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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LABORS OF LOVE
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Chapter Nine
It was time for Chip to go to work. In the distance, through a
window, he saw the sun setting in the west. It was the land heÕd come
from and the land he hoped he could take a good, long vacation from.
Chip mused over the sign theyÕd hung on AlÕs shop. ÒCLOSED,Ó it read.
Nice, big letters that left no doubt. And, underneath, an explanation.
ÒGone FishinÕÓ Who could argue with that? But he knew thereÕd be
questions.
ÔWhat ever happened to good olÕ Al?Ó people would murmer.
Well, Al was fishing. He and Ginger had been honest about that. He
was, of course, fishing from the inside of a plastic bag, at the bottom of
the river, and being very generous with his bait, but why go into the
particulars?
There was a cough.
Chip looked at the man on the table next to him. He was a bit of a fly
in ChipÕs ointment, Chip thought. HeÕd shown up one day, like Chip, and he
apparently had some sort of legal problem, like Chip did. Chip didnÕt know
if the guy was a murderer, but whatever heÕd done he preferred to stay out
of sight at KimberÕs bordello. Out of sight, that is, to all but the paying
customers.
Chip figured he shouldnÕt complain. Ever since Chip had begun
working nights at the bordello as a Gigolo, wearing a mask and calling
himself ÔZorroÕ to hide his identity, the place had become increasingly
popular with the ladies. Women were coming from as far away as Japan
and New Zealand to see the wonderful man their friends had described to
them. So this new felon, this new convict and escapee from the law, or
whatever he was, served to cut ChipÕs workload in half. But still, Chip
mused, gazing at the man, heÕd liked this place better when it was just
himself, for Ginger now had two young men on her hands instead of just
one.
There was a sound of voices. Suddenly Kimber swept into the room
and behind her, Ginger. Kimber was lean and tall and she had a long,
beautiful mane of hair that kept getting into her eyes that she perpetually
was sweeping back. She advanced on Rick and stopped before his table and
gazed down at the young man. Rick was lying on a massage table, a white
sheet under his nude body. KimberÕs long hair became entangled around the
stiff erection he sported.
Ginger stopped beside Kimber, gazed down at the man with warm
eyes. Chip felt a spasm of jealousy shoot through him. Rick was lean and
tanned and had a hardened look about him, as if heÕd perhaps been in a
prison before coming here. He had dark hair and he wore a goatee on his
chin that made him look sinister, although he was in fact easy enough to
get along with. Yet Chip felt his muscles tense inside himself. They were
both equal, that was the problem. Chip lay on his table and tried to relax.
Of course, ÔrelaxÕ was a relative, word, for it was time to go to work. The
thought of a night of fucking still excited him, and his excitement
displayed itself in a fine erection. It rose up sturdy and strong from his
loins, eager for attention.
ÒWell, youÕve got a big job tonight,Ó Kimber laughed to Ginger. ÒI
just finished installing that nude oil wrestling pit in my new master
bedroom. IÕll be renting the room out to some ladies tonight from Japan.
First there will be a traditional Japanese tea ceremony, with Chip and
Rick serving the ladies. Then both of them will hop in the pit and wrestle
each other. It should be quite fun!
Ginger smiled. She had long flowing brown hair. She didnÕt wear it
in pigtails anymore. She was tanned golden brown, like Chip and Rick
were, from lying in the sun with them. She kept her bosoms carefully
covered to protect them from the sun and now, wearing just a teensy
bedroom bra, Chip could see the white areas of her bosoms where her
swimsuit bra normally covered them but her playful bedroom bra didnÕt.
He studied the twin cones of flesh. They were much larger than when heÕd
first met her. They had a fullness to them now, a heft and a weight that
made his mouth water. He let his eyes follow the cups of her little bra. It
was much too small for her, deliberately so, and it held back and contained
little more than her nipples, leaving all the rest of her breast flesh to
wobble tentatively in naked allure. Chip gazed at the tiny, thread-like
string that ran between her breasts, connecting the two tiny cups. He
wondered if it might snap, and leave her suddenly exposed.
All at once Rick lifted up a hand and touched it to GingerÕs bra, to
the string that connected her cups. She grinned down at him, the tints in
her sun-lightened hair looking gorgeous, her face round and sweet and
small. She had a fresh coat of glossy lipstick on her lips and just a touch
of eyeshadow around her eyes. She reached up a hand but it wasnÕt to bat
him away, as she most certainly would have done with Chip just a few
weeks earlier, when she was still little more than a 12-year-old brat.
Instead, Ginger simply brushed some hair back from her face, letting Rick
finger her bra as much as he wished.
Rick pulled on the string. The bra lifted, strained. Chip found
himself holding his breath, watching. Ginger looked down at herself. She
made no move to stop him. Slowly, with ever more cruel delight in his
eyes, Rick drew harder on the little string. All at once it popped. Ginger
shrieked. Kimber laughed. Chip felt a rage course through him, right up to
the tip of his hard erect penis.
GingerÕs breasts popped out of her ruined bra. The little cups,
separated, detached from each other, hung uselessly by the sides of her
glorious bosoms. GingerÕs nipples were stiff and pointy, ready for action.
Her bosoms were white cones of luscious vanilla flesh, looking like ice
cream waiting to cool the mouth of a sun-bronzed man. Rick placed a
finger on one of GingerÕs nipples and flicked it. Then he squeezed and
rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Ginger gave a gasp but did
nothing to stop him.
ÒYouÕve got to oil both these big men down for their nude wrestling
match,Ó Kimber said to Ginger. ÒAnd I want both you guys to behave, too,
okay?Ó she added. ÒIf necessary IÕll handcuff both of you. WeÕre under
some time pressure here. The ladies will be arriving shortly and I donÕt
want to find you three having some kind of personal celebration back here.
I need both you men to be all hard and ready for the women and I donÕt
want any sperm wasted on little Ginger here.Ó Kimber looked at Ginger.
She put a hand on the GirlÕs long flowing hair and brushed it back from her
eyes and her childish cheeks. ÒGinger, be good, okay? Get both these
hunks oiled up. I need them completely greased, like nude bronze warriors.
Everything, especially their cocks and balls, so they donÕt grab each
otherÕs equipment when theyÕre wrestling and angry and hurt each other.
But do them from head to toe, okay?Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Ginger said softly. Kimber bent and kissed her cheek and
then left the room.
Ginger fetched a big vat of grease from a nearby table. This was the
massage room, and there were bottles of baby oil and different varieties
of salves, some of them impregnated with special scents, all of them for
rubbing into the body. Chip watched her move as she walked and he saw
with tense delight that she was naked except for a miniscule pair of white
bedroom panties that were meant for sleeping in but that sheÕd chosen
instead to wear while she oiled up both of the men. The panties were
cottony-soft. They slipped in between the cheeks of her bottom as she
moved, and Ginger had to reach back and pull them out. She placed a vat of
grease on the table next to Rick.
ÒHi, Chip. IÕll be with you in a minute,Ó she smiled across the nude
figure of Rick at Chip. RickÕs penis was sticking up and it stood between
her and ChipÕs view of her, but Chip smiled, nodded. He wanted to kill Rick
like heÕd killed Al and he wanted to put Ginger over his knee and rip off her
panties and have his way with her, and a wicked revengeful way it was
too, but instead he just swallowed hard and controlled himself and smiled.
Lightly, like hands of an Egyptian slave-maiden, GingerÕs fingers
dipped into the big vat of grease and began to play over the Samson-like
body of Rick. Chip saw the man relax and settle back for the treatment.
She began with his belly, then moved up to his chest. She complained
about how the hair on his chest made it harder for her to get him properly
greased. But when he mentioned that some weightlifters shaved their
chests, and he could if she wished, she promptly rejected that thought.
ÒNo, I like you just as you are,Ó Ginger smiled down at him. It was a
warm, loving smile, and Chip knew she intended it to be nothing more than
the simple appreciation of a stable maiden, a slave girl, for her big
important beast that she was responsible for, but still he felt angry at
her. And at Rick, for otherwise heÕd have enjoyed her complete, undivided
attention.
Rick smiled. His black goatee moved with his smile and his dark
convict-like eyes watched Ginger as she worked. Then, for it was a big
job, his head gradually eased back again and he stared at the ceiling.
Ginger finished his chest and did both his arms. Then she moved down to
his thighs. She continued to grease him, moving her hands softly and
delicately over his stone-hard form. Suddenly Rick trembled. He lifted
his head again. Ginger smiled at him. Her hands were greasing his cock.
Rick smiled back, watched a moment. Chip saw the man shiver as her
lovely childlike hands played over his huge erection. She worked him
frankly, yet there was a warm loving touch in her fingers, and she began
stroking his balls, teasingly, not even greasing them but just teasing him,
perhaps to see if she could provoke him into spilling his load.
Rick coughed. Ginger gazed at him with mischeivous eyes.
ÒWell, it would make you nice and greasy but I guess youÕd be sticky
too, hmmm?Ó she asked.
ÒYeah,Ó Rick replied. Ginger pouted. She stopped her play and re-
greased her fingers in the vat and proceeded to coat his balls completely.
Chip rather wished sheÕd left them as they were, so he could grab them as
they wrestled and relieve the damn man of them once and for all.
ÒNow turn over,Ó Ginger said at last. Rick lifted himself up. His
huge stiff prick wobbled out in front of him as he turned, facing Chip,
giving him a quick smile, and then plopped down on his belly. Rick groaned
as his engorged cock became flattened and trapped underneath him. Ginger
smiled at his predicament. She slapped his bare ass. It was white, kept
clear of the sun despite their hours by the pool because both men were
required by Kimber to wear swimsuits. ÒNothing,Ó Kimber told them,
Òpleased a woman more than to see a manÕs ass all white, like a bunnyÕs
tail.Ó And since Kimber was able to earn extra money by hiring the menÕs
bottoms out to be whipped, it was very important that the women have a
nice white pair of buns to work with.
Ginger bent and kissed RickÕs bare ass. She knew that both men
would have their seats whipped again tonight, and return to her in the
morning with sore, whip-marked bottoms. Gently she kneaded the soft
athletic flesh of RickÕs buns. She kissed them again, bit playfully at a
hair growing up from RickÕs ass that tickled her nose.
ÒMy poor Rick, what did you do to be in a place such as this, working
your ass off every night?Ó Ginger inquired.
ÒCanÕt say,Ó Rick replied with a grunt. ÒEspecially since Silent Jim
there wonÕt say what he did,Ó Rick said, casting a quick glance at Chip.
Ruefully Ginger squeezed both RickÕs buns hard in her little hands.
Then she dipped them into the grease and began working the grease into
his tush.
ÒIÕm sure whatever bad thing Chip did is his business, isnÕt it,
Chip?Ó Ginger smiled. For the first time Chip felt a warm sense of shared
affection flow between himself and Ginger. She knew damn well what
heÕd done. SheÕd watched it.
ÒI just got tired of the priesthood, thatÕs all,Ó Chip replied
nonchalantly.
ÒToo many Hey Oh MaryÕs, eh?Ó Rick asked.
ÒYeah,Ó Chip replied. He wondered idly what a pass in football had to
do with Catholicism.
Eventually, working with a kind of warm languid gracefulness,
Ginger finished lubing up RickÕs powerful body. As a final touch she turned
him back over and squirted Baby Oil on him, especially his cock, which
throbbed delightfully as she squirted it. Next she moved to Chip. Bodly he
reached up and seized one of her breasts the minute she came to his table.
With Rick watching, Chip sucked hard at GingerÕs right breast. The girl,
who might have laughed a month ago, when theyÕd been alone, now scolded
him and waited for him to finish.
To show he had dominion of her, though, Chip suckled first at one
breast, then the other, all the while eyeing Rick out of the corner of his
eye. Let the man watch! See? She is mine! Chip thought to himself,
wishing he could bark it at Rick but not wanting to cause too much trouble.
Instead he took his anger out on GingerÕs 12-year-old teats, sucking them
hard, working each nipple with his tongue, as if he were a small baby,
instead of a full-grown 21-year-old man who had stolen her from her
parents.
ÒOh!Ó Ginger gasped. She tried to endure Chip, finally batted at his
face with her hands. Chip desisted. He lay back and gazed at her tits, now
wet with the saliva from his mouth. Ginger frowned at him, as if he might
have hurt her, sucking at her so hard. Then she dipped her fingers in the
grease and began to rub him down.
Somehow, Chip thought, his rubdown was more perfunctory than
RickÕs had been. GingerÕs hands worked less sensuously. TheyÕd been
lovers for some time now and she knew every inch of his hard muscled
body. She worked knowingly, not exploringly as she had with Rick. When
Chip moved, or grunted approval or distress, she already expected his
response. She oiled him thoroughly, however, and spared not an inch of
him from her prying, delving fingers, even sticking a fingertip into his
asshole.
ÒThere! YouÕre all done,Ó Ginger said at last. She picked up her vat
and left Chip, walked back to the table and replaced the vat there. Chip
watched her bottom, her alluring little white cotton panties. She wiped
her hands with a big moist rag, dried them on a hand towel, and then
reached behind herself and tugged her panties out of her bottomcrack.
ÒWell, are you men ready?Ó Kimber asked. She strode into the room
again, wearing a black spandex dress that molded itself to her curves. She
carried a riding crop. One of the brothel girls followed her in, went to the
table where the vat of grease was and took away the used towels.
Kimber inspected the men.
ÒGood job, Ginger,Ó she declared. She smiled at Ginger and Ginger
grinned back with a big 12-year-oldÕs grin, as if sheÕd been awarded a gold
star for her homework. Kimber slashed her crop against RickÕs thigh.
RickÕs breath caught in his throat.
ÒAlright, you two! I want both you big hunks to get off those tables.
Ginger here will wrap a half-sized bath towel around each of your
waists.Ó Kimber glanced at Ginger. ÒUse a safety pin, honey. I donÕt want
the towels popping off prematurely.Ó She looked again at the men,
watched as they both rose with groans from the comfort of the tables,
anticipating a long night.
ÒYouÕll both, I hope, have read up on how to serve Japanese tea
properly, hmmm?Ó Kimber asked the men. They stood and stretched. They
were completely naked, not even wearing slippers on their bare feet.
Their cocks stuck out lewdly in front of them.
ÒI looked at the book a little,Ó Rick said.
ÒGinger read a little of it to me,Ó Chip said.
ÒWell, no matter, if they wanted a perfectly served Japanese tea
ceremony theyÕd have stayed in Japan,Ó Kimber said. ÒThis will be the
Chigago Bulls version, or something similar, I suppose. But both of you
behave and do just as your told. No shenanigans! YouÕre both there as
servants of the ladies. TheyÕre paying me well.Ó She brushed back her
hair from her face. ÒAnd youÕll each get a little cut, to give you some
savings,Ó she added. Then Kimber inspected both men standing up, going
around behind them, admiring their bare white seats, all healed from their
previous whipping, at the hands of some women from Burma. She poked
each man in his ass crack with her crop, then came round in front of him
and lifted his dick up, using the loop at the end of her riding crop to hook
his big head and hoist up his shaft. She glanced underneath at his balls.
ÒGood,Ó she murmured. ÒI see you both kept yourselves under control
while Ginger oiled you. Good. Now hang on to that stuff, guys! No shooting
while you serve the tea, or while youÕre fighting each other in the ring.
ItÕs for the end of the party, okay? Then youÕll both need to don condoms
and fuck every woman in the room to her heartÕs content.Ó Kimber pushed
back her hair from her eyes, a fluid, graceful movement that caused her
whole upper body to bend briefly like a willow tree in the wind. She had a
long mane of rich brown hair and it was like a large thick rope, tumbling
down over her shoulders, down her back, spreading around her to capture
her arms from behind and spilling sometimes down her front. ÒAlso,Ó she
added. ÒRemember that when your towels are removed by the women
youÕre fair game. TheyÕll be armed with little whips and IÕm sure theyÕll
want to play them over your bare butts as you serve them their tea.
Hopefully you both read that Tea Ceremony book I gave you more than
youÕve let on, otherwise you might have very sore butts in the morning.
The Japanese Tea Ceremony is a strict ritual and any deviations in it will,
if the women desire, cost you a lash or two across your rear ends.Ó
Ginger laughed. She let out a big sigh. Her bosoms heaved with her
sigh and almost sprang free of the low-cut spandex dress that she wore.
ÒGod how I wish I could just take you two off to some Medieval castle
somewhere and have you both serve ME for the rest of my life!Ó she smiled.
She cast a quick glance at Ginger. ÒAnd weÕd execute her little ass,Ó she
grinned. Ginger bit her lip with surprise and bowed her head meekly. Her
brown hair swept in over the front of her body, touched itself against her
breasts.
ÒNow off with you two!Ó Kimber said. She whacked her crop lustily
against ChipÕs thigh.
ÒWait! Our towels!Ó Rick protested.
ÒOh, yeah,Ó Kimber said. ÒGinger honey, put both these men in little
towels so they arenÕt showing their penises to them the minute they walk
into the room.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó Ginger said softly. She picked up two towels left by the girl
whoÕd walked in with Kimber. Beside each was a safety pin, as if for
diapering a baby. With quiet steps Ginger approached Rick first, making
Chip jealous that he wasnÕt her first pick, though in fact Rick was
standing closer to her. Ginger let Kimber hold one of the towels for a
moment. Then she bent, wrapped the remaining towel she held around
Rick. His penis was stiff and throbby and she had to put up with it, trying
her best to get him properly covered despite the fact that his big thing
stuck up all bristly and uncontrollable. Ginger managed to pin the towel
around his waist, sighed, stepped back. She looked down at the job and
pouted a little. RickÕs big hard erection lifted the towel in front of him,
showing his balls.
ÒIf he wonÕt stay down I canÕt do any better than that!Ó Ginger told
Kimber.
ÒThatÕs fine, dear,Ó Kimber answered. To save time she herself
toweled Chip. The young man enjoyed feeling her hands pass around his
body. He liked the view her bending form offered of her bosoms. But he
felt angry, because little Ginger, his Ginger, that heÕd killed a man for, had
towelled Rick. A month ago he would have been in heaven, having both
females all to himself, he alone standing nude in the massage room, while
they pampered him, but now, with another man present, he felt depressed
and angry.
The two men met the women and served them tea and later, their
asses smarting from having lost their towels and been whipped, they both
clambored into a plastic-lined pit. Kimber appeared and handcuffed both
men so that their hands were restrained behind their backs. Then she
made them touch the heads of their penises together, like boxers touching
gloves before the start of a fight. After this, the wrestling match began.
Both men were deprived of the use of their hands, due to the leather-
sheathed metal handcuffs. They had to wrestle just using the bulk of their
bodies. They sweated and their breath came hard and they fought with
vigor. Chip was angry with Rick and, knowing that Ginger might be peeking
in, or most certainly in any event would hear about the result of their
match, he wanted to show he was the worthier suitor. Rick, on the other
hand, was increasingly in love with Ginger. He found himself wanting the
girl, though heÕd promised not to fuck her, to keep the peace, since he was
a newcomer, and Chip and Ginger had already been working at the brothel
when heÕd arrived, seeking a place to hide from the Law. Yet now, in the
oil-smeared ring, wrestling Chip, he very much wanted to win, or at least
to avoid the humiliation of losing. So it was that both men fought like
bulls, heaving and throwing themselves at each other, each trying to pin
the other down with the weight of his body for a ten second count. And all
the while their cocks were desperately engorged, in the way, sticking up.
The women had teased them with their fingers, and both men wanted to
cum. At the same time their cocks were vulnerable, in a way that their
arms or their thighs werenÕt, being sexual organs. So it was doubly
difficult for them as they fought, wanting to spurt, to ejaculate, and yet
sometimes suffering the anxiety and pain of having their cocks be so
vulnerably displayed as they fought one another.
Finally, to ChipÕs utter humiliation, he found himself pinned down
for a ten second count by Rick. He swore, he felt like biting his teeth into
RickÕs shoulder, but he didnÕt, for only girls resorted to tactics like that.
He knew too, as he lay exhausted and helpless underneath RickÕs panting
form, that heÕd lost his exclusive dominion of Ginger. Despite his noble
promises, Rick would have her now, one way or another, perhaps for five
minutes, perhaps for an hour. They would fuck, for she would be unable to
resist rewarding him for his victory.
It was well that both men still had a long night of duties to perform.
Kimber got them out of the pit and, sensing trouble, left them both
handcuffed. She put condoms on them herself. Then she told them to get
to work fucking the women. There were five women. The ladies, delicate
women from Japan, wished to have the men come in them every possible
way. They passed around among themselves little pills to prevent
themselves getting pregnant. They sipped them down with a last cup of
tea. Then, Chip glowering at Rick and Rick smirking back at him, the two
men were put to work. There was much giggling on the part of the women.
They were suddenly released from their traditional Japanese ways. Since
Chip and Rick were White, White Devils from the traditional Japanese
viewpoint, the women felt no hesitation in making lusty, if politely
phrased, demands of the men. After all, they were in America, land of the
free, and the men were stemming up freely and eagerly even, their cocks
uncontrollably hard. Kimber laughed and left the room, so the women
could feel more free still. She locked the door, leaving Chip and Rick
handcuffed.
In the morning Chip and Rick were so wiped out from their long night
of labor that they couldnÕt muster a cross word between them. Ginger
awoke from a pleasant nightÕs sleep and attended to them. They were
placed gently back on the tables where theyÕd been massaged. She got a
bucket and sponge and washed both of them down, wearing just her little
white bedroom panties. She consoled them and complimented them for
working so hard and massaged their muscles and their aching loins. Both
men fell asleep under her.
As the summer deepened into fall Ginger flowered and grew. Her
body became taller. Her bosom filled out even more, forcing her to give up
the sizes sheÕd been used to. She put forever into a bottom drawer in the
room she shared with Chip the little training bra sheÕd worn when they
first arrived at the brothel. Kimber brought her new clothes, new
underwear. GingerÕs hips swelled more and for a little while Chip feared
her belly might swell too. HeÕd resigned himself to her love of Rick, as
well as himself. Although he still shared a room with her, being her
boyfriend, she also sometimes slipped away to RickÕs room and slept with
him. She enjoyed having two stallions at her disposal. Chip let her have
her way. But having two men, she was being constantly impregnated by
both, and Chip made Rick promise that if she got pregnant heÕd split the
cost of the baby. Yet Ginger, despite being 12, somehow successfully
mangaged the little pills Kimber gave her, and did not wind up with a
swollen belly, though both men fucked her vigorously.
Sometimes, on weekends, when both men had been given time off by
Kimber, they would both spend the day fucking Ginger together. Usually it
would begin in the morning, if theyÕd been able to rest the night before.
Their rooms were close and both men would wake up with penises hard as
wood and little Ginger would be there, warm and soft and inquisitive. Rick
would hear Ginger and Chip kissing, or perhaps Ginger herself would hear
him walking by, to the toilet, and invite him in. Sometimes both men
would meet in the toilet and as they stood urinating together theyÕd decide
to fuck little Ginger. TheyÕd return to her bedroom together, Chip bringing
Rick along, and theyÕd wake her up and surprise her with their cocks.
SheÕd spend the day being forced into all sorts of perverted positions, but
despite her cries no one would interfere, not even Kimber, for everyone
know she was happy in her ordeal. And sometimes, when the men were
feeling especially wicked and lusty, theyÕd take her into the soundproofed
basement dungeon. SheÕd emerge welted and bruised and it would take
perhaps the rest of the weekend for the marks of their possession of her
to disappear. Yet sheÕd be smiling, despite the treatment, for they would
have pumped her as thoroughly as young men possibly could, giving their
all to her, emptying themselves into her tight little spaces until they
themselves ached from the effort.
One day late in the fall Ginger agreed to become a working girl at the
brothel. Christmas was approaching, and Kimber planned with her to have
her coming-out party scheduled for Christmas Eve. Chip and Rick wanted
to be present but Kimber convinced them that it must be GingerÕs own
party, something she did by herself. And Ginger agreed, feeling a sense of
maturity within her.
GingerÕs hair was done up specially on the day of the party. A
beautician was brought from town. The alarm over GingerÕs disappearance
from her home and family had long since passed away. Her parents were
consoled, or not; they suspected sheÕd gone away voluntarily with
someone, or not. Ginger didnÕt know. She wanted to write them a card but
she knew it would backfire somehow. She tried not to think about them
and it was not too hard, having two lusty men always keeping her company.
After her hair was done Ginger was made up, very carefully, for she
had a glowing natural beauty that didnÕt need much makeup. Yet it was the
ritual of being made-up that Kimber felt was important, so she had
another woman, who was an expert in makeup, spend an hour worrying over
GingerÕs face and touching up her naked breasts and putting a little rouge
between the lips of her pussy. Ginger sat bare on a chair, despite her
lovely done-up hair, for all of her would be seen at the party, and all of
her had to be absolutely perfect.
Her nails glittering, her eyes sparkling, her lips bright, Ginger
entered the room that evening reserved for the coming out party. She
travelled on the arm of a man, a man whoÕd just emerged with his wife
from a sitting room. Two couples walked with them. TheyÕd all come to
party together at the brothel. The women were in their late 20Õs, early
30Õs. The men ranged in age from early 30Õs to early 40Õs. They were
business men, working hard all year and looking forward to letting their
hair down and having some fun.
The men wore suits. The women were dressed uniquely, one in a
short party dress, a frock that stretched from her shoulders to the tops of
her legs. Another woman wore a bright-Christmas hued pair of slacks
with a matching blouse and a vest. The third wore a blouse, a small
unzipped jacket, and a short skirt. She also wore long knee-length boots,
while the other two women wore heels.
Ginger, playing hostess, being the centerpiece of their party, had her
hair pinned up and her face made up but she was topless. Her young tender
breasts bounced freely on her chest as she blushingly accompanied one of
the men into the party room. He carried her gallantly, his arm crossed
through hers, but Ginger had little doubt that heÕd prove less than entirely
chivalrous once theyÕd gotten started with their party. Despite being nude
from the waist up, Ginger had been permitted a pair of soft, striped pants
that flared at her ankles. They hugged her hips and she could feel her
excitement rising in her dell, moistening her, but she hadnÕt been allowed
any panties, and she hoped no one noticed when she sat down if there was
a small wet spot between her thighs. She walked barefoot, and she felt
the coolness of the brothelÕs tiled floor give way to a rich shag rug as the
group entered their private party room.
A Christmas tree twinkled with colored lights in the corner of the
room. There were twin candles standing on a mantlepiece above a
fireplace. The fire glowed sotftly, the room was heated and it was just a
decoration. The lighting in the room was muted and Ginger was freed by
the man who had brought her and she stepped quietly to the mantlepiece
and picked up a match and lit both of the candles. They glowed, giving her
face a soft, rich appearance as she turned back to face the guests. The
candlelight cast a highlight across her teats. Her nipples were red, the
conves of her bosoms white. The rest of her flesh had also lightened in
the winter months, as she spent less time outdoors by the pool. Ginger
smiled as the men gazed frankly at her bare breasts. Below them her
tummy was smooth and flat.
ÒHow do you keep from carrying a child, working here at the
brothel?Ó one of the women asked.
ÒI-- this is my first night as a brothel girl,Ó Ginger answered.
ÒOh,Ó the woman said, smiled. She looked at her husband. He
grinned. The men had been clued in beforehand to GingerÕs status, had been
carefully selected by Kimber and had paid extra for her. Kimber knew
theyÕd be gentle with her.
ÒCan I get you anything to drink?Ó Ginger asked. She padded into the
midst of the six, three sitting facing her, three sitting facing their
friends, a space between the two couches where the guests had arranged
themselves, the fireplace to the side. There was a small low table
between the two couches and upon it was an ice bucket. It contained
champagne and red wine. Six empty glasses stood waiting beside it.
ÒYou can, but first come here,Ó a woman said to Ginger. The girl
approached the woman, stood obediently before her. The womanÕs long
nails reached up. Carefully, watching as GingerÕs small flat belly moved
in and out underneath her bare ribs with her breathing, the woman undid
the snap on the front of GingerÕs pants. Then, working slowly, she undid
each of the snaps below it, opening the front of GingerÕs pants completely.
The pants were tight, they hugged her hips still, but GingerÕs bush was
revealed between the open front halves of her pants, the little feminine
fly.
ÒYou wear no panties?Ó the woman asked Ginger? She traced a
finger across GingerÕs belly.
ÒNo, maÕam,Ó Ginger answered. A shiver ran through her.
ÒAre you wet between your legs?Ó the woman asked. She thrust a
hand rudely between GingerÕs thighs. She felt up against the underside of
her pants, against her crotch, where her dell lay.
ÒA little,Ó Ginger admitted.
ÒYes, I can feel it, just a touch of moisture, but itÕs there,Ó the
woman said. ÒAre you excited about spending the evening with us, with
our husbands?Ó
ÒYes,Ó Ginger admitted.
ÒPour me a glass of champagne and bring it to me,Ó the woman told
Ginger.
ÒYes, maÕam,Ó Ginger answered. She went again to the table, bent
over it. She could not get the cork off the bottle and she was forced to
take it to a man and he popped it off. It fizzed, the man handed it back to
Ginger and some of the fizz flowed over her small hands as she took the
big bottle from him. She replaced it on the table and paused and wiped her
hands dry on a napkin. Then she filled a glass for the woman, took it to
her.
ÒThank you,Ó the woman said. She accepted the glass from Ginger.
Then the woman caught at GingerÕs thigh before she could turn away. She
held Ginger with Ginger standing as she had before, when sheÕd been
unzipped. Her flat belly moved slightly as she breathed, her breasts,
naked, rose and fell on her chest. The woman delicately pulled open
GingerÕs unzipped pants and poured the champagne glass down her belly
into her bush.
ÒOh!Ó Ginger shrieked. The champagne was ice-cold and it hit her
warm belly like winter snow. She tried to retreat but the woman held her,
poured the champagne into her pants and over them and all down the front
of them, for the pants hugged Ginger tightly, not like a manÕs pants, and
there was no place for the champagne to go except to flow all down the
front of her, and spill from between her legs to the floor.
ÒThere, now my husband doesnÕt have to look at that little wet spot
between your legs when you sit down,Ó the woman told Ginger. She
slapped GingerÕs thigh. ÒGet about serving the rest of us, girl! Then come
and sit on my lap.Ó
ÒYes maÕam,Ó Ginger gulped. She turned away from the woman.
Hurriedly she filled the other glasses. The men leered at her tightly-
hugged bottom in her pants as she filled up the glasses and then hurried
around to see that everyone was served. Occasionally Ginger would have
to pause to pull up her pants as they sagged on her waist, for despite being
tight they were unzipped in front, and she wasnÕt permitted to zip them
back up again.
When Ginger had served everyone she returned to the woman who
wore the small unzipped jacket and the miniskirt and the long, knee-
length boots. This time, instead of pouring champagne on GingerÕs belly,
the woman invited her onto her lap. Ginger sat. She had no choice. She
was there to serve them and to attend to their needs. The woman made
Ginger sit facing away from her and then, after taking a sip of her
champagne, she reached around in front of Ginger.
ÒDrink, darling, you forgot to serve yourself,Ó the woman said to
Ginger. Ginger could smell the womanÕs perfume. It was a pleasant
fragrance, although she would have preferred to be occupying the lap of
the womanÕs husband, or of one of the other men. But then those men each
had a prominent bulge sticking up in their laps, and Ginger, considering,
decided she was safer on the lap of a woman.
Ginger sipped at the glass the woman proferred. Then, just as she
was settling comfortably, and hoping for perhaps some polite
conversation, the woman tipped the glass over one of her nipples and
poured champagne upon it.
ÒOh!Ó Ginger declared. She was forced to watch as the woman
passed the glass to her other breast and wet its nipple in turn. The
champagne was cold, despite being tasty, and it stung her nipples.
Ginger tried to smile politely at the other guests. They stared at
her, at her soft cupid-like face, at her pert young breasts. The woman in
whose lap she sat reached a hand between her legs. Roughly she made
Ginger part her thighs and she massaged GingerÕs dell through the thin
fabric of her pants. She lifted a finger and tugged at the pussy hair that
wisped out through the front of GingerÕs undone fly. Finally she thrust a
hard, sharp-nailed finger within GingerÕs pants and sought down and
between GingerÕs legs and stabbed at GingerÕs wet slit.
ÒOh! Please!Ó Ginger yelped. Her breasts heaved nakedly on her
chest. She twisted her head round, trying to address the woman, her hair
still done up perfectly, her makeup still flawless, even as her belly
glowed wetly with champagne and her breasts stood forth like twin
suckled teats, wet by the mouth of some baby.
ÒYes, my dear, and we must get these pants off you, to better see
you,Ó the woman said. As Ginger stared down at her lap the woman forced
her to wriggle her hips and the pants were drawn down GingerÕs long
girlishly lean thighs, over her knees, and finally down her slender calves
to ring her ankles.
ÒGet up. Serve me more champagne. YouÕve used it all up!Ó the
woman told Ginger. The 12-year-old rose, attempted to kick off her pants.
ÒNo! Leave them. Learn to walk in them that way. And step lightly, so
that they do not come off inadvertently,Ó the woman ordered. She gave
Ginger a slap on her bare bottom. Ginger winced, did as she was told.
Stepping gingerly, she meekly refilled the womanÕs glass at the table and
brought it again to her.
The woman made Ginger hold the glass as she reached round behind
Ginger and seized her by her bottom. She forced apart GingerÕs ass cheeks,
making Ginger blush as the interior of her bottomcrack was revealed to
the guests behind her.
ÒBend forward,Ó the woman told Ginger. ÒNow!Ó Fearfully, almost
spilling her glass of champagne on the woman, Ginger leaned forward. She
felt herself showing her puckered bottomhole to the guests behind her and
flushed a bright hue of red. ÒStand still!Ó the woman ordered her. She felt
GingerÕs bottomcheeks, squeezing them, lifting them with her palms.
ÒHave you been penetrated anally?Ó the woman asked.
ÒNo,Ó Ginger lied. She knew it was the answer the woman wanted to
hear. And, in addition, she felt embarrassed being asked about her
experience. She was only 12. Let the woman think she was an anal virgin.
ÒAnd how about your pussy?Ó the woman asked her.
ÒYes,Ó Ginger answered truthfully.
ÒAt 12?!Ó the woman asked.
Ginger gulped. ÒYes,Ó she said sheepishly.
ÒMy God, kids today! Get your bottom over my lap! What will become
of you young people?Ó she declared. And so Ginger, still balancing the
womanÕs champagne glass in her hand, somehow managed to get herself
bottomup over the womanÕs slender knees, with the smell of her leather
boots in her nose as she found her face hanging down toward the floor.
A light set of fingers came to her bottom. ÒGinger, IÕm going to have
to spank you for being so careless and losing your cherry,Ó the woman told
her.
Ginger gulped. ÒYesÕm,Ó Ginger agreeed.
ÒDonÕt spill the champagne,Ó the woman warned her.
And then, just like that, the woman slapped her bottom. Ginger cried
out and she wondered if any of the guests partying in the other rooms
could hear, could listen in as the sound of the womanÕs hand struck her
bare bottom and she was forced to utter a screamy reply.
SLAP! Again the woman struck her. Ginger yelped a second time,
almost lost the champagne glass in her hand.
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The woman smacked her again and again, and
Ginger felt the champagne in the glass she was clutching slosh out over
her tight-gripping fingers. She howled at the pain and yet, even as she
felt hurt in her bottom, wishing the spanking would stop, she relished
being the center of attention. It reminded her of the long days when Chip
and Rick would possess her, and for hours on end she would have no control
over herself, wouldnÕt even be able to think, as they ravished her. Now,
here, under the womanÕs hand, she knew she was freed of all decisions,
had only to obey. They would decide, the men and the women, they would
tell her how to behave and how to serve them and all she had to do was
listen, and perform, and all the while as she performed they would admire
her and remark to themselve on how pretty she was.
Ginger felt tears wet her cheeks and her bottom felt raw. She could
feel her moist excitement between her legs and she knew that, between
the three men, she would be given royal treatment, despite being a slave,
or rather, perhaps, because she was a slave, and like some overworked
Christmas elf she would be tasked with many duties, all in this little
room, with the twinkling Christmas tree in the corner, in front of the
glowing fire.
ÒOooh! Ooooh! Ooooh!Ó Ginger complained.
ÒOh, isnÕt she lovely?Ó a woman sitting across from her asked her
friend. Together the two women began to slowly undress, watching as
Ginger was spanked, inspired by her sacrifice.
The woman with the boots finished spanking Ginger. She made her
get up from her lap. Ginger stood. Immediately her one free hand flew
back to her bottom and she rubbed it disconsolately.
ÒOooooh, that hurt!Ó Ginger reported.
ÒOf course it dear, did. Now what happened to my champagne? You
seem to have spilled it all,Ó the woman told her, taking the glass from her.
It was mostly empty. The jarring smacks had spilled most of it on the
floor. The woman glanced over her knees at the rug. ÒYouÕve been bad,Ó
the woman said to Ginger.
ÒOh, get undressed, youÕre turning into a witch,Ó one of the women
sitting across from her laughed. Ginger turned, looked at the woman. She
sat naked beside her husband, her nude breasts hanging free, her hips soft
and curved and sitting easily in their nakedness on the couch. Across from
her husband her friend was also nude. The men were clothed still,
enjoying the show, despite the discomfort they must have been feeling
from the erections that bulged up from their crotches.
ÒBring your little bottom over here, dear,Ó the woman beckoned.
Ginger put a finger to her mouth, considered, decided she was better off
with any woman other than the one whoÕd just spanked her. As she began
to walk she almost tripped over the pants still caught around her ankles.
ÒWalk carefully,Ó the woman admonished. Ginger, her coiffure starting to
come undone, clasping her bottom protectively, walked over to the woman.
ÒHere, have a cookie,Ó the woman said to Ginger. Her friend had
taken a plate of them from the table and she had passed them across to
her, and the woman, taking a bite first from the cookie herself, then
offered the rest to Ginger. Ginger opened her mouth and accepted,
standing before the woman. She did not reach with her hands for it for she
didnÕt really want to eat a cookie the woman had already taken a bite out
of, but the woman pressed it to her lips and Ginger, keeping her hands
securely over her flaming bottom, which bulged out behind her, ate the
entire rest of the cookie.
ÒVery good,Ó the woman complimented her. ÒNow turn around and let
me see that little bottom of yours. Does it hurt?Ó
ÒYES!Ó Ginger frankly admitted. She turned about for the woman and
offered her ass to her, tentatively, worried the woman might strike it.
Instead the woman put a finger to it and lightly stroked it across GingerÕs
cheeks.
ÒOooh!Ó Ginger protested. She didnÕt like having her bottom touched.
The cheeks were red and sore after the spanking. They tensed in protest.
But the woman kept touching and stroking her, and finally, as if asking
permission, the woman leaned forward and blew lightly into GingerÕs
bottomcrack. Then she spread GingerÕs cheeks apart with her long-nailed
fingers and, having the interior of the crack now much better displayed,
she blew into it again.
ÒOoooh! YouÕre blowing right into my HOLE!Ó Ginger squeaked. She
reached back to push the woman away but the womanÕs hands held her
firmly and she was forced, in the end, to rub her hands uselessly against
her thighs. The woman blew into her bottomcrack again.
ÒYeek! Stop that!Ó Ginger begged.
ÒYou must take much more than my breath in your little hole
tonight,Ó the woman advised her. ÒBye bye, cherry!Ó She blew into
GingerÕs hole again. Why, Ginger mused, was everyone so obsessed with
taking her anally? First Chip, and now this woman seemed to hold her
little shit hole as some kind of glorious prize, to be sought after and
pierced with the greatest glee, as if it might contain a million dollars
inside it. The woman leaned forward and licked around GingerÕs hole.
Ginger shrieked, stood on tiptoe.
ÒQuiet, girl. I must get you lubed for my husbandÕs penis,Ó the
woman told her frankly. She licked Ginger again and Ginger bounced on her
toes, her feet barefoot on the rug, her pants still banded around her small
tapered ankles.
ÒNoooo! Please!Ó Ginger begged. She felt her coiffure coming apart,
reached up, grabbed at it with her hands, even as the woman continued to
assail her bottomhole. GingerÕs naked breasts shook on her chest and she
knew it was quite useless to protest, yet she couldnÕt help it, for what
would you do if some woman was sticking her tongue up your ass? And if
you knew, besides that, that there was something much bigger going in
afterward, no matter how much you might prefer that it not?
Ginger, even as she struggled to repair her coiffure, heard the other
woman on the couch invite the men to unzip themselves. Ginger heard a
sound then of zippers being undone. Across from her, the booted woman
removed all her clothes except for her long black boots.
ÒNow letÕs have some fun,Ó the woman behind Ginger announced,
removing her tongue from her butthole. Beside Ginger, the man and woman
whoÕd been sitting on the couch stood up. Ginger was suddenly turned by
the woman behind her and tossed down on the warm couch where the
couple had been sitting. As Ginger plopped down on her belly, the man,
standing, immediately crouched over her and held her down, his hands
pressing hard into her back.
ÒYes, lovely, get something to put on his dick. SheÕll be tight!Ó the
woman who had orally inspected Ginger announced. She stood up, poured
herself some champagne. As she watched Ginger being held down she wet
her tongue in the glass and then wiped it on a napkin, to remove the traces
of GingerÕs anal juices from it.
The other nude woman, fetching a jar of lubricant from the mantle
between the candles, walked over to the couch where Ginger lay trapped.
As the man held her down his wife oiled up his cock for him. Then, forcing
GingerÕs legs apart, he knelt on the couch between them. Ginger struggled
underneath him. She did not want to be fucked up her ass by some
stranger, some man she didnÕt even know. She was more alert now to her
bottomhole than sheÕd been that first night, months ago, when sheÕd
heedlessly given away her tight little cherry-hole in the grope room. She
knew what a small and private place it was, and how it only opened up
properly in an intimate setting, with a man she knew and loved and cared
about. Yet, in this room, she was a mere paid-for trollop, and she
realized, as the man stabbed at her tight small bottom with his big prick,
tha the night was going to be quite a challenge.
ÒOpen to me, bitch!Ó the man breathed hotly into her ear. She felt an
enormous pressure against the aperature of her bottom. She screamed. A
womanÕs hand came to her mouth. It balled itself into a tight, small fist
and inserted itself between her teeth.
ÒOoook!Ó Ginger cried out. The womanÕs hand in her mouth muffled
her protest. The pressure in GingerÕs ass increased. She felt something
like a wet, well-lubricated hotdog pressing into her, one of the big
knockwurst hotdogs she saw at the mall that were too big for her to eat.
Now one of them pressed at her backside, demandingly, and it was alive,
throbbing, and she knew if it could get itself up inside her it would spurt
awful goo up into her that sheÕd still be shitting out in the morning.
ÒEeek! Noooo!Ó Ginger protested with wild screams. But they only
encouraged the man. Lustily he mounted her and forced his way into her
ass. Ginger felt suddenly all the air being driven from her. Her stiff-
nippled bare teats ground into the cushions of the sofa. She bucked at him,
trying to throw him off. But he was inside her already and her rearward
shoves with her small little bottom only served to embed him deeper
inside her.
ÒGoook! Noooo!Ó Ginger yelped and pleaded, trying to breathe, the
womanÕs fist in her mouth. She tossed her head wildly to and fro and felt
her coiffure come completely undone. Her lovely hair that the beautician
had worked so long to pin up so prettily fell down around her eyes and her
cheeks. The woman with the hand in GingerÕs mouth forced her fist in
deeper, pushing GingerÕs head up and back, making her neck strain, making
her whole body arch back and into the man who was fucking her. He thrust
hard, he got himself fully up in her. Ginger wailed. He began to move in
and out of her like a dog in heat. She bumped her hips back, he stabbed
forward. She wriggled, he caught at her hips with his hands and demanded
she wiggle in time with his thrusts. Together, then, she underneath,
trapped, he above, master, she began to obey him and move with him.
ÒSheÕs quite a little exert for a virgin,Ó a woman mused, watching.
ÒShe protests like a virgin, but she how she moves now, how she
accepts him,Ó the other woman agreed.
ÒAh, what a delight!Ó the man within Ginger groaned. ÒImagine me at
my age, having a virgin 12-year-old!Ó His two female companions looked
at each other.
ÒA 12-year-old with the moves of an 18-year-old, IÕd say,Ó one
woman murmured to the other, but she didnÕt say it loudly, only moving her
lips, for she didnÕt want her husband to hear.
Ginger, who felt absolutely full and feared the man might split her
apart, ruin her, nonetheless bravely now shoved her ass back at him,
embedding him more deeply in her, accepting his need for pleasure. He
thrust himself hard inside her, yet not so hard as to injure her, but stiffly
and demandingly enough to let her know he could hurt her if he wished.
That it was entirely in his power now, that she was his slave. Ginger
accepted, her mouth stuffed with the fist of the manÕs wife, her eyes
shedding tears. Together they worked to acheive his fulfillment. At last,
crowing with the climax of his venture, he spurted hotly into her. Their
wet coupling became wet and gooey. Ginger felt his hot sperm rush into
her bowles and she knew when she returned to Chip in the morning sheÕd
have a remant of this man in her, and she would have to douche herself to
get herself clean and free of his seed.
But there was no time for that now. The man rose, the next
appeared. He wished to spend in GingerÕs mouth and she was promptly
rolled over the women helping, so that she lay babylike staring up at him.
Her tummy was warm and her breasts were heaving. She was briefly free
of the womanÕs fist and she drew in big gulps of air. Her breasts rolled on
her chest and she felt the jism of the previous man trickle out of her
bottomhole and stain the couch underneath her. Her bottom lay sore upon
the fabric, still hurting from her spanking.
Ginger reached up, tried to block the second man as he kneed his way
onto her. He wanted her mouth. The woman who had held Ginger before
now reached for her mouth again, this time not with a fist but with prying
fingers. She split GingerÕs 12-year-old lips apart and Ginger felt the man
slide his huge cock in over her wiggling tongue.
ÒNo! Nooooop!Ó She protested, but it was lost, for the man was in
her mouth. Happily he began to work his hips. Each of his thrusts pushed
him deeper into her mouth, into her throat. Ginger gagged, coughed. He
laughed. He settled his hairy ass on her bare white breasts. They were
squashed down by his weight and forced to serve as pillows for his behind.
The man humped her. He humped her mouth, lewdly, rude with his
thing and uncaring whether Ginger could even breathe. Her eyes grew large
and she had to suck air in as best she could through her small perky nose.
The man reached down, pinched her nose with his fingers.
ÒSuck!Ó he ordered. ÒYou are not doing your part. Do not resist me.Ó
Ginger, her eyes like saucers, began sucking on him like a Tootsie-Pop. He
relaxed his hold on her nose and let her breathe again. But he kept his
fingers against her nose, lingering there, threatening her lest she fail to
perform as he wished.
Ginger prayed that the man would cum. She could barely get her
mouth around his big thing but she sucked it for all she was worth. She
began to bob her head up and down, lifting it up from the couch, and the
woman whoÕd opened her lips helped her, catching her head in her hands
and lifting it up and drawing it down for her.
ÒAhhh! Yes!Ó the man in GingerÕs mouth crowed. She felt his
buttocks sweating and the sweat from his ass wet her breasts. She was
just a thing to him, a creature, living and not inflated, for him to thrust
his big bad penis into and receive satisfaction from.
Suddenly a police siren sounded out on the road. Blanching, the man
yanked himself from GingerÕs lips, hurting her teeth as his big flanged
head popped out. In a panic of sexual fright and desire, he spurted all over
her face. Big generous drops splattered GingerÕs cheeks and fell hotly into
her eyes and got all over her mouth and lips. The siren died. It passed
away down the road, a faraway sound, disappearing into the night.
ÒHa! Ha! They have the wrong man tonight!Ó the rude man above
Ginger crowed. His wife slapped his bare ass and told him to get up off
her.
A respite ensued. Ginger was let up and she sat huddled on the
couch. They brought her wine, forced her to drink it. The women sat down
beside her and petted her and caressed her. The men bragged to each other
about her tightness, about her youthfulness and her virginity. One more
remained, his cock rock hard, yearning. The booted woman stroked him to
console him as Ginger was given a rest.
As she recovered, Ginger once again enjoyed her place as the center
of attention. She eyed the man sitting across from her and his cock. She
remained demure, tried not to think about what lay ahead. She had no idea
whether heÕd be nice to her, and have her in her pussy, or whether heÕd be
mean and insist on entering her sore bottom, or playing suffocation games
with her mouth. The booted woman eyed her possessively. She knew, if
left to themselves, the woman would have happily had her over her lap
again, spanking GingerÕs bottom, perhaps with something more definite
than her hand. Ginger wiggled her ass on the couch, feeling the bare raw
skin. It was a little better now, a little less sore. Perhaps all the sperm
the first man had pumped into her ass had helped it a little, she mused.
She was glad for the other people. She wasnÕt in a mood to be whipped by
the booted woman.
When everyone had been refreshed by wine the party resumed. It was
a delicious sight, the women with their breasts hanging free, their nipples
stiff with desire. They were tanned like Ginger and their tan lines
contrasted with their skin, though they were not deeply tanned, as perhaps
they had been in summer, but only lightly tanned, lying out in the Nevada
sun on days when it wasnÕt too cool. Their bottoms glowed white in the
light cast from the fireplace, their limbs were like smooth gently-hued
copper. The men were dark, rugged. Hair grew on their chests and on their
legs and in the cracks of their bare asses. They sported lewdly displayed
testicle sacs, hanging down between their legs, no pants or underpants or
even jock straps to hide the sight. Their cocks slowly grew toward
rigidity and the cock of the man who had yet to enjoy an ejactulation
stood erect and stiff. His balls were tight, eager to spend.
Ginger tasted sperm in her mouth, soothed by the wine. She knew
she had it sloshing around in her belly and it was quite gooily all up the
inside of her ass, dribbling out whenever she moved or changed her
position. The women laid her back on the couch and ran their fingers
through her long brown hair, comforting her, making her ready. They made
her open her slender thighs, show them her dell. One woman, suddenly,
dipped her face down within GingerÕs opened thighs and licked at her
snatch.
ÒOh!Ó Ginger cried. The other woman, sitting behind her head, petted
her face.
ÒShe must wet you, dear,Ó she said. Ginger felt quite wet already
but it didnÕt stop the woman between her thighs. Her tongue delved into
her, penis-like, stabbing, searching. When at last she rose wet-cheeked
from between GingerÕs legs Ginger reached for her, for she was on the
verge of spending. But instead the man came, the third man. In place of
the womanÕs soft seeking tongue his cock now stabbed into her. Ginger
cried out, wanted the tongue instead, the man was too big! But he thrust
into her and she was made to accept him.
As the man worked himself in Ginger, and she began to respond,
bucking her hips up at him, lifting her soft well-spanked bottom from the
couch, receiving him, the woman at her head got up and drifted around
behind the chair arm. One of the men took hold of her. He forced her to
bend over the arm of the sofa and Ginger found the womanÕs lips upon her
own. They kissed. Ginger accepted the womanÕs tongue in her mouth,
reluctantly, then passionately, as the men in both of them worked them to
fever pitch. In the distance, for what reason Ginger didnÕt know, the
booted woman put the remaining man over her legs and gave him a loud
spanking.
The bodies worked. Kisses were exchanged, loins met in fevered
anticipation of their coming crisis. Ginger felt herself used and utterly
violated, but her cunny buzzed with desire and her nipples perked hard into
the grasping hands of the man who rode her. The woman above her mouth
kissed her deeply, gasped her breath into GingerÕs face as she was fucked
by the man behind her. All about the room one could smell the heat of the
bodies. There were sounds, sucking sounds, of the joined loins pushing and
pulling together.
Although sheÕd professed concern for the carpet the booted woman
did not seem to mind the impending danger of the man over her lap. His
cock was wedged down between her legs. Every time her hand splatted
down across his behind he shafted between her thighs, threatening to
spill. Ginger, her face turning once in their direction, saw his thing
sticking down, wondered at it, wondered if the woman would scold him if
he came.
Ginger climaxed. The woman above her climaxed. Almost at the
same time, the man came in Ginger, hotly, wildly. Her hips shoved up at
him, straining at him even as he strained within her. Then, gradually, the
four shuddered to completion. They kissed and petted and licked at each
other. Their simmering loins gradually cooled.
All was done, complete. They told Ginger they wished to be alone
now, with each other, wives with husbands. Her job was complete. Ginger
composed herself, feeling behind herself, the rubberiness of her spanked
cheeks, the sperm dripping out of her bottom. She sipped a final glass of
wine, standing up, brushing her hair back from her eyes. Across from her
she saw the mess the man over the booted womanÕs lap had made in the
carpet. She looked at it, at the man, back at it again. He sat happily on
the couch now. The booted woman sat with her legs open, showing her
dell, the manÕs cum on the floor between her polished leather bootheels.
The woman said nothing, Ginger did not ask why the man had been allowed
to spill himself on the carpet.
ÒBye, dear,Ó Ginger was told at the door, a woman escorting her out.
The woman waved. It was a small, cupped-hand wave, intimate. But
Ginger, expecting a goodbye-kiss, was not kissed. The door closed in her
face.
Aimlessly Ginger walked down the hall. She was nude, her hair a
mess. Her makeup, so carefully applied, was ruined. Her bottom hurt and
her breasts were sore. She was spermy between her legs and it dripped
out of her bottom, leaving a trail behind her on the hallway floor tiles.
Despite the wine she could still taste sperm on her lips and in her mouth
and down the inside of her throat. She was sperm girl. SheÕd been
spermed.
Ginger trotted down the stairs to the basement. Her breasts bounced
as she hit each new step. She slipped into the room that she and Chip
shared. She climbed wearily into their bed. She hated to stain the sheets
with other menÕs sperm but she was too tired to go take a bath. She
reached across to the nightstand, picked up a lollipop. She unwrapped it.
It was cherry. She popped it in her mouth and happily sucked at it. It felt
small after the big penis that had been in her mouth. She hoped the cherry
flavor would kill the taste of the manÕs sperm. She settled back onto the
pillow. Before she knew it she was asleep.
30
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