FantasySex.Com!

                            hit, thought Timmy, and double shit. He had
                            arrived on time, early in fact, but the elevator
                            has gotten stuck between floors. Again. He
                            was now waiting for old Charlie, the night
watchman to free him from this ridiculous predicament.

"Come on, Charlie," he said out loud. "You lazy fuck, where are you? I ain't got all night, you dumb shit. Move your ass, dummo!"

"Hold your fucking horses, sonny! And your fucking tongue! Or I'll leave your raggedy ass in there 'til Monday morning and you can just go and piss and crap in your socks!" It was old Charlie.

"Sorry, Charlie," Timmy said. "But I'm late for studio 2."

"Then you don't have a problem, kiddo. They have you down as guy number nine. You got plenty of time. True, the old gal has already finished off the first guy and by now she's probably polished off dude number two and has number three halfway home. From what I heard, she gives such great head, the rest will drop like flies!" Charlie giggled.

Timmy knew old Charlie loved to watch the scenarios and probably beat his pud at the same time, too. And, now and then, when an old guy was called for, old Charlie didn't hesitate to volunteer his services. He protested that he only did it for the extra cash, but no one believed that bullshit. Christ, Charlie would actually drool when fucking some young girl who was living out her fantasy of screwing an old fart. Charlie had fucked one young girl so hard, for so long, she couldn't walk right away and had to be helped out to her car by her boyfriend. Covered in old Charlie's sweat.

And, if truth be told, and film never lies, old Charlie had a thick, seven inch plus weapon that he knew how to put to good use. Strictly for the cash, of course.

Timmy thanked Charlie for rescuing him and the two of them walked the short distance to studio 2. The On Air sign was lit up signifying that video was now being shot. Charlie used his magnetic keycard to open the door and stepped aside to let Timmy enter first.

Charlie was right. The old gal had polished off guy number two and was working to beat the band on guy number three. He could see her bright, ruby red lips through the 4" hole in the plywood board that had been propped up against an open closet. They were wrapped around a thickset penis at the moment and were illuminated by the red "cathouse" light bulb on her side of the board.

Timmy could hear slurping and sucking noises coming out of her. The moans she let out also told him she was really into it and thoroughly enjoying herself as she sucked away.

The cameraman was down on his knees getting a close up of the glory hole; obviously taking a shot that was tight in on cock and lips. Hubby, Timmy thought, should love that one.

Guy's numbers one and two were the only ones with their pants on. They had to wait until the scenario was fully over, just in case there were camera problems. All the other men were naked from the waist down, with only their socks on, and in various stages of getting hard. All were playing with their cocks and balls in anticipation of their turn at batting practice.

The smell of male sex, of male musk, permeated the studio. And, for inspiration, three different fuck films were playing, their sound muted, on three individual DVD sets.

Timmy shed his pants and underwear and, despite of, and under Charlie's gaze, started playing with his penis. He might be ninth, but it paid to plan ahead. One never knew if the guys in front of him might not be struck down by some unheard of heart attack epidemic and he'd be pressed into urgent service. If he was to be the one to save the day, he didn't want to be caught short, so to speak.

As he stroked his fat piece of manhood and felt it swelling up, he noticed a large drop of precum on the tip. Shit, he thought, I got a lot of it in me! Charlie, ever vigilant, handed him a moist towlette. He had no sooner wiped the tip than another glob popped out. Hell, he was just oozing and bleeding cum!

"Geez, kid," Charlie said, his eyes opened wide than usual. "You've got some big bat there! And it's leaking something fierce!"

"Yeah, Charlie, it was a gift from my parents."

Charlie sniggered and said, "Well, kid, too bad they couldn't find one that didn't drip so much!" He laughed. Timmy chose to ignore this witticism.

Guy number three started moaning and sounded as if he was close to unloading his spunk. Timmy could see the guy clearly under the studio lights as he moved his hips in and out and mouth fucked the ruby red lips.

Then the guy yelled, "Oh, yeah, here it comes, Momma! Get ready for a fucking throat bath!" The guy jerked his hips spasmodically as he shot his wad. Timmy could hear gurgling sounds coming from behind the wooden board as the woman swallowed the guy's plentiful bursts of cum. The guy had spasmed so violently it looked as if he was trying to fuck the plywood board. Or falling in love with it.

As the guy turned, Timmy could see cum still dripping from the guy's cockhead and falling silently onto the tile floor. Charlie saw it too and wasted no time. He went over to where the cum glistened on the tiles and, using a handiwipe, adroitly mopped it up. Good old Charlie. Always Johnny on the spot.

When he rejoined Timmy, Charlie said, "Can't have no one slipping on that shit now, can we?" He was a real dedicated team player, that old Charlie. Always watching out for the company.

Timmy and Charlie watched as five more men, one after the other, put their large, hardened pricks through the hole and blew their nut's weeks worth into the red lips and very eager mouth.

And she sure knew how to suck cock. From Timmy's angle, he could see her deep-throating each one of the men. And, to prevent them from merely shooting their loads down her gullet, the woman would, as each guy yelled he was going to cum, scoot her lips back to where only the head was in her mouth. She must really love the taste, Timmy thought.

Remarks were heard throughout. It was part of the overall script. They were ordered to make the old gal feel very appreciated by some ad-libbing.

"Man, she's one fantastic cocksucker!"

"Oh, yeah, she gives a great blowjob! Best I've ever had!"

"Did she deep-throat you, too?"

"Yeah, and I gave her a gallon of hot cum!"

Funny, Timmy thought, these guys don't sound as if they're ad-libbing.

Finally, it was Timmy's turn. Watching the films and watching the hole with the red lips had had its effect on him. He was raring to go. Christ, precum had formed on his dick at least a half dozen times already. He wiped his cock tip with the towlette one last time and headed toward the board.

As he walked, his foot-long prick proudly displayed and wobbling in the air, he heard one of the guys whisper loudly, "Wow! There ain't no way she's gonna deep-throat that fucking monster!"

Timmy didn't think so, either. No woman, to date, had been able to take more than the head and maybe an inch beyond. The one woman who had dared to go past that "no-woman's land" point had upchucked an entire Chinese meal in his lap. Surely, no old woman was going to be the first, no matter how good Charlie or the guys said she was. Life, Timmy thought, just don't work like that.

Timmy placed his full, and now very rigid, 12" erection through the hole. He heard her gasp and whisper from the other side, "Holy cow, is that thing for real?"

Timmy chose not to answer. He just stood there waiting to be sucked off by Mrs. Red Lips. He didn't have to wait long. She started by reaching through the hole and pulling his huge balls into it. Then she was fondling his humongous prick with both hands. Then she pulled on it, poked it, prodded it, licked precum off the tip, until, finally, he felt her wet, hot mouth around his cockhead. It felt fantastic to him.

He was surprised that she had no trouble taking his huge width to a point a few inches past the ridge. Past the "no woman's land." That was indeed a first. What a mouth on this broad, he thought.

She probably had at least six inches in her mouth and some had to be down her throat. He was amazed at it all. And feverishly turned on by it. So much so that he felt the tip of his dick twitch, tingle, and leak more precum juice.

Then she really surprised him. She took him all the way down to where only two inches remained between her lips and his pubic hair. She had ten inches of his unbelievably wide cock in her mouth and down her throat. He couldn't believe it.

Timmy looked down. He could see the red lips greatly stretched around his huge prick. The sight of it made him even hotter. He could also hear her heavy breathing.

He slowly moved in closer, pressing his groin into the hole. Then, she did it! He felt the lips move forward, slowly, quarter inch by quarter inch, until he could feel her nose press against his belly. Then, she pressed forward even further until not only had her lips reached his pubic hairs, she was actually pressing them into his groin. It was unreal.

He turned his head to the right and screamed, over his shoulder, "Man, oh man, she's got it all, right down to my nutsack!" There was a short burst of applause by the group of onlookers. Then, a sudden hush.

She then started working his cock like a pro, perhaps even better. She varied the pressure, varied the speed, and varied her tongue movements, giving him the best cocksucking he'd ever had in his entire young life.

She'd work the head, then deep-throat him. Plunge! Right down on it. Then she would scoot back up to the head and lavish it with a tongue and lip bath. Then, bam! Right down to the fur again.

It was unreal and unbelievable to him. He started mouth fucking her, slowly, timing it to agree with her head movements. They soon had a good rhythm going. She was being mouth-fucked by the biggest prick she'd ever seen and the greatest cocksucker he'd ever known was sucking him off. Mouth and cock. Cock and mouth. He didn't know where he began and she left off. All he could hear was her moaning and slurping noises as she sucked him and drove him to a level of pleasure he had never ever experienced.

He found himself moaning out loud, too. The hush remained over the studio as the men just stared, mesmerized, at the lewd and lascivious scene taking place mere feet from their eyes. Timmy glanced to the side and saw the cameraman coming in for a supreme close up. The guy looked shell-shocked, his mouth agape.

Mrs. Red Lips worked his dick for another few minutes or so and then Timmy was ready. He tried to fight it, to hold it back, to prolong the exquisite pleasure, the wonderful sensations, but he knew it was hopeless. He knew the end was near when he felt his cockhead start to swell up. Trying to reverse it now was impossible.

Thus, with a yell, he let the dam burst. "Ooohwee! Oooh-fucking-wee!" A week's worth of cum just poured out of him, spurt after spurt after spurt. It came from his balls, but it felt to him as if it was pouring out of his very soul. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He heard her, on the other side, struggling to swallow his copious deluge.

She gulped audibly each time she swallowed. He would fill her mouth and then refill it, again and again. Four times in all. With her gurgles and gulps, and frequent moans, adding to his overall pleasure.

Finally, he was finished. She continued to suck his cock, vacuuming him, moaning as she did, and getting every last drop as if it was the most precious liquid in the world. Then, as she took her lips off of his deflating prick, he heard her whisper, "Thank you, young man, that was unbelievable! I came four times just sucking your magnificent prick and swallowing . . . oooh, make that five times!" Timmy giggled.

Fully drained, he staggered back a few feet. He turned to the other men, glassy eyed, and whispered, "Did you guys see that? She took it all! What a fucking blowjob she gives! Man, I wanna marry the bitch!" The guys laughed. Old Charlie laughed.

Now, being on staff, unlike the other guys, Timmy could have left the scene right then and there, had he chose. But he wanted to get a look-see at the only woman to ever take his entire coke-bottle-size dick completely down her throat. So, he put on his shorts and pants and went over to join old Charlie.

Charlie just stared at him and looked as if he was in shock.

"Holy shit, Timmy," Charlie mumbled. "That was one helluva show! I ain't ever seen anything like it . . . well, 'cept that little woman in Puerto Rico who swallowed a donkey's seventeen inch pecker . . . but that old donkey was a lot thinner than your fat salami."

Timmy laughed and said, "Charlie, this old broad can suck my cock any time she want to! Anytime at all!"

Charlie laughed and said, "Guess that's why you�re hangin' around, eh? Looking to set up a rematch?"

Timmy didn't answer. He simply grinned at old Charlie.

The two of them just stood there and watched as the last three guys got their rocks off. However, after Timmy's fantastic episode, it all seemed anticlimactic. Yawn.

After guy number twelve had unloaded his sizeable wad into the talented red lips, all the guys stayed around instead of splitting, which would have been more usual. They also wanted to get a look at the spectacular and unbelievable salami swallower.

As the cameraman closed up shop and departed, still looking dazed, Timmy went over and removed the plywood board. There she was, red lips and all, head bowed downward, still kneeling, as if not sure she was done, with cum dangling from her chin and from her bright ruby red lips. As she ran a hand through her hair, Timmy could see cum stains on the chest of her silk blouse. It was obvious that some parts of the loads, as large as they were, had escaped her lips. Understandable, he thought.

All the guys, old Charlie included, stood up and broke out in a deafening applause. She bowed her head down further and smiled, gracefully accepting the standing ovation. Then, she raised her head and looked up toward Timmy.

When the moment of recognition hit them both, Timmy could have been knocked over with the proverbial feather.

"M-m-mom!" was all he could manage to hoarsely squeak out.

"Timmy! Oh, dear me!" was all she could say as a deafening roar of laughter filled studio 2 all the way to the rafters. The group of men, seeing the look of anger on Timmy's face, quickly hushed it up. No point in angering a staff guy, was there?

Old Charlie was the first, the only one who dared, to break the pregnant silence.

As Charlie handed the woman a moist towlette to wipe the cum from her face, he said, gleefully, "Timmy? If your mother needs a lift home, I'd be only too glad to take her!"

Timmy turned and looked at old Charlie. Charlie was grinning from ear to ear. Timmy scowled at Charlie, but then, suddenly, his face changed. He now smiled at the old black man. Shit, he thought, why am I getting pissed? So my mom sucked a bunch of dudes and me off. So fucking what? Who was he to judge? She had obviously enjoyed herself. He sure had. The guys had, too. Why shouldn't old Charlie get a shot?

"Why not?" Timmy said lightly. "If it's okay with mom, it's okay with me. Charlie, I'd like you to meet my mom, Martha." He turned toward her. "Mom, say hello to Charlie."

She and old Charlie said their respective and very polite hellos. Lordy, Timmy thought, you'd think they were at a formal cocktail party instead of a completed glory hole scenario.

Martha eyed the old black man up and down and no one there could miss her extra long glance at the very large bulge now clearly visible in old Charlie's chino workpants.

"Why not?" she said cheerfully. "After this surprise, I could sure use me a nightcap!"

Then, she turned to Timmy. "Would you call your father and tell him I'm bringing a . . . colorful . . . , " She winked at old Charlie, " . . . surprise home! And tell him to warm up the camcorder! OK, Timothy?"

"Sure, mom. Oh, before I forget, don't forget to take this tape. It's yours now, you know. Of course, you might want me to have it edited to take me, uh, us, out of it. Don't want to upset dad, you know, and maybe give him a heart attack."

"No need, Timothy. Your father will understand the mistake. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, he's very broadminded. After all, it was his idea that I, uh, do a bunch of men from behind a glory hole to fulfill a fantasy of mine."

Timmy nodded. "OK, mom, whatever you say." He still felt a tad strange.

                         immy's mother and old Charlie walked out arm
                         in arm with Charlie grinning like a black
                         Cheshire cat. Timmy turned to the rest of the
                         men and said, "What the fuck you guys looking at? Don't you know it's quitting time? Get out of here, before I start kicking ass and taking names."

The guys left in a hurry. A while later, Timmy followed, his phone call to dad completed. He dowsed the studio lights, as was the rule for last one out.

As Timmy stood outside the door to studio 2, he had weird thoughts and pictures coursing through his brain. He couldn't get the vision of those ruby red lips sucking off all those cocks, his included, out of his head. And, her moans! Her audible swallowing! Her hot, wet mouth deep-throating him, swallowing his cum. Brrr, he thought, that's way too vivid!

Shit, it was mom after all, wasn't it? Mom, for crissakes! And what, he wondered, was she going to be doing with old black Charlie later on tonight? He could picture those red lips on Charlie's black 7" plus cock. Gulping down old Charlie's cum. He could also picture, also way too vividly, old Charlie, old Charlie for crissakes, fucking her like a dog in heat. Drooling and sweating all over her as he banged her into the mattress until she had trouble walking and needed help just to go the bathroom.

And what about dad, dear old dad? What would he be doing while Charlie was being sucked off by mom? Probably running the camera! Too many possibilities flooded his head. He had seen too many scenarios on film where he worked, so nothing really surprised him, but now he felt he had just a tad more information than he wanted to have about the folks. The fact that they had human needs and desires might have placated him, but it hadn't yet. Perhaps, he thought, in time.

But he didn't want to think about the future now, not really, but he sure as shit had had the best deep-throat blowjob of his entire life. And, because even a president had once said that oral sex wasn't really sex at all, and most of the world had agreed, what would mom think if . . . and they had the board between them . . . or . . . he pushed the lewd thoughts out of his head. Tomorrow would take care of itself. As he walked toward the elevator he knew he'd have trouble sleeping tonight.

And worse than that, he thought, it would be all over the fucking office tomorrow! How his mommy had swallowed her baby boy's big salami . . . along with his wee-wee squirt-squirt! Along with eleven other guy's wee-wee squirt-squirts! Lordy, lordy. He could see it coming! This was, he thought, truly the time that tries men's souls.

Shit, he thought, maybe I should just up and quit and go live in a cave somewhere. He even thought of breaking into Wade's office and stealing the automatically sent backup copy of tonight's episode off of Wade's computer, but he knew a further backup copy of the tape was also now on Wade's home PC. And who knew where else? Damn backups! Who's stupid idea had it been originally, anyway?

Then, he thought, fuck 'em! Fuck 'em all! This is the year 2030 after all and weirder shit than this was now commonplace. And it was an honest mistake, wasn't it? With that thought in mind he headed for home and promised himself not to think about old Charlie, or mom, or dear, old dad, for at least the rest of the night. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

If it was at all possible, that is, not to think about it. Somehow Timmy didn't think it was, for even as he stepped onto the elevator, he felt his baby boy salami stirring, brought to life by the image of those ruby red lips. They kept floating around in his head. He sighed
and pressed the lobby button. Tomorrow would take care of itself. As dreadful as it promised to be.

He could hear Wade now . . . damn it!

Studio 2 was now back to being an empty, darkened space once more.
All ready for the next FantasySex.Com scenario, whatever that was to be and whoever was to be in it. Studio 2 didn't care who they were or what they did, or even if they were blood kin.

And Studio 2 certainly didn't care about tomorrow. Or today, either, for that matter . . .

The End.
"From my mind, to your mind!"