Their Private Dancer

I approach the bed and ask, in a cool professional manner, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"You can suck me off," is the blunt reply.

I hesitate, unsure of the best way to approach it.

"Straddle me facing my feet," Willoughby instructs me. "As you would for a 69, but don't expect me to eat your pussy. Your job is get me off, not the other way round."

I do as I am told and when I open his pyjama fly and a massive pole springs out I warm to my task. His cock is circumcised, as fat as he and scrupulously clean. I make sure my tongue is good and wet and run it around the ridge of his corona, sucking the glans experimentally. He hums a little and I dip my tongue into his pisshole, briefly remembering his unpleasant remark to Marnie. I wonder if this is a service Jason offers his residents and whether it is one I will be expected to perform. I push the thought from my mind and concentrate on the much more pleasant task of giving head. I'm stimulating his veiny shaft with my lips and tongue now and moving the tips of my fingers in circles over his scrotum. He's trying to conceal his enjoyment but he is making little moans now.

I'm good at this, I like it and I know I have him.

I feel my pussy moisten and I lift my hips in the air and shake them provocatively so he can see my labia over the mountain of his belly. I know he'll have to touch the wetness there and sure enough he dips a thick finger into my hungry hole. I gasp and quiver in delight. I am sliding down on his cock, my mouth is full but my lips are not yet touching his pubic hair. I relax my throat and the head of his cock slips past my tonsils as I slurp and gurgle. I know his type: he won't want me to enjoy it too much, so I deliberately gag and choke a little.

To my surprise - I wasn't expecting it so soon - he stiffens and groans and I pull back a little to take his full load on my tongue.

"Hold it in your mouth!" he croaks as he cums. When it stops pumping his seed into me I let his dick slip from my full mouth, careful not to spill a drop. His cum is copious, watery and bitter but I hold it as instructed.

"Get off me," he says, and when I do, "Open your mouth. Show me my load."

Obediently, I open my mouth wide, as if for a dental check-up, and he grins in satisfaction at its fullness.

"Now swallow it all down," he grins.

I gulp and retch for effect then open my empty mouth again for inspection.

"You dirty cum-guzzling slut," hisses Mr Willoughby. "You loved it, didn't you?"

"Oh yes, sir," I agree, smiling at him. The corners of his mouth twitch slightly. "Kiss me," he says, and I do as I'm told, wincing a little as his meaty hand on the back of my head crushes my lips between us.

"When's her next shift?" he asks Marnie.

"Just complete your evaluation, Mr Willoughby," she replies and we move on.

. . .

My next two clients, Mr Hyde and Mr Wellings, are in the middle of a game of cards. They break off to take turns squeezing my tits and pinching my already-erect nipples. They are clearly good friends, with adjoining rooms, and their physical difficulties are not immediately discernible. They seem fit enough, and agree to take me together, on Mr Hyde's carpeted floor. First, they spit-roast me, Mr Wellings fucking my bruised mouth while Mr Hyde rams his Viagra-bolstered erection into my swollen cunt from behind. Then, after a conference over my body as they pound it from both ends, they decide to mix things up. Mr Hyde lies on the shag pile and pulls me on top of him. I impale myself on a cock already well-lubricated with my own juices and traces of Mr Jacobs' semen as Mr Wellings gets himself into position and eases his saliva-soaked penis into my tight arsehole. I push back so that my sphincter stretches to admit him.

As they double-penetrate me, they want my life story. I struggle to chat as I am stuffed in both holes. They marvel at my youth while also agreeing that I look even younger, telling me that I am younger than their grandchildren. They are positively garrulous. I moan and whimper and then scream as they force me to cum.

"Did you just cum?" asks Mr Wellings in surprise.

"Yes, sir," I squeal.

"You are a responsive young woman," Mr Hyde remarks. "I can feel her cunt gripping me," he says over my shoulder.

"And her legs are quivering," replies his friend. "I think we can make her cum again."

Sure enough, after a couple of minutes' more thrusting I am randomly howling out their names: "Oh, Mr Hyde! Fuck my pussy! Oh, Mr Wellings! You are stretching my arsehole!" and my whole body convulses between them as they laugh in satisfaction and simultaneously unload inside my cunt and bowels.

I am spent by now and when Mr Wellings levers himself off me, Marnie (who has just fingered herself to her own orgasm, lying on Mr Hyde's bed) helps me to my feet and leads me to the en suite wet room. She sits me on the bidet and turns it on to wash away some of the fluids streaming from my twat and anus. Then she passes me a fluffy white towel.

As she watches me dry myself she asks in wonder, "Are you enjoying this as much as you seem to be?"

I look at her in surprise. "My first shift and I've cum three times," I say. "Yes, of course: I love my work."

She laughs and holds my dress as I shrug into it and zips it up for me.

When we re-enter Mr Hyde's room, the two old men are dressed again and playing another hand. I kiss them both in turn and thank them politely, sincerely for my orgasms.

. . .

Marnie and I are sipping cappuccinos in the staff room when Bernadette joins us, looking flustered and dishevelled. She grabs her own drink then tidies her hair and repairs her make up in the mirror.

"What time is it?" she asks Marnie, blotting her lipstick.

"Just gone half past eight," Marnie says. "I'll just finish this coffee and I'll be heading home."

"Shit! Come on, Sienna," Bernie cries, decanting her coffee into a travel mug. "We need to get over to Dementia."

"'Night, Marnie," I call over my shoulder as she hustles me out of the door. "Thank you."

"I've no doubt I'll be seeing you again very soon," Marnie smiles.

We pass a couple of support workers going in the other direction as we hurry down the corridor. They smile at us and say hi. One has curly red hair and a rounded very pregnant belly. The other has a thin frame but huge, swollen breasts. The white fabric covering them is soaked in round patches over her protruding nipples.

"A couple of our specialist girls," explains Bernie breathlessly, "catering for particular interests. Some of the residents like to fuck pregnant women like Tanya -"

"What does her husband think about it?" I ask, curiously.

"Oh, she's single," Bernie says.

"Who's the father?" I ask.

Bernie shrugs. "Who knows? One of the residents. No condoms are allowed here so when Tanya came over all broody she simply stopped taking the pill and let nature take its course."

"And the girl with the huge boobs?"

Bernie giggles. "That's Lactating Lisa, our wet nurse. Quite a few of the residents have a breast-milk fetish. They like to suckle (and it's very nutritious for those with feeding or swallowing problems) or some just like to be sprayed with it. She gave up feeding her kid when he turned two but she still has a good supply from all the action she gets here." I consider this. If I want children I will have to stop dancing at John's club, but at the care home I could combine career and motherhood with ease.

"And Jason has her in his office a lot," Bernie adds, lowering her voice. "Apparently, she sits on his lap and rides his cock as he drinks from her."

"Jason, the manager?" My nipples and clit pulse, but there is no time to digest what I have just heard. Bernie is pushing open a door marked "Dementia".

We walk into a large day room. Around fifteen riser-recliner chairs are arranged in a large circle and occupied by elderly men, all wearing pyjama tops but naked from the waist down. In the centre of the circle is a long, wide, upholstered footstool. Music is playing and as we enter, a young man in a nurse's tunic and black trousers greets us with, "At last - the floor-show." He turns up the volume and, incongruously, Charlie Puth's "Marvin Gaye" blares out. Bernie takes me hand and draws me into the centre of the circle.

We begin to dance together, our hands exploring each other's bodies.

"We don't initiate contact with the dementia patients," Bernie says in my ear. "They are deemed incapable of informed consent. Technically, if we touch them it could be construed as assault under common law."

I digest this as she moves behind me and presses her skinny body against me. She reaches around me to unzip my dress and pushes it off my shoulders. Once again I am wearing only my stockings and heels. Her hands find my breasts and she pinches my already-hard nipples. My clit fizzes. I turn in her arms.

"So," she murmurs, "this is, like the man said, kind of like a floorshow."

I kiss her full, glossy lips, pushing my tongue into her mouth, and pull down the zip on her dress so she too is naked. Her hold ups are nude with deep lace tops. I slip my hand between her thighs and find a patch of soft hair on her mound. This is a surprise - we are all waxed in the club and I have never fondled a woman with hair down there before. It holds her scent. I step back to look at her body. She is even thinner without her dress and her tits are tiny - not even a handful - but with long nipples that press against my palms as I cup her breasts. I dip my head to suck them, one at a time (her boobs are too little to mash together and get both in my mouth at once).

When I raise my head I glance around the circle of spectators. The male nurse is openly masturbating as he watches us, but he is not the only one. Some of the residents are not even looking, completely oblivious to their surroundings, but the majority have erections and a handful are stroking themselves. All are drooling, to a greater or lesser extent.

Bernie pushes me onto the footstool and moves between my legs. I feel her warm breath on my inner thighs as she spreads my labia and seeks my clitoris. She has no need to push back the hood - it is engorged and ready for her. She sucks it into her mouth and circles it with her tongue. I gasp and writhe beneath her. She laps at me for some minutes as I lift my hips and twine my fingers in her hair, but we both know there is no bonus for making each other cum and when I am on the brink of orgasm she abruptly stops and slithers up my body and thrusts her pussy-flavoured tongue into my panting mouth.

Hardly letting me catch my breath, she hauls me to my feet. My legs are trembling and I stagger a little. She whispers, "Now we move round the circle, dancing for each one in turn."

Automatically, I lift my hands above my head and begin to move my hips. We make our way around the circle of dribbling residents, Bernie signalling to me with a lift of her eyebrows when she judges it time to move on. As I writhe astride my fourth dementia patient, he suddenly shoots out his hands, grasps my hips and pulls me down onto him. As his stiff prick slips into my sopping hole I panic, remembering Bernie's lecture about the legal pitfalls of sexual contact without informed consent. I crane my head around, my eyes seeking hers, only to see her sinking onto an erect pole herself. She is grinning widely. "It's a problem if we initiate activity," she calls, reading my mind. "If they grab us then what can we do? Sexual disinhibition is not uncommon among dementia patients. Just enjoy it."

I take her advice. I lean forward to French kiss my resident, grinding down on him, closing my eyes. My hungry twat needed to be filled and juices are running down where our bodies meet to soak the upholstery of his chair. The male nurse moves to stand between Bernie's resident and mine, for a better view. He reaches out a hand to squeeze my breast and Bernie snaps, "Oh no, nurse. Don't you dare get between a support worker and her paying customer."

My clit is pressed hard against the resident's pelvis and I feel my orgasm building in my very core. The waves begin to radiate outwards and I withdraw my tongue from his toothless mouth, flinging my head back as I surf them, crying out in ecstasy. I have no idea how aware he is, but he must dimly realise a woman is cumming on his cock - either that or it's the spasming of my cunt walls that sucks his semen from his balls. He groans, digs his fingers into my hips and releases his load inside me. Bernie is crying out, too and bucking on her client.

The nurse fires jets of spunk towards me and some lands on my deep red nipples. He apologises insincerely and makes a big show of wiping it from my tits, taking the opportunity to have a good grope before I irritably push his hands away. I kiss my resident tenderly on his dry lips before carefully dismounting. Despite my care, fluid oozes from my pussy and, just as with Mr Jacobs, I kneel and lap it up.

When I rise and look around, several of the other residents have a mess of cum in their laps. We complete our circuit of the ring, cleaning each post-orgasmic senior with our eager tongues. No-one else is capable of intercourse.

. . .

Bernie takes my hand as we make our way back to the staff room.

"I really enjoyed going down on you," she says. "Let me show you the hot tub and finish the job."

It's past ten thirty but I am in no hurry to get home. I have much later nights on shift at the club, and tonight has been amazing. Bernie takes me into a large, dimly-lit circular room lined with stone benches and with a steaming hot tub in the middle. I remove my dress for the last time tonight and sit on one of the benches, and Bernie squats at my feet, easing off the red fuck-me shoes and peeling off the soiled white stockings. Then she removes her own clothes and helps me into the hot tub, pressing a button to start the bubbles. I lie back in the water, luxuriating in the warmth and letting the jets soothe my aching inner thighs.

Bernie lets me relax for a few minutes and then leans over and begins to kiss me deeply before turning her attention to my breasts. My nipples have softened but they quickly swell again in her hot mouth as her tongue flicks over them. She eases a finger between labia swollen from multiple orgasms and pushes it into me. I arch my back, gasping.

"Sit on the edge of the tub," she tells me and I do as I am told, spreading my legs wide.

Her tongue soothes my well-used genitals and I lean back, enjoying her gentle attention. She laps at my clit expertly and I am amazed to find I am approaching another climax. She sucks lightly and I buck and scream - just as the door opens.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," says an apologetic male voice. "I didn't realise anyone was in here. I was just going to test the filtration system."

Bernie lifts her face, her chin shiny with my juices, and smiles warmly at the intruder.

"Hi, Seb," she says. "How are you, sweetie?"

"Bernie!" says the boy. Although he uses her name he is addressing her naked breasts and blushing deeply at the sight of her rising from my crotch.

I slide back into the roiling water and look at him more carefully. He is a nice looking boy, probably my own age or a year younger, but callow. Not my type. He appears to be Bernie's, though. Despite still having my cunt-juice all over her face she is chatting away to him about his day. He appears to be responsible for maintenance and odd jobs.

"Come on, Seb," she's saying. "Come in for a while. You must have earned a break. She stands up and water cascades down her thin, naked body. His mouth drops open and his trousers tent, but he glances at me nervously.

"Oh, Sienna's just leaving," she says, winking at me.

I grin and stand up, climbing out of the tub. I extend a hand to shake Seb's as he looks my nude form up and down. "Nice to meet you," I say, gathering up my discarded clothing and pulling one of the robes on pegs by the door over my nakedness. "See you soon, Bernie. Thank you for making me cum."

Seb stares.

"It was a pleasure," says Bernie. "You owe me one."

I leave them there, wondering how long they will remain in the tub.

. . .

Damp hair combed and fully-dressed, I leave the staff room and head for the exit. I am surprised, in view of the late hour, to see Jason's office light is still on as I pass the half-open door.

"Sienna?" he calls and I stick my head round the door.

"Please, come in," he says. "Shut the door."

I take a seat.

"So, how did you find your trial shift?"

"I loved it," I say, truthfully, the slight soreness between my legs attesting to the fun I have had.

"I have some of your evaluations here," says Jason, fingering a sheaf of papers. He slides it across the table towards me and I study the top sheet. It is covered in shaky, spidery blue old-man writing:

SUPPORT WORKER EVALUATION

Client's name: Frederick Jacobs

Support worker's name Siena [he has spelt my name like the Italian city. I bet he's been there.]

Did you reach orgasm? : Yes

Did the worker appear to reach orgasm? : Yes

Did you believe it to be genuine? : Yes

Why/why not? Her tight cunt spasmed and gripped my dick like a vice. It was heaven.

How would you rank the worker out of ten?

Appearance : 10, especially the tits.

Effort 10

Enjoyment : 10

Overall ranking 10

Would you avail yourself of the worker's services again? : Yes. I want to book her every week please - make a note, Sargent.

Why/why not? She is the best fuck I've ever had, and so polite. I'd like to die inside this girl.

Any other comments: Please transfer £500 to Siena from my account.

Supervisor's comments: What a find. This girl really loves to fuck the residents.

"They are all just as positive," Jason says, looking closely at me. "And you fucked our two most difficult residents today. Marnie Ferris came watching you, and she isn't easy to impress. I understand you were double penetrated by Hyde and Wellings?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you take it up the arse?"

"Yes, sir."

"Strip and bend over that chair."

"Yes, sir."

I take off my clothes and bend over, as instructed. Jason strips too and retrieves a bottle of lubricant from a desk drawer.

When he is inside my rectum he says, "I want you back here again for the evening shift tomorrow night. Get here half an hour early and be ready for me."

"Yes, sir."

He pounds into me roughly, as if he's trying to split me in half. He grabs my tits, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh - apparently determined to mark me as his own. I won't be able to work the club for a while, but then I'd much rather be here. I close my eyes and move my hips, fucking him back. One of his hands works its way down to rub my clit. I focus on the sensation. Then I freeze and gasp.

"Are you cumming, Carrick?" growls my boss.

"Yes, sir," I say. "Oh God, yes."