Mature The Stimulus Plan Slut

His was certainly not the biggest cock I've sucked or the longest, but as I ran my tongue up and down Mister Richards' erection, it occurred to me that his was my favorite. I felt my banker's and benefactor's fingers running through my dark hair and felt that delicious thrill run through me that I'd felt the first time he'd demanded I suck his cock and had experienced every single time I'd gone to my knees for him since. In truth, now that it had almost a year since I'd agreed to be a whore for him and the wealthier people in town, I reckoned I'd had his cock in my mouth close to a hundred times. Another naughty thrill ran through my body as I realized that I'd sucked Mister Richards' cock more often than anyone else in my life...including my husband, Donnie.

I licked the long length of his shaft and then my lips slid over his swollen crown, my tongue swirling over the ridges of his cock head before I slowly took all of him in my mouth. All the time, my eyes were fixed upon his face, always assessing his expressions of pleasure and when we made eye contact, trying to convey how much I enjoyed being his whorish slut.

Twice a week -- every Tuesday and Thursday without fail, I'd come at two o'clock in the afternoon and been admitted to his private office by his secretary, Lily Fox where he'd order me to strip and then crawl across the room to him on my hands and knees to suck his cock, usually tasting of Lilly's pussy. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, I would be sent out to service various customers in whatever way they commanded me. In exchange, my mortgage was paid every month and as I'd discovered to my surprise, often the tips were substantial. In the process, I'd also discovered that there was a sex crazed slut buried within me that reveled in fucking and sucking.

Mr. Richards, well into his fifties, slightly balding with a pot belly, let out a long, pleased sigh, squirming happily on his couch as I fluttered my tongue over his cock head and then took all his length until his graying pubic hairs tickled my nostrils. "Oh, Sonya...what a cocksucker you are!" he sighed.

Slowly I let him slip from between my lips, planting a gentle kiss on the piss slit of his penis and in a soft and anxious voice said, "I'd be happy to do more, Mister Richards. I'd love to feel you in my pussy." It was an offer I made every time I visited his office...an offer that made my pussy wet just thinking about my cunt being stuffed with his cock. Over the last year, I'd grown envious of Lilly Fox, suspecting he fucked her daily.

Mister Richards smiled down at me, shook his head and as he did every time I offered to fuck him said, "Thank you, but no, Sonya. We have our agreement." His hand pressed down on my head until again I took him between my lips, sighing just a little. Disappointed yet again, I refocused on pleasing him to the best of my ability and again began to lavish all my cocksucking talents on my benefactor.

All too soon, I felt his pulse quicken in the thick vein running the length of his cock. Mister Richard's breath came faster and then his cock head swelled slightly and as I moaned approvingly, he began shooting semen, hot, thick and salty -- into my mouth and I happily and loudly swallowed it, savoring the taste of semen as it flowed down my throat.

As was our ritual after a year, I quickly dressed and prepared to go. "See you next Tuesday, sir," I said as I turned towards the door, Mister Richards already back at his desk.

"A moment, Sonya," Mister Richards said, halting me in my tracks. He looked at me, an evil smile on his face. "Will you be home this evening?"

"Yes," I replied, my heart suddenly increasing its beating. Anything out of the ordinary always promised to be an exciting and erotic event.

"You aren't scheduled for an appointment until Saturday, but would you be available for an extended weekend -- say, Friday through Monday?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. I had never been on any assignment that took more than twenty-four hours. "It would provide a considerable bonus -- ten thousand dollars."

"Who do I have to fuck...or do I have to kill someone?"

Mister Richards chuckled and said, "I very much doubt killing comes into it, how ever, one might ask not who you'll have to fuck, but how many?"

I think I raised my other eyebrow and my labia already wet and slick almost seemed to pucker. "I'm sure I can arrange to be available for the weekend," I replied, my voice growing husky.

My banker nodded and said, "Fine, expect a call from Mr. Stockman this evening -- sometime after seven o'clock."

I nodded, trying to conceal my now burgeoning excitement. "Thank you, Mister Richards, until Tuesday." I let myself out, nodding to his secretary, the sultry Lilly Fox who nodded back, offering me her smirking and knowing smile as she always did. I managed to contain myself until I reached the safe confines of my car when I let out a long, aroused moan -- my hand quickly slipping underneath my skirt to caress the small swatch of cloth that covered my pussy mound -- already soaked with my juices.

Mr. Stockman -- owner of Stockman's Financial Group and my first and most common clients. Four times over the past year, I'd been the party favor at Stockman's Industries monthly meetings, spending the bulk of it under the immense conference table, sucking cock and licking pussy. The top monthly producer gets to fuck me on top of the table while their coworkers cheer us on. Mr. Stockman ranks right up there with Mr. Richards of men I yearn to fuck. Handsome in a rugged way with a deep bass voice like Gregory Peck or Charlton Heston, I'd never met a man in their seventies that turned me on so.

My drive home was an exercise in restraint. Just knowing I would be doing something for Mr. Stockman had me on the verge of pulling over and fist fucking myself to orgasm after orgasm. And that was without figuring in his daughter, Joan into the deal. Fiftyish, buxom and ripe, she was one of the women I would lick to orgasm under that conference table. Each time, afterwards she had hinted how much she'd like to return the favor and she and her father had made it clear that they were lovers -- something else that aroused me on its own.

Still as aroused as I was -- I could sense trouble arising from this possible assignment. To say that my marriage had become strained since I had become Mr. Richards whore would be an understatement. True, what I did had kept us from losing our home and the extra money my "tips" brought in had allowed us to catch up on all our bills and provide some breathing space as well, but it had also served to make both Donnie and me face some new truths about ourselves.

For me, it had opened my eyes to new realms of possibility -- new worlds of sexual experience and pleasure I had never dream possible and which I have without reservation embraced and will never give up. For Donnie, it has been an experience that he both loathes and yet embraces. He is repelled by my willingness to fuck anyone -- to surrender myself to carnality in its purest forms, yet he is unable to deny his attraction to me as a slut -- to both despise and love me when I come home stinking of sperm and pussy. Despite his loathing of me and of himself, he cannot resist fucking me when my cunt is packed with another man's semen.

Each time I return home from an assignment, Donnie makes his anger and revulsion evident, verbally abusing me -- sometimes getting mildly violent before yielding to his baser urges, fucking my already well fucked and cum filled body -- eating other men's seed from my cunt, even my ass, hating me and yet loving me with every lick of his tongue and every thrust of his cock. Truth be told -- now as I was into my second year as a whore, he rarely initiated sex unless I'd already been fucked.

Outside our bedroom, we seemed to get along relatively well, only our oldest -- Tara -- seemed to pick up on the tension that existed between us. Where it would end, I wasn't sure. I didn't believe that Donnie would snap and seriously harm me, but I knew deep inside me that if forced to choose between my husband and my new way of life, Donnie would lose. I am a slut and I glory in it. I will not and cannot change.

When I arrived home, I found that Tara and the younger kids had beaten me home. It was Tara's responsibility to pick her siblings up on the days I had my assignments. I was aware that Tara at least suspected what I was doing to keep a roof over our heads and she had made it clear that she supported me in that. I loved my nearly eighteen year old daughter dearly for that. She and her younger brother and sister were doing homework at the kitchen table and I paused to hug each of them before going to change.

Each of them was growing up too fast. Tara, now a senior in high school would turn eighteen just before Christmas and then graduate in another six months. Soon I'd have a college student on my hands! My son, Donnie Junior was now fourteen and in the throes of puberty. Over the last few months, I had felt his eyes studying me as I came and went in my more scandalous outfits. I was still sorting out how it made me feel to know that that knowledge not only sent certain naughty thrills through me, but that I seemed to be arousing my son as well.

Homework finished, each was off in their bedrooms or outside playing when their father arrived. Donnie hung around the kitchen while I worked on dinner, catching me up on his day. Finally, I brought up the news that I might be gone for several days. Donnie pursed his lips into a sour expression before replying, "Four days...overnight?" He shook his head. "Goddammit, Sonya -- this is getting out of hand. You need to stop -- we're caught up on things. You don't need to keep doing this."

I turned around from the counter where I was prepping a meatloaf. "We're ahead because I am doing this. You're barely working full time as it is and my old job is gone for good. You know I'm never giving this up and we can use that ten thousand bucks, Donnie. Tara starts college in the fall -- her scholarships cover some of it, but its still gonna be damned expensive."

Donnie got that look he gets when he knows I'm right, but despises himself for not being able to do anything about it. He got up from the kitchen table and got himself a beer from the fridge. He walked out without another word save a muttered, "Fucking whore," under his breath. Dinner was a tense situation with the Donnie morosely picking at his food, the younger kids oblivious and Tara looking on with some concern. After dinner was over, Tara dawdled behind to help clean up and to ask me if everything was alright.

I smiled at my daughter and shrugged my shoulders. "Your father is a bit pissed off at me because I may have to take a trip out of town for a few days."

Tara nodded, her concerned expression still evident. "This has to do with your...um, job, right?"

"Will you be alright, Mom? It's not anything dangerous is it?"

I leaned over with soapy hands and careful not to get her wet, gave her a hug. "Bless you, no...but thanks for asking. It's just a chance to make some extra money."

I tried not to show how much it excited me, but between wandering what kinky thing I might experience and feeling my daughter's maturing body pressing against mine, my pussy, its fires never totally banked, quivered with newly stoked desire. Tara seemed mollified by my comments and we finished up and went on about our business. Afterwards, she retired to her room to study and no doubt chat with friends on her cell phone or her computer. I settled down in the living room near the phone while Donnie began working his way through a six-pack of beer while watching the sports channel.

At eight-thirty, the phone rang and I had it off the hook after just one ring. "Hello?" I said, cursing the anxiousness or maybe eagerness in my voice.

"Hello, Sonya Hammonds? Gus Stockman here." His deep, rich voice alone sent orgasmic tremors though my body. "I understand you might be willing to commit a few days to me and my affairs?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Stockman. Anything you desire." Donnie glanced up broodingly from his fourth beer. He silently mouthed the word, "Slut."

"Wonderful, Sonya, but I think you should hear the situation before committing. Are you familiar with the term 'gang bang'?"

I let out a little moan as a spurt of pussy juice soaked my panties. I adored gang bangs. Not two months ago, I'd been the evening's entertainment at fraternity house party -- seven young men hiring me to service them all evening. I think I had been fucked over twenty times that night, not counting loads of cum I'd sucked from their willing dicks. "Very much so, Mr. Stockman."

He laughed and replied, "Well, Sonya, Joan and I are taking a weekend trip to Key West and I have a little bet with a friend that I need help with. How many men have you fucked at these gang bangs?"

"Um...between seven men, I think maybe twenty-two or twenty-three times," I replied.

"I want to be totally clear here, Sonya. The number involved in this competition would be considerably more...considerably more." There was a pause and then he asked, "Are you game, Sonya?"

Part of me wanted to ask how many more -- not because I was worried or scared, but because I wanted the savor the possibilities of what was to come. Just the words, "considerably more" had my pussy throbbing with anticipation. I licked my lips and swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry and replied, "I'm your girl, Mr. Stockman." Glancing around to make sure none of the kids were in the room, I said in a lower tone, "I'm your whore, Mr. Stockman."

He chuckled again and said. "I'm very, very pleased. Any questions?"

"Just tell me when and where, Mr. Stockman. Oh, and what should I wear?"

"We'll pick you up at noon tomorrow, Sonya. Just wear something simple -- you won't have it on long and perhaps some high heels." And then he hung up. I held onto the phone for a bit, shivers of erotic delight coursing through my body, ignoring my husband's evil stares.

That evening when we went to bed, Donnie pointedly turned his back to me, but I didn't mind -- I knew he'd want me afterwards. My mind couldn't dwell long on the strange evolution that my wedded sex life had taken (although even Donnie would have to confess -- we fucked now more than even when we were newlyweds). Images of being endlessly fucked coursed through my mind and I finger-fucked myself to orgasm as I pictured cock after cock -- practically swimming in an ocean of cum. As my hips bucked against my probing fingers, sugar walls clasping tightly to three fingers as I writhed with pleasure, my climax was somehow sweetened as I felt Donnie's eyes upon me, his expression of lust and disgust.

Friday morning passed by agonizingly slow. Donnie had left for work without a word, offering me only passing looks of contempt before he stormed out the door. Tara, on the other hand, listened patiently as I gave her instructions for dinner plans -- I always had several frozen casseroles on hand, as well as a shopping list and money for groceries and additional cash for eating out. It gave me a warm feeling to know that my daughter was willing and able to help me out.

When the limousine pulled up, I hurried down to where a burly driver held open a door for me, my heart pounding wildly. I carried a handbag with essentials and was wearing a simple black mini-skirt and three inch heels. I hadn't bothered with a bra or panties. I climbed into the limousine and found myself in a compartment that seemed larger than my own living room. Mr. Stockman, looking regal sat there with his daughter Joan curled up beside him. He looked as if he'd just come from a power luncheon, wearing a dark suit and blue tie.

Joan, his fiftyish daughter, was dressed more casually, a knee length sweater dress with a deep, square-cut neckline, exposing the upper halves of her considerable bosom. Her graying blonde hair was pinned up, exposing the long graceful line of her neck and her blue eyes shone with lust as she took me in.

We quickly sped away from my house after Mister Stockman pressed a button and speaking presumably to the driver, said, "Airport, James." He smiled at me and said, "The company jet is fueled up and ready to go...as I hope you are."

I nodded and replied, "I'm at your command, Mr. Stockman."

He laughed and said, "I like my whores to be so willing to please." He patted his daughter's exposed knee and said, "Help our Sonya get ready for her big adventure!"

Joan smiled and said, "Of course, Father." She uncurled from her seat and crossed over to sit next to me. She leaned into me, her breasts mashing into my bare arm and kissed me -- her tongue slipping between my lips to be greeted and touched by my own. A shiver of delight ran through me and I was mildly pleased to feel a similar shiver in Joan. She dropped a hand to my exposed thigh and quickly ran it up under my dress until I moaned as she wormed it between my inner thighs to palm my wet and aroused pussy.

Breaking the kiss, Joan turned to her father and said, "Already hot and juicy, Father. No panties." She turned back to me and said, "We like that. Now, off with the dress -- there'll be no more clothes for our little fuck slut until we come home."

Another delicious shiver rippled through me accompanied by a thread of doubt. Naked? We were heading to the airport and I would be boarding a plane naked? Still, a year's experience had taught me much and I did not protest -- instead murmuring, "Yes, Ma'am."

Joan smiled approvingly at my submissive tone and then lustily as my naked body was put on display -- my nipples hardening from both the cool air of the limo and from my arousal. She took my dress and carefully folded it up and opening up a compartment between seats, stored it. She then pulled out a strip of leather and my eyes widened as I saw it was studded with sparkling diamonds and then I recognized it for what it was -- a dog collar.

Joan nodded and said, "For the next few days, you're our little fuck bitch -- our fuck toy and we want everyone to be clear who owns you.." She placed it around my neck and locked it into place -- another shiver of pleasure swept through me and I moaned as my pussy began to spasm and I had a little orgasm on the spot and was unable to control myself as I squirted pussy juice, hearing it splatter on the carpeted floor of the limousine.

Mr. Stockman chuckled and said, "Why, I believe Sonya is pleased with you, dear."

Joan's hand slithered down between my legs again and I moaned happily as she caressed my aroused flesh with her index finger -- the long digit sliding slowly between my blossomed labia, fueling the wet fire between my thighs. She brought her hand up to display her cunt cream covered finger to me and then brushed her finger against my lips, making little noise of pleased pleasure as I sucked it clean. She brought her hand down to cup and caress my full breast, palm scraping over my swollen nipple. "Isn't she beautiful, Father?"

"Indeed, she is," Mr. Stockman replied. He looked out the window. "Ah, we're here, Joan. Finish getting Sonya ready, please."

I glanced out the window and was surprised to see us pulling up to a small jet plane like you see in the movies. My attention was called back to Joan as I felt her fumble with my collar and heard a metallic snap. I gasped as I realized that she was now holding a leash -- a leash attached to my collar. Another mini-orgasm rocked me and I again ejaculated pussy juice onto the limo floor. The driver opened the door and Mr. Stockman climbed out. Joan followed, tugging on the leash and with only a bit of stumbling, I climbed out, naked and aroused.

A few people prepping the plane for take-off paused to get a good look at the Stockman' new pet whore. A cold wind made me shiver -- gooseflesh popping up all over my quickly reddening skin. I could feel drops of cunt cream splatter on my thighs or making impossibly loud sounds as they dropped onto the tarmac.

I'm sure part of me was humiliated to be so brazenly put on display, but most of me was incredibly aroused. I'm proud of my body -- and it made me wet to see such interested expressions from the men who paused to appreciate my naked flesh. I stood there on display, making myself stand erect, thrusting my pelvis and breasts out -- my humiliation overridden by my own lustful pride. There was a part of me yearned to see these same men and those same expressions someday as they might recognize me as I shopped at the local grocery store or dining out in a local restaurant.

Then there was a tug on my collar and Joan sternly commanded, "Come on, my sweet little whore." She led me across the tarmac to where the jet awaited. I did my best to make her proud, strutting along like a sexy cougar, hips swinging and tits bouncing enticingly until we climbed up the ramp stairs and into the plane.

For what seemed a small jet from the outside, it was surprisingly spacious on the inside with a few rows of large comfortable seats and beyond it a lounge area with lush couches against the sides of the cabin and a small bar and refrigerator.

Joan commanded me to sit and belt in while we awaited take-off, taking a seat next to me. I meekly complied, feeling incredibly aroused at being under her domination. Mister Stockman boarded and immediately ordered the pilot to take off. I felt a little dizziness as the small jet roared into the sky, my ears popping as the cabin pressurized. As we climbed, Joan's right hand drifted over between my naked thighs, fingers finding their way into my wet, spread open flesh, so any nervousness I felt about flying was distracted as she teased my sodden pussy.

Finally, the pilot announced we could remove our belts and after pouring us all a drink, Mister Stockman guided us to the lounging area of the plane. He sat down across from me and said, "Well, now, Sonya -- I'm sure you're curious as to the details of your assignment?"

While Joan continued to sit next to me, her hand returning between my legs, I nodded and said, "Oh, yes sir! Just imagining has made me wet."

Mister Stockman gave a short amused laugh while his daughter murmured, "Beyond wet -- she is a virtual cunt swamp, Father." Joan looked up at her father, eyes shiny with lust and said, "While you explain things, may I have a taste? I've wondered for so long..."

Mister Stockman nodded and she lithely slid to her knees on the carpeted surface of the plane and in a husky and commanding whisper, said, "Open your thighs, Sonya -- allow my daughter to eat you."

With a moan, I spread my legs for her, finding it difficult to pay attention to her father as I felt first her hot breath and then her long tongue snaking through my twat. As Joan began licking me slowly, relishing my taste, Mister Stockman began to explain my mission. "Sonya, we are flying to Key West. There we will be meeting with an...associate of mine, Trey Granter." I recognized the name -- he and his home often popped up on those cable shows about the very rich and fabulous.

"For several years now, Trey and I have had an ongoing bet. Once a year, we meet in Key West -- each of us bringing a woman to compete in a gang-bang competition. The rules are straightforward -- she who can take the most loads of cum wins." I let out a long, drawn out moan, partly from Mr. Stockman' words and partly from Joan's tongue which was stirring around inside my pussy touching me in sweet spots that only another woman would know.

"I've lost the last four years and I don't like losing, Sonya," Mister Stockman said gravely. He leaned forward and grinned wolfishly at me. "I've had you in mind since the first time you sucked my cock, dear. Mr. Richards has kept me informed about your activities and I believe that you were born to win this competition. You've been told you will be paid a ten thousand dollar fee if you'd attempt this assignment. If you win, Sonya, I'll double the fee!'

I moaned again, again a mixture of the thought of having twenty-thousand dollars in hand and because Joan was lifting up my clitoris with her tongue and somehow probing the little shelf it rested on. A spasm of pleasure shot through me and the woman chuckled as I sprayed pussy juice over her face. "I'm...I'm your slut, Mr. Stockman. I would fuck the entire world for you!" I squirmed in my seat, my hands drifting up to play with my throbbing nipples as Joan ground her face against my slick cunt. "I'll be happy to start right now and fuck you first, Mr. Stockman!"

The older distinguished gentleman laughed and toasted me with his tumbler of Scotch. "I will be honored to taste your fine pussy someday, Sonya, but until the main event, there'll be no cock for you -- you'll need to save your strength." He licked his lips then as he watched his daughter's head bob up and down in my crotch. "However, I might join you and my daughter." He stood up and undid his trousers, stepping out of them with ease. His cock was large and erect and for a man his age, extremely vigorous looking. He knelt and lifted up his daughter's dress, revealing that she too was without panties.

Joan moaned into my pussy as her father ran his hand over her pussy and asscrack, betraying the fact that she too was very aroused and wet by the trails of cunt cream he created as his fingers slid up above her ass. I moaned as I was about to watch a father sink his cock into his daughter's cunt. He stroked his long cock and smiled at me as he maneuvered behind her and as he rammed it home, he said to me in a pleased and teasing tone, "Nothing like family...nothing like fucking a daughter. You have a daughter, don't you, Sonya? Nearly eighteen now...I wonder if she's a slut whore like her mother?"

I began to writhe as Joan's tongue ravished my pussy, Mister Stockman' words triggering an orgasm within me...my pleasure getting twisted up with all sorts of incestuous thoughts even as Joan's face slammed hard against my wide spread pussy, her father hammering his cock home -- thrusting brutally into his daughter's cunt.

Watching father and daughter fuck was too much for me -- my orgasm becoming a monster as I relished the vision of Mister Stockman and Joan engaged in such a taboo act. I heard Joan moan with lewd delight as I flooded her face with my creams, enflaming my pleasure as she lifted her face to show me my juices running off her lips and chin, her face contorted with the ecstasy her father's cock was providing.

"Fu-fuck me, Father. Love...love that big cock!" she sobbed as Mister Stockman' hand slid up her body, slipping hands under to cup her breasts, fingers yanking down the neckline of her dress, freeing her large breasts to hang like massive udders so he could squeeze and maul them at his leisure.

"I love you too, dear," her father said in those deep, stentorian tones, his very voice making me almost as wet as his daughter's ravenous tongue. He moved with the easy confidence of great experience and I shivered at the thought that these two had maybe been lovers longer than I'd been married...the intimacy of so many years making their lovemaking so wonderful.

I sobbed and writhed under the lash of Joan's tongue, my orgasm waxing and waning and then waxing again as I watched father and daughter fuck -- occasionally flashing on images of my Donnie taking our daughter, fucking her with the same intensity he'd shown when I'd teased him about her someday offering her body to others -- being the whore that her mother was. I was a bit horrified yet greatly turned on by the vivid fantasies that competed with the reality of watching -- no, participating in a bout of incestuous fucking.

Joan was sobbing helplessly against my pussy, unable to do more than let her father's thrusts push her face against my slick, dripping cunt, when he finally growled with triumph and rammed his cock deep within her and began to cum, rousing her from her orgasmic stupor to sob gleefully as he filled her womb with his seed.

Sweating profusely, Mister Stockman climbed to his feet, his still hard cock coated thickly with semen and his daughter's cunt cream. "Sonya, if you please," he said, walking around his daughter lying prostrate, panting and moaning against my pussy, to stand close enough to me that I could lean in and take him in my mouth.

I moaned approvingly as I sucked father and daughter's juices off his slowly shrinking cock, savoring the taste as I rolled my tongue lovingly over his flesh, staring up into his eyes, trying to convey my love of what I was doing. The elderly man smiled at me, his handsome features making me quiver and ache to know him completely, while he stroked my head and sighed, "Ah, my girl....you are truly born to this. You love this, don't you?"

I let him slip from between my lips, his semi-erect cock now clean and planted a small kiss on the tip before replying, "I love doing this for you, sir."

Joan moaned and began to move, letting herself fall to the carpeted flight deck and spreading her legs to show off her well fucked cunt, her father's sperm slowly leaking from her wide spread labia. "With your permission, sir," I said meekly, my hunger evident in my voice.

Mister Stockman nodded and gestured towards his daughter's prostrate body. I quickly went to my knees and pressed my face into Joan's cum filled cunt, moaning with pleasure as I lapped at her juices and her father's semen, lapping up large globs of his thick, tangy seed.

The air was quickly filled with the moans of the older woman as she writhed under my tongue -- perhaps not as experienced as hers in the ways of pleasing a woman, but eager and hungry and it was with great glee that I felt her convulse again and again as I licked her juicy flesh and swollen clitoris, making her orgasm over and over, before she went limp, barely conscious.

Mister Stockman sat back and beamed at us both, shaking his head when I reached for a towel to wipe his daughter's creams from my face. "You look lovely, Sonya."

Joan revived before we began to descend, putting herself in good order after licking and kissing my face in gratitude. "My greatest wish is to lick my father's semen from your sweet pussy," she whispered.

I kissed her softly, our tongues dancing and sharing her sweet creams, before I replied, "I dream of that day, Mistress."

The next twenty-four hours were a bit of a blur as I discovered that Key West has sensibilities unlike any place in the world to my knowledge. When we arrived in front of our hotel, a grand and ancient structure, I stepped from the Limo stark naked save for my high heels, my hair a bit askew from making love to Joan.. Mister Stockman led me across the pavement, taking his time to show off his leashed whore and looked please as I held my head up high and proud as he let me strut on the main street as tourists and onlookers hooted and whistled.

I marveled as we stood in the lobby that nobody blinked an eye at my nakedness, posing on the old marble floor before being led up the wide staircase to our suite of rooms. I felt so aroused at being so blatantly exposed and knew that many were eyeing my wet thighs, glistening with the heavily flowing cream from my pulsating cunt.

Time seemed to drag on until the next evening, when after resting most of the day, I was led down the street from our hotel to another antiquated building with a small sign that announced it was "The Club." I had drawn more than my fair share of hoots and whistles as Joan again led me stark naked down the sidewalk by the leash, making me move quickly enough that my breasts were bouncing along nicely and by the time we began our ascent up some old cast iron steps that begun just inside The Club's entrance, I had felt several men's and a few women's hands caress my breasts or butt cheeks or pinched or twisted my throbbing nipples.

It was hot and humid, becoming more so as we finished climbing three flights of steps and emerged onto the top floor of The Club. There was a huge crowd of people and I had to wonder for a moment if the floor could actually support them all. The entire top floor of the building was one big open room with four groupings of tiered theater seats facing inward to where two large reclining lounge chairs sat side by side -- perhaps ten feet between them.

Most of the seats were full of men and women of all ages and between the sections stood a multitude of naked men of all ages and sizes...young men scarcely beyond their teenage years, men who looked like they'd left sixty behind them and all ages in between. Some were muscular, some fat, some skinny as rails, White, Black, Hispanic and Asian.

As we entered, all gave up a cheer -- Mister Stockman and his daughter waving and smiling. I felt a wave of nervousness and shyness wash over me as I felt maybe a couple of hundred pairs of eyes roaming over my naked body. Despite any apprehension I felt, between my legs my juices were pouring out of my pussy and making my thighs glisten.

As we neared the center of the room, another group of people entered from another door. A man, perhaps twenty years younger than Mister Stockman approached in a cream white linen suit. He was wearing sunglasses that he pulled off to get a better look at me. On his arm was a very young Black woman as naked as I was. She had long, curly black hair tinged with red that fell down below her shoulders and was tall and slender with proud, upright breasts, capped with thin, long nipples. Between her legs, she was clean shaven, her long and luscious labia blossomed with arousal...arousal that was reflected in her dark eyes and in my own.

"Christ sakes, Stockman -- did you kidnap a soccer mom for this year's contest!" the man said as he approached, reaching out to take Mister Stockman' hand.

"It seems apropos, Trey, as you have appeared to have kidnapped a school girl," replied Mister Stockman. "Allow me to introduce Sonya Hammonds...a most skilled woman."

I took his hand when he offered his, feeling his eyes roaming lasciviously over my nakedness and judging from his smile, liking what he saw. "A pleasure, Mister Granter," I murmured softly.

"I'm sure the pleasure would be all mine, Sonya," he replied, bringing my hand to his lips which he kissed and gave the tiniest of licks. He held my hand as he continued to assess my lush body before turning to Mister Stockman and saying. "I may have misjudged, old man. I sense tremendous sensuality here."

"You have no idea, Trey," said Joan, sliding up beside me and undoing the leash.

The black woman inserted herself into the conversation, her full lips pouting as she said with an accent that reminded me of a vacation Donnie and I had taken down to New Orleans years ago, "What you think you see, Mon -- all I see is a big tittied old woman. I fuck her into the ground, Trey -- wait and see."

Mister Granter grimaced slightly and then shrugged as he said, "Forgive my manners, Gustav. Allow me to introduce Dominique Batillo. I have never met a woman with such an appetite for cock. She has an endurance that combined with her youth I believe you will find astounding."

Mister Stockman mirrored Granter's response and stepped forward and bowed to her, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentlemanly kiss. "I look forward to your performance, my dear."

Dominique smirked and said, "This be no contest, you know. Why you not bring me a real woman to compete instead of this tubby old whore."

Granter cleared his throat to catch her attention and with a slight jerk of her head forced her to withdraw. "Please excuse my girl, Sonya. She is but nineteen and full of herself. Of course, when one has such a fine, tight pussy as my Dominique does, one can get away with very poor manners."

I turned and smiled at her. "I understand, being a mother. I will look forward to this child eating her words when this is over."

"You'll eat my pussy first, old slut," she hissed at me.

"You should be so lucky, little girl," I shot back, my blood beginning to rise.

Mister Stockman held up a hand and chuckled. "Well, perhaps we should begin before this gangbang turns into a catfight." He nodded to Joan who steered me towards the nearest reclining lounger. In noticed high overhead was an electronic sign that blinked on as we approached, flashing a bright '0."

A middle aged woman, wearing heavy makeup with huge, meaty breasts nearly falling out of her skimpy silver dress, bleach blonde hair done up like Dolly Parton, strutted out to a place between the two loungers and raised a wireless microphone to her lips. "I'm Sandra Wellsley and as the owner and operator, I bid you welcome to THE CLUB!" she cried out. "Welcome to the fifteenth annual "FUCK-OFF OF THE SLUTS!" The crowd cheered wildly, sending a delicious thrill through me, beginning between my legs and exploding through the rest of my body.

"It's Mommy versus Missy as Sonya Hammonds vies with Dominique Batillo to see who can fuck and suck the most men." She glanced around to check that I was reclining in my lounger and then over at Dominique who had taken her place in the other lounger, her legs spread wide and fingering herself in front of the crowd. "Are the sluts ready?"

We both nodded and then the woman said, "Mister Stockman...Mister Granter -- do you claim the right?"

I heard Mister Stockman call out in his stentorian voice, "Absolutely," quickly joined by, "Aye...let's get this fuckfest rolling." I turned at Mister Stockman' voice and was shocked to see him in the last stages of disrobing, shucking his silk shorts to reveal an already erect cock...that long, thick penis I had enjoyed sucking several times already. A quick glance at my opponent revealed Trey Granter already naked and about to climb between Dominique's legs. His cock was long, but did not measure up to Mister Stockman' girth -- something I noted with more than a bit of self satisfied pleasure.

Sandra Wellsley licked her lips and said, "The rules are simple. She who fucks and sucks the most men wins the competition. It only counts if she swallows a load of sperm and has it deposited inside her. If either slut begs for someone to stop or refuses an offered cock, she forfeits! I am the solitary arbiter." She glanced again at Dominique and myself and when she received nods from us both, she grinned and said, "May the best slut win!"

I managed to see Trey scrabble atop his woman before Mister Stockman climbed between my legs, his cock, long and hard, jutting out from his gray pubic hairs. "I've been looking forward to this for some time, my dear."

I spread my legs wide, letting them hang off either side of the lounger, opening my pussy wide in anticipation.. "I've been dreaming of you fucking me, sir," I moaned in response. "Please fuck me with that fine looking cock!"

Moving like a man half his age, Mister Stockman eased up over my body, leaning down to kiss me as he brought his cock to press between my labia and as I shivered in anticipation, feeling a great wave of erotic heat washing over me, he shoved his cock into me. I was so wet and aroused, so anxious and hungry for cock, I took all of him in one swift, experienced stroke and as his large cock spread my inner flesh apart, filling me up with his dickmeat, I threw my head back and screamed as my first orgasm of the evening washed over me!

I felt so free and nasty -- fucking a man for money and even more, fucking him in front of hundreds of people, their cheers fueling the orgasmic fuel that burned through me as Mister Stockman began expertly thrusting into me!​