off the man's cock.

The bickering continued as JoAnna joined her friend on the floor. Sara's pussy tasted... pretty good, actually. Decent. Maybe it was just the way this perfect cock naturally tasted. They were still taking turns convincing him they were the better cock-sucker (not that either had any interest in sucking him, but if that lead to him fucking them...) when the door opened, and in walked Rebecca and Rachel, each wearing the same annoyed expression JoAnna herself had been when she burst in here.

Then they saw the cock, the perfect cock, and their jaws just dropped. Rachel was practically drooling.

"Good thing my girlfriend is so understanding... it looks like we're gonna have to have try-outs," the man said. JoAnna nodded – whatever it took – and tried to be the first one to be naked.

Tyler was about to pack up and go by the time his friend finally returned. "Fuck, Austin, I thought that bitch drowned you in there or something," he said grouchily.

Austin sidled back into his seat with a self-satisfied expression. "First off, don't be a hater. It doesn't suit you. Second off, it's not 'that bitch' – it's 'those bitches.' Maid of honor and a couple bridesmaids decided they needed a piece too."

"What? You just had a fucking orgy in the bathroom with an entire bachelorette party?!"

"Sure did."

"Heh. Guess that makes three and a half disappointed ladies."

Austin grinned at his friend's teasing. "Whatever. You know I got more stuff in the pipes than I know what to do with. Lucky for me, girls consider it a badge of honor to get a little dousing."

As if to confirm his boast, Tyler saw the women in question walking unmistakeably bow-legged back toward their party room. Each of them had what looked like a half pint of cum blasted all over their faces; he could see a couple of them whose clothes were also obviously soaking it in when they got dressed. They grinned brightly at Austin and waved, one of them mouthing "call me" and the others nodding agreement; Austin rolled his eyes like he was embarrassed to have it known he'd fucked them.

The two girls wearing skirts had his spunk visibly oozing down their thighs.

"You're fucking gross, man."

"And you're $10 poorer, man."

"Yeah, except you just sent me video proof of you cheating on Erika, and I know her phone number."

"You're not gonna send it to her. First off, if you do, no more fun-time pictures of my slutty girlfriend and her besty for you, my friend. Second off, you know as well as I do she'd just get turned on by it."

Tyler shrugged. "Fair point. Man, I can't believe whore you landed."

"Hey now – she's not a whore, she's a slut. Comes from up-bringing, you know. Now Erika's mom –there'sa real whore."

Several time zones away, Barbara rubbed at weary eyes. It was Friday evening and she was doing over-time. Again. Mr. Slater never appreciated the lengths she went to around the office, and it wasn't even the first time today she'd thought about turning in her two weeks.It was probably just the exhaustion talking,she reasoned. She didn'thateher job, even if she didn't really like it.

Besides, Erika depended on her to help pay down her college. It was just so expensive, and Barbara had never managed to save enough when her daughter had been younger. Now she was working 50-60 hours a week to help her through it – but a worthy sacrifice. Her daughter was... simple, sure, but she was kind, and dedicated. Maybe, just maybe, if she could finish college, she'd have something to fall back on.

Heaven knows she couldn't count on that awful boyfriend of hers, she thought as she shut down her computer and excused herself to the restroom before heading home. That boy Austin, he was no good – always taking her for granted, cheating on her with her friends (and strangers too, no doubt). Which was to say nothing of how he'd pressured her into such risque career choices, posing in ever-skimpier outfits. They'd been quite the sensation around her office when they first emerged; she'd been almost too embarrassed to show her face.

"Three minutes!" yelled her manager into the bathroom.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be right out!" she said. Barbara – or Bunni as they knew her around the club – hated how freely Mr. Slater treated the girls' dressing room. She was hardly in the mood for it tonight – at the start of her shift, she was as tired as if she'd just got done putting in a full day's work. She inspected her tits in the mirror – not at all bad for a woman her age – and smudged on some of the glue that would hold on her booby tassles.

This was the annoying part of her job – the stripping. She'd be on stage, busting her ass and giving herself arthritis on that damned pole, all for a few fives and twenties from the horny jerks who were too cheap or stupid to ask for the real thing. It was chump change – hardly the kind of thing that would cover her plan to get implants, much less help Erika finance her college degree. Even with that scholarship from those sleazy football boosters, she still had to eat.

Heaven knows she was too stupid to land a white collar job, but hopefully she'd at least be able to be a secretary. Or a trophy wife. Something respectable like that.

The stripping was good advertising, and a solid show always meant she'd have more guys willing to shell out for a good time in the back room. There weren't many gals her age at the club, but Mr. Slater was more interested in willingness than desireability, and besides, she was still pretty hot. Her pussy still fetched $200 and her mouth $100, and she got to keep around half after tipping the bouncers and giving Slater his cut.

Bunni sprinkled a little glitter on her boobs, to make them pop better in the club's multi-hued lighting. It would itch a little and wind up getting everywhere, but...

"You're on, Bunni!" She didn't bother smiling – no one would believe it, and nobody cared if she was happy. Her tits jiggled and her body was for sale.