TITLE    : Have Pussy, Will Travel
STORYID  : have-pussy-will-travel
SUMMARY  : An applicant auditions for her dream job.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2010-05-19
CATEGORY : erotic-couplings
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |ass|asshole|buttocks|call girl|prostitution|audition|travel|


"Ms. Johnson, Mr. Drake will see you now; follow me, please."



A gorgeous redhead set aside the magazine she'd been reading, rose, and strolled down one of the hallways that opened off of the room in which she, along with the other women, had been waiting to have her name called.



Half way down the hall, her escort stopped. The woman who'd called the redhead's name knocked on a closed door. A moment later, having been invited to do so by the room's occupant, she opened the door, and the redhead entered, closing the door behind her.



The brunette who'd led Ms. Johnson to the office returned to the waiting room, taking her seat behind the large desk on which her computer monitor, telephones, intercom, and other secretarial supplies and equipment were stationed. The brass nameplate on her desk identified her as "Marilyn. Holliday, Administrative Assistant."



The waiting room was like many others in which Sharon Cade had waited for job interviews. (Not "job," she reminded herself, but "career." She'd answered the help wanted ad in her local newspaper only because it had promised "not a job, but a career, opportunity" that could pay as much as a million dollars a year and, to qualify, one need not have graduated from college; hiring would be based solely upon applicant's performance at auditions.) The large room was tastefully, even elegantly, furnished, with thick wall-to-wall carpeting, pastel floral wallpaper, a chandelier, and several oil paintings--not prints, but originals--in ornate frames. Deep, overstuffed couches lined the walls, and there were armchairs interspersed among the coffee tables and end tables. A wide assortment of magazines was available.



From the looks of the place, one would never suspect such an office to be associated with a call girl operation. Even the company's name, Executive Services, gave nothing away as to the true nature of the enterprise's business. Like the ten other young women who sat poised on the edges of their chairs or couches, each as beautiful and sexy as Sharon herself, Sharon had inferred the actual nature of the services that the business offered its clientele from hints dropped in a preliminary interview, prior to her having been invited to audition. After several such clues had been provided as to the nature of the company's true services, her interviewer, a woman named Jessica Lane, had stated bluntly, "Executive Services isn't really involved in the travel and tourism trade, Ms. Cade. Can you tell me what services we really do provide?" "Prostitution," Sharon had answered. Although the interviewer had corrected her, claiming that the company offered "call girl services, not prostitution," she had recommended Sharon for the series of auditions for which Sharon and the other applicants for the position (described in the ad as "hostess") had come to try out.



Sharon was an altogether lovely woman. Just three years ago, at eighteen, she'd graced the pages of one of the nation's premiere men's magazine. Unfortunately, her appearance hadn't produced the break she'd been seeking when she'd doffed her clothes for the camera, which is why she'd answered the ad for a million-dollar-a-year "hostess" position at Executive Services.



Her competition was stiff, though, she had to admit. Whether blonde like herself, brunette, or redhead, the other applicants were also drop-dead gorgeous. Sharon wasn't unduly concerned, though, for Ms. Lane, in interviewing her, had assured her that the position would be offered to the "most qualified" applicant, not just to "the girl with the biggest tits." When it came to sex, Sharon wasn't merely good; she was fantastic. She was confident that she could land the position. In a year or two, she could be a millionaire, possibly several times over.



An hour later, Marilyn again rose from her chair, and called, "Ms. Cade, Mr. Drake will see you now; follow me, please."



Excitement lanced Sharon's heart, and she breathed a silent prayer, asking the favor of heaven in helping her to land the job--position! she corrected herself, position!--as Executive Services' latest "hostess."



* * * The First Audition * * *



The man named Drake (he'd offered no last name) was naked when Sharon entered the room. He was seated in an overstuffed, brass-studded armchair covered with burgundy leather. At his feet, there was a thick rubber mat. The chamber was otherwise empty.



He was a handsome man, Sharon thought: dark, curly hair; nice-looking features; broad shoulders; a deep chest; tight, six-pack abs; powerful thighs. His cock was erect. Circumcised, it was, she judged, at least eight inches in length. Thick and rigid, it stood upright, against his belly.



"You're Sharon Cade?" he asked.



She smiled. "Yes, sir."



"You're here to audition?"



She nodded. "Yes, sir."



"You've been apprised as to what the audition entails?"



Her smile faltered for just a moment as she recalled the directions she'd been given. "I have, sir."



He motioned for her to approach him, and she stepped forward, stopping before him when he held up his hand. 



"Remove your clothes," he said.



As she removed her clothes, she felt, as well as saw, his eyes travel slowly down her body, as he admired her firm, high, round breasts; her concave tummy; the hairless cleft of her pink sex; and her shapely legs.



"Turn around," he ordered.



She pirouetted, offering him a view of her splendid backside. After several moments, during which he studied her sleek cheeks, pleased by their firm, full, rotund shapes, he told her, "You may begin."



She knelt between his parted thighs, on the rubber mat at his feet, and caressed his big balls through the silk-soft, tight flesh of his contracted scrotum. Gathering the purse containing Drake's egg-shaped family jewels in her hand, she squeezed his testicles gently, yet firmly, in her tightening fist and shook them playfully.



The muscular man in the armchair moaned softly, closing his eyes and letting his head loll against the plush chair's headrest. That was a good sign, Sharon told herself, signifying his enjoyment. She wasn't certain, but it seemed that he was harder, too, and longer.



Smiling, she gripped the clump of his balls in one hand, drawing her loose fist lightly up, along the shaft of his erection, and she felt him tremble. He groaned, his head turning left and right upon the headrest. When her hand reached the top of his shaft, she closed her fist more tightly about the thick organ, getting a chokehold, so to speak, on Drake's rigid member. She pumped her hand up and down, vigorously, holding fast to the bloated shaft, and, this time, Drake squirmed.



She released his cock long enough to hold her palm over its purpling glans while touching the shaft with her fingertips, so that her hand formed a shape like an umbrella. She lowered and raised her cupped palm, letting her fingertips push and pull the tight skin up and down upon the straining shaft of his cock. Drake shifted in his seat, sliding his bare buttocks back across the leather upholstery, further aroused. His scrotum was red, instead of pink, as was his cock, the tip of which was a deep, ripe plum color.



Sharon reversed her hand, turning it 180 degrees. Gripping his cock, she yanked his prick up and down, hard, several times, causing Drake to grunt. He opened his eyes, surprised at the intensity of her actions, but closed them again, immediately, the better to focus, she suspected, upon the sensations that her touch caused him to experience.



Over the years, Sharon had learned a lot about masturbating guys. At home she'd masturbated both her father and her brothers (although separately, without any of them knowing she provided the same service for the others), and she'd avoided sucking dates' uncircumcised cocks (a real turnoff, as far as she was concerned) more than once by substituting a hand job. Men were easy, really. The main thing was to tease them, bringing them near orgasm again and again, before, finally, letting them climax and shoot their loads.



When a man ejaculated after being teased in such a manner, she'd found, they always seemed to come longer and in greater quantities than they did if they were brought swiftly to their points of no return. She needed the position for which she'd applied. It would pay handsomely, making her wealthy beyond her dreams in only a few years, and it would take her to far, exotic places in the company of the rich and famous. To be offered the position, though, she'd have to do well at each of five auditions, beginning with this one, which meant, at the moment, pleasuring Drake.



Most women were merely perfunctory in masturbating men, Sharon knew. They weren't really interested in holding, kissing, squeezing, and kneading a man's genitals the way Sharon had learned to do--and to love doing. In sexual matters, most women hadn't grown up in households in which their fathers and their brothers were also their teachers. To become good at masturbating men, a woman had to jerk off a lot of cocks and, equally as importantly, she had to love her work.



There was a bit of the feminine in every man, Sharon knew. Some guys would rather die than admit that they were "tainted" in such a way, as if femininity were a disease of some kind. Nevertheless, it was true. Even the most ripped, buff men--men like Drake--had female hormones in their bodies, just as the most demure and submissive woman had testosterone in her system, thanks to the pituitary gland. It was all merely a matter of how much of the opposite sex's hormones a man or a woman harbored. Sharon liked men, but she had to admit that their sex would be improved, in her opinion, if they had a little more estrogen and a lot less testosterone in their systems.



Curling all of the fingers of her right hand back except the forefinger and the middle finger, Sharon poked these digits into Drake's scrotum, between the ovals of his balls. She lifted her hand, jabbing the stiff fingers down, into the deep valley between his testicles, finger-fucking his scrotum as if it were a cunt. Drake squirmed on his chair, opening his eyes again to check out the action. His cock stiffened, swelling and thickening before Sharon's bemused gaze.



It was obvious that he liked the strange sensations that her odd technique produced--or, perhaps, she thought, his enjoyment of being finger-fucked had more to do with psychological than physiological matters. Maybe Drake, despite his ruggedly handsome, virile appearance, was more in touch with his feminine side than most men were whom Sharon had known. The clear drop of pre-cum, or Cowper's fluid, that glistened at the tip of the purple crown of Drake's cock certainly suggested that he was enjoying being treated like a woman.



Perhaps, he was enjoying the technique too much, Sharon decided. Not wanting to lose him to orgasm so soon, she abandoned the technique in favor of adopting another masturbatory method, one she'd learned from her Uncle Thaddeus. Working his cock with her left hand, instead of her right, this time--switching hands could make it feel to man as if another, second person were masturbating him--she used her right hand to massage the root of his cock, which rose from behind his balls, along his perineum.



Although the bulb was not quite as sensitive as the external length of a man's cock, (the shaft, the frenulum, and the glans), it was plenty sensitive enough, and the unexpectedness of her massaging this "hidden" part of his sex was often exciting enough in itself to make a guy cum. Drake grunted, gasped, and moaned as her fingers lightly pinched, kneaded, pressed, and stroked the cylindrical bulge between his thighs. As she rubbed him here, she occasionally spanked his balls lightly, enough to distress, without harming, him.



However, she didn't give him time to get used to this approach any more than she'd given him time to become bored with any other technique. Holding the base of his cock in one hand, she masturbated him, fast and furiously, with the other, holding his prick at the extremity of its length, so that the strokes she delivered were concentrated mainly upon his glans. A second drop of Cowper's fluid oozed up from Drakes' prick.. To Sharon, it looked like a diamond that she'd mined from the depths of his masculinity.



Drake's cock was definitely longer, thicker, and harder than it had been when Sharon had first started working him over. His current state was a testament, she thought, to her masturbatory skills. Her boyfriends--and the male members of her family--had taught her well, indeed.



Judging that she'd teased him long enough, Sharon decided to use the method she called the two-fisted approach to bring Drake to his climax. Grasping his prick, hand over hand, she jerked his cock, both hands operating in tandem. The twofold grip gave her almost complete control over most of the length of his monster-size member. She brought him close to release twice, and then continued to jerk him off, fast and hard, until he lost control, spurting his thick, warm, white seed in jets and banners that streaked across his belly, chest, and face, unfurling themselves in white ribbons that splattered against, and across, his flesh, so that we wore his own viscid semen. She wiped the sperm that had run down his prick onto her hand onto his thigh, and smiled up at him, as if to ask whether she would be hired.



"Thank you, Ms. Cade; that's all" is all he said, though, in a raspy voice, peering down at her through half-lowered eyelids, as if he were a king and she a vile and worthless peasant. Now that he'd attained the nirvana of orgasm, his whole demeanor had changed. Before, when she'd had a useful service to offer, he'd been at least civil. Now, despite his "thank you" and his addressing her as "ms.," he was aloof, even cold. Maybe, Sharon thought, that was part of the protocol for the auditions. Maybe he was merely being careful not to be too familiar.



After all, she hadn't been hired yet. In fact, she still had four auditions to go.



She rose. "Yes, sir.," she said. After dressing, she walked to the door that connected with the outer office, where the receptionist was waiting to direct her--and the other applicants--to their next respective auditions.



* * * The Second Audition * * *



The secretary ushered Sharon into another room. Inside, another naked man, who introduced himself simply as Carlos, awaited her, seated in the middle of a long couch which, like the armchair in which her previous judge had sat, was upholstered in leather.



A thick rubber mat was in place on the carpet at Carlos's feet.



Sharon stood inside the closed door, awaiting her instructions.



They were immediately forthcoming: "Strip," Carlos commanded.



Sharon's response was just as immediate. She began to unbutton her blouse.



"Look at me," Carlos instructed her. "Watch me watch you."



A voyeur, Sharon thought. She resisted the urge to shrug as she raised her head, looking into his dark eyes. He was a handsome man, in his mid-thirties, perhaps, with dark wavy hair; a swarthy complexion; a thin, jagged scar down his left cheek; a bushy, exaggerated handlebar mustache; broad shoulders; a hairy barrel chest; tight abs; a narrow waist; thick, muscular thighs and calves; and a nine-inch cock that stood straight up, past his navel, above huge balls.



He watched as she unbuttoned and removed her blouse; slipped out of her skirt, exhibiting long, sleek legs and frilly pink panties decorated with lavender lace; unfastened and took off her matching bra, exposing her firm, high, round tits; slid her underwear down her shapely thighs, past her knees, and along her calves, revealing her shaved pussy, a delicate dimple between her legs, and stepped out of the last garment--she wasn't wearing, and didn't need, stockings or pantyhose--and stood before him, splendid in the beauty of her nakedness.



As he'd instructed her, Sharon had watched him watching her as she undressed, and she was conscious of the effect that her nakedness had had upon him. The appreciation of her charms was evident in his eyes, just as his lust was obvious in his lingering, leering gaze. As he had probably known, his watching her had aroused Sharon as much as he himself had been stimulated by her revelations of her breasts and pussy as she'd undressed before him. His appreciation of her assets, like his obvious lust, was rousing to her, and her nipples and clitoris hardened, while her pussy became moist. He was rock hard, too, and neither of them had touched the other.



"Approach," Carlos said, and Sharon walked forward, her breasts bobbing and swaying with every footfall. She was intensely aware of his eyes upon her body, ogling her boobs, tummy, hips, pussy, and legs. Once or twice, he'd even made eye contact with her, which sent an electric thrill up her spine and made her cunt feel queasy and her knees weak.



"Kneel," he ordered, when she was within a foot or so of the couch, and, dutifully, she complied with his directive, kneeling on the thick rubber pad between his parted thighs. "You may begin," he said.



Sharon had been told the purpose of this audition, and, without wasting a moment of Carlos' time, she bent forward at the waist, her long blonde locks cascading over his thighs as she did so, and, parting her lips, took his rigid, standing cock into her mouth.



She started right in, her head bobbing up and down as she pumped her rounded lips back and forth, over the taut flesh of his risen, rigid cock. Her cheeks were concave. She moved her head from side to side as she sucked his cock, adding to the sensations that her warm-soft-wet mouth stirred in his loins. As she ministered to him, her hand, a loose fist below her mouth, also pumped the flesh back and forth, up and down, upon his straining cock. Her oral embrace became something of a dance as she thrust and bobbed and thrashed her head, her lips clinging to his shaft. She let his saliva-slick cock slide free of her lips, drew them along the side of his shaft, and paused to lick his balls through the tight, risen pouch of his silk-smooth scrotum. A thick strand of saliva connected her lower lip to the tip of his cock for a moment, before it snapped and fell away.



Above her, almost as if it were a luminescent halo, the circle of lamps that comprised one of the chandeliers that hung from the ornately craved ceiling illuminated her angelic face. It seemed somehow incongruous to Carlos to be seated naked on a leather couch in a room of such opulent furnishings and elegant décor while a beautiful, nude woman knelt before him, sucking his cock. He'd conducted auditions before, many times, in this same room, but, each time, he still felt as if he were getting away with something he oughtn't to get away with, and he felt that the enterprise in which he, as a junior partner, was more than a mere participant, was somehow vaguely wrong, or immoral. He attributed these feelings to his Roman Catholic upbringing and to his financial success as a Latino man in a white man's world. There was no reason to feel odd or guilty, though, he told himself. He'd worked hard, and he deserved to enjoy such perquisites as a white woman's sucking his Hispanic prick. Besides, if she was good enough, he'd be helping her by recommending her as an associate.



Sharon drew back, leaning even farther forward, her creamy breasts dangling, udder-like, the way Carlos liked to see them, and, opening her mouth wide and extending her tongue, concentrated for a full minute upon licking the tightly gathered flesh of Carlos' scrotum, jiggling his balls inside their fleshly pouch. His skin shone where she'd made it wet with her lapping strokes. As she licked his balls, she was careful to continue to squeeze and masturbate his cock. She sucked one of his testicles into her mouth, holding it there, in her warm, wet oral embrace, before releasing it so that she might replace the oval gland with its twin. This action made Carlos squirm, and he moaned, obviously aroused by the vulgar intimacy of her having taken his gonads into her mouth.

<hr pg="2" />Returning to the sucking of his cock, she looked up at him, past his groin, his waist, and his chest, to stare into his dark eyes. Again, he moaned, excited by her looking at him while her mouth was stuffed with his dick. There was something extremely intimate and seductive in her gazing at him as she ministered to his erect penis. She continued to gaze at him, letting his cock slide slowly, slowly down, out of her mouth as she raised her head, and, when the tip of his prick had cleared her lips, she licked hard and fast at the swollen glans, pausing between laps, to smile as she looked him steadily in the eye.



She had such a lovely, angelic face; to see it juxtaposed against his stiff cock was maddeningly erotic. The effect was by no means lost upon Carlos. In fact, seeing her tonguing his cock, nursing his prick, licking his penis, and thrusting her open mouth down the shaft of his manly member made him quiver and groan, even as it made his stiff cock even more rigid, his distended dick even more swollen, and his erection longer still. The slurping, guzzling sounds that the blonde bitch made as she gave him head were also erotic in the extreme. Just the sight of the cock-sucking blonde on her knees, his prick in her pink lips, sucking him off as she eyed him was enough, almost, to bring him to orgasm! She had skills as a fellatrix; there was no doubting that!



Wanting to take a more active part in the act, Carlos leaned forward, placed his hands atop Sharon's head, and drew her face toward his groin in short, quick pulls. At the same time, as much as possible, he thrust forward with his hips, face-fucking the applicant. He was so caught up in the lust that filled him that he forewent any concern for her comfort, ravishing her. Her chin pressed hard into the cushion of his balls, her mouth, open wide around his prick, kissed his balls, her nose was jammed into his pubes, and her forehead was only an inch or two from his lower belly. Perversely, her beauty, her delicate frame, her sleek, smooth breasts, and her soft, full lips had brought out not the protective, paternal instinct within him but its opposite: an all-but-irrepressible urge to brutalize her.



After several more thrusts of his rigid cock into her mouth as he simultaneously tugged her head sharply forward, into his genitals, groin, and belly, he released her, and her head rebounded from his crotch. She opened her mouth, and a stream of his fecundating fluid, thick and white, spilled from her parted lips. He had climaxed, shooting a jet of his semen into her mouth as he'd face-fucked her.



Now, with her still kneeling on the floor, between his legs, Carlos took his prick in hand, closing his fist tightly around the lurching, straining shaft, and, pointing his convulsing cock into her lovely face, directed several spurts of his sperm into her countenance. She opened her mouth, willing to catch as much of her seed as she could, but the streamers that launched from his prick were wild and uncontrollable. 



Another banner of his seed streaked across her cheek, where it was deposited as a long, thick strand, although part of the streamer missed her brow and hair completely, shooting over her shoulder to splatter somewhere on the carpet beyond them. A sprinkle from the spume landed upon Sharon's tongue, making her blink. She kept her mouth open, wide, like the spiny half-shells of the Venus flytrap, hoping to catch not flies, but more of Carlos' honey. A small pool of his opalescent semen had formed in the slight crease that traveled from the corner of her pert nose to the corner of her open mouth. His sperm looked good on the blonde bimbo, Carlos thought.



Part of the next shot of his seed splattered across the bridge of Sharon's nose, while another length of the same unfurling ribbon spattered against her chin. Her face shone, here and there, wherever his semen had smeared across her countenance. The sight of her sperm-splattered face, shining with his seed, was titillating, indeed, Carlos thought, as another volley of his fecundating fluid, hurtling forth from his heaving cock, landed upon her brow, just below her hairline, and started, at once, to run, slow as molasses, down her forehead. The semen on her chin had likewise begun to bow to gravity's claim upon it, and the thick, syrupy goop meandered down to the edge of her jaw line, dripping onto her naked breast.



There was still more semen in his seemingly inexhaustible supply, and the sticky white stuff spewed again, in a long, wavering tendril, striking her upper lip and teeth; some of the blast also spurted into her mouth, filling the oral cavity with its white, thick substance and several millions of Carlos' wriggling sperm. The semen on her upper lip and teeth, pulled by the invisible force of gravity, descended in a long, thick strand, gleaming in the light of the chandelier.



Sharon tilted her head farther back, and the pearly string joined the pool of his semen inside her mouth. She looked up at him, past the sperm that, having run down her brow, was clotted, so to speak, in her heavy thick eyelashes, and, he felt that, were he not a professional conducting business, he might well have fallen in love with this applicant, who was so docile and passive and submissive that, in his opinion, she'd make an excellent addition to the staff.



"Swallow," he commanded her, eager to see the mouthful of his seed become an afternoon snack for her, to be broken down by the hydrochloric acid in her stomach and the enzymes of her digestive tract, to be used and assimilated by her beautiful body, becoming, for a time, at least, part and parcel of her very anatomy. She had worked hard these last twenty minutes in earning her supper, and she had the right, he thought, to enjoy every last drop of the sustenance he had provided her.



Still looking up at him, her face splattered with his seed, she frowned slightly with concentration and closed her mouth. So full was her mouth that she appeared to have the full cheeks of a chipmunk or squirrel who has stored away nuts in its mouth to carry back to its hiding place, as larder for the winter. After a short struggle, she managed to swallow. Her esophagus undulated as it forced the thick, viscid mouthful of his semen down her throat, and she opened her jaws wide to show Carlos that she had, indeed, obeyed his command, swallowing his sperm.



He rose, stepped past her, and, calling over his shoulder, as he began to don his clothes, said, "You may dress. Then, see the secretary for your next audition."



* * * The Third Audition * * *



As Sharon closed the door behind her, the secretary, Ms, Holloway, glanced at her. Then, she checked the clock on her desk. Standing, she said, her voice curt, "Follow me, please, Ms. Cade."



Sharon was led down the hall to another closed door.



The secretary knocked, and a voice from within called, "What is it?"



Without opening the door, Ms. Holloway called, "Do you have time for an audition, sir?"



There was a moment's pause. It was rather late in the afternoon, after all. Then the voice, deep and sonorous, called, "Who's auditioning?"



"Ms. Cade," the secretary replied.



This time, there was no hesitation. "Send her in."



The secretary opened the door, ushering Sharon into a spacious, well-appointed office. Elegantly furnished, it included a wet bar. The office's sole occupant, an African-American man in his mid-forties stood, naked, behind the counter, pouring a drink. He lifted the shot glass, nodding at Sharon, and drained its amber-brown contents in a single gulp. "I'm Don Baxter," he introduced himself. Setting the glass on the countertop, he asked, "May I pour something for you, Ms. Cade?"



"No, thank you, sir," she replied.



He stepped out from behind the counter, and Sharon got her first look at him below the waist. Like the company's other executives, he was good looking. His hair was very short, a mere stubble, and he wore a trim mustache. His skin was more tan than brown, and his eyes were hazel, indicating a large measure of Caucasian ancestry in his bloodline. The white inheritance had softened some of his features. His nose was not as imposing as those of most members of his race, and his lips were thinner than is typical among blacks. His ears were small, his cheekbones high, his jaw line clear, and his chin well-delineated, if not prominent. He had wide, powerful shoulders, a massive chest, six-pack abs, a narrow waist, and sinewy legs. He was hung like a bull. Each of his balls were as big as one of Sharon's fists, and his cock, even semi-erect, as it was at the moment, was at least a foot long.



Her refusal of his offer to pour her a drink seemed to have pleased him. "If you'll step this way," he declared, "we can get started."



She let her smile be her response, following him across the office, through a doorway and into another room. Cozily, but tastefully, decorated, it was a bedroom, complete with bath, containing a king-size bed, a dresser, an armchair and an ottoman, a settee, a big-screen television set, a 100-gallon aquarium inhabited by an array of brightly colored tropical fish, and several oil paintings that resembled--indeed, probably were--masterpieces by a variety of renown artists. Through sliding glass doors, a balcony looked out over the city. Judging by his office, which was complete with bedroom and balcony, Sharon suspected that Mr. Baxter occupied a rung several steps higher up the corporate ladder than the men who'd auditioned her previously.



"Be it ever so humble," he joked, "there's no place like home away from home."



"It's beautiful," she said.



"Not as beautiful as you, my dear." He smiled at her, but his eyes were on her breasts and hips. "I'd like to see more of you."



She took his meaning, removing her clothes. As she did so, she kept her eyes upon him, as Carlos had taught her to do, and she saw the same looks of admiration, appreciation, and lust in his gaze as she'd witnessed in the Latino's stare.



"Lovely!" he exclaimed as she removed her bra, and her firm, round breasts were displayed.



"Lovely, indeed!" he declared as she removed her skirt and panties, exposing the hairless cleft of her cunt.



She glanced at his prick. It was easily more than a foot in length, she saw, now that it was fully erect. The glans reached to his chest, and she found herself wondering whether he would be able to suck his own cock, as a few exceptionally well-endowed, supple men could do and whether, if he could, he would do so, or would he, perhaps, find it a homosexual act, even if it was one he performed upon himself? Of course, if he were bi- rather than heterosexual, such a fine point wouldn't matter, anyway, she thought.



From the look of him, though, Sharon told herself, there didn't appear to be anything same-sex in Don Baxter's sexual orientation or preference. Perhaps his obvious heterosexuality, virility, and masculinity were the reasons that he'd been chosen to conduct this particular audition, if, indeed, he and the other judges were chosen by others.



Don seated himself on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress beside him. "Would you care to join me, Ms. Cade?"



"Sharon, please, sir."



He smiled at her. "Sharon, then," he agreed, "as long as I'm Don, not 'sir.'"



"I'd be delighted to join you, Don."



After she'd sat down beside him, Don wasted no time cupping her breast. "I love a pert pair like yours," he said.



She continued to smile. What a romantic thing to say, she thought, but she said only, "Thanks."



He gave her tit a playful squeeze. "You're erect," he said, twiddling her stiff nipple with his thumb.



Glancing at his cock, she grinned. "Look who's talking."



"Would you like to do something about it?" he asked.



Not really, she wanted to say, but, instead, smiling again, she said, "I'd be delighted."



"Why don't you just lie back, then," he invited her, "on your back."



She did as she'd been told.



"Spread you r legs."



She did so, and he lay down, atop her. Fumbling beneath himself, between his legs, he found his cock and aimed it into Sharon's cunt. Her twat was moist, if not wet, and his gargantuan prick slid easily past the labia and into her warm, tender pussy.



Her blonde hair spread out under her head and neck, like a fan, and her breasts jiggled to his thrusts. She was tight, and he was big, and his cock fit her cunt as a hand fits a glove. Her smooth-shaved groin was sleek, and he delighted in the warm, wet embrace of her pussy.



As Don fucked her, Sharon played with her breasts and nipples, cupping one, squeezing it lightly, then firmly, in her hand, and then pinching its nipple, alternating between the two firm, round mounds. Don's huge cock filled her cunt with every thrust, and as he withdrew, preparing to deliver his next plunge into her now-sopping wet twat, it felt to her as if he were pulling her uterus out with his retreating member. The next moment, however, the enormous prick filled her pussy again, and she moaned, unable to repress the sound of her rising passion.



As she continued to play with one breast, squeezing and rubbing the soft, sleek orb and flicking its stiff, standing nipple, she reached between her legs with her other hand, twiddling her swollen, rigid clitoris within the fleshly hood just above her vagina. Again, she groaned. Her fingers stroked and pinched the hard nub of flesh, and her thighs twitched, the muscles jerking involuntarily.



Don grunted as he shoved his prick past the tender lips of Sharon's pussy, driving his rigid column of flesh deep into the liquid center of her warm sex. The shaft of his cock glistened with her juices. Sharon's pussy had flooded, and the delicate, tender tissues inside the gash within her pubic mound offered no resistance, frictional, muscular, or otherwise, to his pounding assault.



Don would have liked to continue to fuck the blonde forever. The sensations that assaulted his senses, muscles, and nerves, in both his genitals and his brain, were wonderful. However, despite his excellent health, vigor, strength, and stamina, he could not outlast the applicant, whose role in the act in which they were engaged was largely passive. A tsunami of passion had unleashed itself within the depths of his being, and the undercurrent of ecstasy flashed through him, as irresistible as it was powerful.



Seized by orgasm, Don rammed his prick into Sharon's pussy, all the way to his balls, and, shuddering as he lay atop her, released spurt after spurt of his thick, warm seed, further flooding her already-drenched cunt. He moaned, and she cried out, clutching his back, her sculpted nails digging into his flesh. He did not feel them. He felt only the overwhelming surge of semen as it burst from his balls, shooting up through his lurching, straining cock, and erupted in salvo after salvo within the blonde's liquid center.



Don continued to fuck the applicant as his semen launched, volley after volley, into the soft, pink interior of her liquid cunt. His hips rose and fell with the rapidity of a machine, fluid and irresistible, driving his cock again and again into her depths. Not until he'd delivered the last of the supply of his seed did he roll off the blonde to lie, panting, at her side, his heart hammering as he gasped for breath.



When he'd recovered sufficiently, Don said, "You're dismissed. Return to the secretary for your next audition."



* * * The Fourth Audition * * *



Ed's erection seemed too thick to fit, even by force, inside the applicant's tiny anus. However, taking his immense cock in hand, he guided the long member between the silken mounds of Sharon's sleek derriere, pointing its rubbery glans into the dimple of her asshole, and, shoving his hips forward, in a smooth, fluid motion, easily drove his prick through the ring of her sphincter and into her rectum, all the way to his balls.



He paused, his cock buried deep inside her bowels, until the frantic fluttering of her anus subsided and the muscle relaxed, accepting his presence. Then, he began to fuck her in earnest, thrusting his prick back and forth inside the gaping mouth of her buttocks. His advances crushed the sleek mounds of her bottom, but Sharon's ass cheeks sprang back to fullness as he retreated, before, a moment later he slammed his hips forward again, to drive his pubes firmly against her backside and grind his groin into her arched and penetrated derriere.



On occasion, as he fucked her, he retreated farther than he should have done, and, as a result, his penis was pulled free of her anal embrace, revealing the round, cored effect that his penile pummeling had had upon her anus, the stretched muscle allowing him to peer several inches into her pink-walled bowel before his gaze was lost to the darkness of her depths.



However, as he shoved his cock forward again, it entered her easily, sliding freely and deeply home, and, repeatedly, he plunged into her, his swollen cock filling her bottom again and again. Her cunt, unused, was a slit closed off by her labia, as unnecessary as it was redundant.



On her elbows and knees, Sharon might have been praying, but of course, she was not. Biting her lower lip, her eyes closed to prevent the spill of the tears gathering in her eyes, she was trying to be the good, obedient, passive girl he wanted her to be, without crying out, protesting, or offering even so much as a gasp or a sigh to betray her discomfort, which was both physical (it felt as if he must split her asunder at any moment) and emotional (it was humiliating in the extreme to be fucked up her ass, she'd found). She needed the position for which she was auditioning, desperately enough not only to submit to anal intercourse with a stranger, but also to pretend to enjoy being fucked brutally and mercilessly by him, and in the ass, at that.



Ed increased both the tempo and the force with which he pummeled the applicant, plumbing her depths with butt-pounding vigor. His long, hard cock plunged into her buttocks in quick, easy strokes, cramming her ass again and again. Her hand closed upon the pillowcase, bunching it--and the pillow it contained--within her fist, but she made no whimper, groan, gasp, or grunt. However, she did frown. She should have been smiling, of course, even if the stranger couldn't see her face from his position, above and behind her, but she just couldn't. Instead, she bit her lip more firmly.



A tear escaped, seeping from the corner of her left eye, and coursed down her cheek. Normally, it might have tickled, but, as it was, the sensation that the meandering droplet might, under different circumstances, have produced was lost in the feel of the stranger's rigid cock, sliding back and forth, like a piston, inside the cylinder of her anus and bowel; the collisions of his pubes and groin against her bouncing buttocks; and the pounding of his powerful frame against her delicate body.



Had a camera--or a mirror--been present to capture her expression, the device or surface would have revealed a welter of looks: anguish, humiliation, indignation, outrage, and lust.



Occasionally, his balls would slam her vacant cunt, the tight, risen scrotum colliding against the smooth lips of her shaved pussy. When he withdrew too far, and his cock slid free of her ravaged asshole for a moment, before plunging home again, inside her rectum, her anus was visible, wide, gaping, pink-walled, and deep, a short tunnel leading into the darkness of her depths. The well-stretched, circular orifice was itself a testament to his manhood, to his masculinity and to his mastery, he thought, pleased at the sight, for it was his virility, in the exercise of his huge, hard cock, that had opened the portal to her bowels to such an extent.



As the stranger continued to pound her, Sharon reached between her legs. Slipping her fingers into the deep crevice of her wet pussy, she lubricated her digits; then, her fingertips found the hard bud of her swollen clitoris, and she rotated her hand in quick, tight circles, her fingers stiff, their tips massaging her clitoris within the funneled hood of flesh that enclosed it. A look of ecstasy appeared on her face, in place of the tight, drawn expression her features had worn just moments ago. Soundlessly, her jaws opened and closed, drool spilling from the corner of her mouth.

<hr pg="3" />Ed watched his cock penetrate the applicant's bottom, vanishing and reappearing between Sharon's silken buttocks, as it plunged and retreated within her anus. He could feel the satin-smooth, firm-soft curves of her ass cheeks as his cock slid between them, through her clinging anus, and into the spacious chamber of her lower bowel.



The sight of her, passive on her elbows and knees before him, allowing his use of her in this most intimate and vulgar fashion, without so much as a gasp or a sigh of protest, was exhilarating to his ego, making him feel both manly and virile, powerful and domineering. He slammed his cock home, shoving his hips forward with tremendous force, and her ass cheeks flattened before his advance, her ass, her asshole, and her bowel admitting him yet again into her innermost, most sacred center.



He felt that she--or, rather, her ass--was a temple that he was desecrating, and the idea of his violation of the holiness of her femininity enflamed him with pride as much as it emboldened him with lust. He felt as if he were a god ravaging a mortal woman, the way that Zeus must have felt the many times he'd forced himself upon one of the human females he'd ravaged. There was a fine line, it seemed, between divinity and bestiality.



He gripped her hips, jerking her backward to meet his advances as he pounded her ass, and she rocked back and forth upon her elbows and knees.



Cunts were ugly, Ed believed. Hairy, trimmed, or bald, a pussy was truly repulsive. Men knew, as did women, deep down, he thought, that the twat was hideous and revolting. The labia looked like misshapen--and misplaced--lips, and the lips of a shriveled old crone, at that, and the dark abyss of the cunt itself resembled nothing so much as a maw, but, again, the oral cavity of some blind, reeking, deaf, mute, and drooling monster. The conical hood that housed the clitoris--an ugly parody of the penis, both diminutive and deformed--looked like a half-formed, withered flower that was limp and emaciated rather than blossoming with health and beauty.



A woman's anus was preferable to the labia, as the rectum was to the vagina. When sex was divorced from reproduction, there was no need to penetrate the ugliness of a woman's cunt, and, in fact, a man was as good a sexual partner as a woman, maybe better.



The asshole and the ass were not intended, perhaps, by God or nature, as surrogates for a woman's sex organs, any more than they were meant to be penetrated. By design, they were means of egress, after all, not of ingress. Nevertheless, they accommodated themselves marvelously well to such use, allowing men to play a female role while making women forego the dubious claim that they sometimes made, if only implicitly, to special status as the vessels necessary to carry a man's germinated seed to harvest.



Hadn't Zeus himself had sexual relations with Ganymede as well as with Leda? If pleasure replaced parenthood and reproduction as the end of sex, there was nothing special about a woman or her cunt; her ass--or that of a man's--could serve as well or, indeed, better than her much-vaunted pussy, for the anus was tighter than the vagina, even after multiple penetrations.



With these thoughts in mind, Ed resumed watching his cock shove past the applicant's buttocks, through her anus, and into her rectum. His prick entered her easily, sliding fluidly into her depths, but it looked as if it would split her in half. How could such a tiny aperture accommodate such a thick, rigid, and lengthy organ as his cock? It seemed impossible, but her behind did accommodate his lunging, plunging prick repeatedly, taking its length and girth and firmness again and again, the circle of her stretched sphincter indenting with his cock as it thrust into her depths and clinging to the shaft as it withdrew, almost as if the ring of muscle were so enamored of the virile, manly appendage that it couldn't bear to be parted from it, even for a moment, but must follow it wherever it went, whether into her center or away from the core of her being.



The sight of his long, hard cock sliding into and out of her bottom, back and forth inside her asshole, made his balls ache. He wanted--needed--the relief that orgasm and ejaculation would provide, but he also wanted--needed--to remain inside her fanny. He wished he could go on fucking her in her gorgeous ass forever, but, of course, this was an idle dream. Sooner or later, he'd have to ejaculate, and his spill of seed, in quick, thick blasts, would bring closure to the act, whether he wanted it to end or not.



High inside his risen, tightened scrotum, his aching balls seemed intent upon exploding--or imploding--if they couldn't void themselves of their pent-up semen within the next few moments, and he felt the overwhelming sensation of imminent orgasm. A few more plunges, he thought, would bring him to the point of no return, wherein instinct would overcome self-discipline, and he would spew his seed into the applicant's ass, regardless of his will to the contrary.



Sharon's asshole didn't just admit him. It embraced him. It welcomed him. It enveloped and engulfed him. Her ass cheeks were plush pillows of muscle and flesh, smooth and soft but, at the same time, firm and elastic. Every time he launched his member into her depths again, it seemed the first time, and it seemed that her sphincter greeted his member, that her anus hugged his cock, that her buttocks kissed his balls, his pubes, and his groin.



The pressure that her buttocks exerted against the sides of his shaft as he worked the stiff organ between the sleek orbs was heavenly. Even in its stretched and relaxed state, her anus was tight around his cock, fitting him perfectly. Instead of his cock sliding through her asshole, the aperture itself appeared to slide up and down, back and forth, along the length of his penis. The sensations of her asshole were wonderful. He frowned as he felt another telltale sign of approaching orgasm, biting his own lower lip in an effort to slow, if not entirely frustrate, the orgasmic explosion upon the edge of which he teetered.



For her part, she'd never felt so packed full of cock in her life. His mighty manhood, longer, thicker, more rigid, and way more insistent than any prick that had ever filled her asshole before, was monstrously large, and the man who wielded it was seemingly as indefatigable as a machine. He'd been pounding her with his cock for what seemed like ages, and, yet (it seemed to her, at least), he had as much strength and stamina now as he'd had when he'd first stuffed her bottom with his rigid column of flesh.



Needing the position for which she was auditioning, Sharon had tried hard to show him that she was a trooper; that she would do whatever he wanted her to do without reservation, protest, or complaint; and that she'd bear any distress, any humiliation, and any indignation to honor him, but she could no longer control her passion, and a gasp, followed by a grunt and a groan, signaled her anguish. The constant stuffing of her bowel, the continuous sliding back and forth of his smooth, rigid prick inside her anus, the pummeling of her buttocks, and the wracking of her frame had, at last, become more than she could bear in silence, and she moaned and whimpered, despite herself.



He responded by jabbing and stabbing his cock faster and harder into her depths, jiggling her buttocks with swift, powerful strokes, and she cried out, her body rocking before his thrusts as he slammed her again and again, relentless and heartless in the intensity of his attack upon her ass.



She frowned, wailing, her breasts flopping and swinging beneath her, as tears coursed down her wet, shining face--tears of pain, of fear, of humiliation, of rage, of passion.



In mid-stroke, orgasm seized him, and he doubled forward, slamming his cock all the way into her, as his semen erupted, spewing deep into her bowels. Hastily, he pulled out, letting his hard cock shoot jet after jet of his thick, viscid seed over her ass as the semen that he'd already emptied into her rectum seeped out of her ravaged, gaping asshole and dribbled down her perineum and around the thick lips of her useless, ugly cunt.



His creamy semen ringed her anus, and, looking into the stretched opening to her bowels, he could see the shining, pearly seed clinging to the pink walls of her rectum. Another geyser of his fecundating fluid spewed from his convulsing cock, splattering her backside. Her lovely buttocks were quite a mess, covered, as they were, in his semen.



Sharon Cade was quite a fuck, he thought, even if, in the end, she'd whined and whimpered, moaned and groaned, grunted and gasped. Such sounds were unacceptable. She must learn to keep silent and bear such assaults in peace, not that, under the circumstances, she had made all that much noise.



But that was a small matter. She could be taught. Her ass could be trained, and, as far as he was concerned, her audition was a success: she'd earned his recommendation.



* * * The Fifth Audition * * *



"Don't just stand there, looking like an idiot--or a blonde bimbo--just the door, get naked, and eat my pussy!"



Upon opening the door at the call of the voice within, which had answered her knock, Sharon had stood, eyes wide and mouth agape, staring at the beautiful, naked brunette who lay on the leather couch, her head propped up on an immense pillow. She couldn't believe her eyes: the person who was conducting her final interview wasn't a man; she was a woman, and a lesbian at that. Moreover, she was Marilyn Holloway, the administrative assistant who'd escorted Sharon and the other applicants to the various offices in which, with male executives, they'd auditioned for the company's "hostess" position!



Sharon shook her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to stare. It's just that--"



"Did you hear me, bitch?" the secretary snapped. "I told you to get naked and eat my pussy!"



"Yes, ma'am!"



Sharon had her clothes off and was on her knees, naked, in under three minutes. She leaned forward, her hands running up, along the secretary's smooth thighs. Her elbows bent, and she laid her forearms across the administrative assistant's lower abdomen as she faced Ms. Hollloway's cunt, which, like Sharon's own, was shaved. The slit within the brunette's pubic mound was scented with roses--a perfume, Sharon guessed--that, like the dainty, delicate folds of her pink labia, was welcome and inviting. The applicant noticed that a few drops of fluid adorned the labia; the moisture reminded Sharon of drops of dew on a fragile rose.



"Your pussy is beautiful, ma'am, if you don't mind my saying so."



"Just eat it, bitch!" Ms. Holloway barked. "I don't need--or want--your flattery."



It wasn't "flattery," Sharon wanted to object; it was a compliment, sincerely meant. She kept her mouth shut, though, as far as any rejoinder was concerned, opening it only to clamp her lips over the wet, pink slit of the secretary's sex. She slipped the tip of her tongue into the groove of Marilyn's vagina, running her oral appendage along the other woman's fleshly furrow as if it were a plough dividing the earth.



Marilyn's knees came together sharply, one of her inner thighs compressing against either side of the blonde's head. The feel of the smooth flesh, backed by the firm muscles, felt wonderful, and the applicant was glad that the final audition involved a member of her own sex who, despite her rudeness and short temper, was as lovely as Sharon herself.



Above her, on the couch, all the air went out of the administrative assistant's lunges with a long, audible sigh. Sharon withdrew, her lips and lower face wet with the secretary's lubricating fluids, and planted a soft kiss upon the hard nub of Marilyn's clitoris. She licked the hood in which the miniature penis-like structure throbbed, swollen and rigid. Again, the brunette's thighs came together sharply against the sides of Sharon's head and the brunette exhaled loudly.



Although Sharon had sucked more cocks than she'd eaten pussies, she was no novice in the fine art of cunnilingus, any more than she was a rank amateur as a fellatrix. She was, in fact, a highly skilled muff diver. Besides, she loved women as much, and maybe more, than she loved men, although she enjoyed pleasing both sexes. She was confident that she could please the bitchy Ms. Holloway.



Nodding her head quickly, as if she were signaling an affirmative response to a question asked of her, Sharon let the stiffened tip of her tongue flick against the protruding bud of the secretary's clitoris, licking it upward, as her head was raised, and downward, as, a split-second later, it was lowered.



Up and down, her head rocked, her tongue lashing the quivering love button tucked inside the conical sheath that enveloped it. As Sharon continued to nurse at Marilyn's clit in this fashion, her nose shoved into the top of the brunette's bald groin and her chin resting against--and shoving into--the secretary's overflowing cunt, she pleasured the administrative assistant with most of her lower face as well as just her tongue, and the lesbian moaned, squirming on the couch.



Marilyn stretched forth her left hand, laying its heel upon the top of Sharon's forehead, with her fingers extended along the crown of the blonde's skull, and as Sharon continued to be a "yes" woman, as it were, nodding her head as if in answer to a question never asked, that her tongue might lap the secretary's clit both on the up and the down stroke, rotated her wrist so that the action of her pivoting hand assisted the rocking motion of the blonde's head.



Looking down, past her own breasts and their stiff, swollen nipples; the slightly concave depression of her tummy; and her bald pubic mound, Marilyn watched the blonde minister to her pussy. Sharon was beautiful. Her curly blonde locks were a cascade of gold, spilling over the peaches-and-cream complexion of Marilyn's naked thighs. As the applicant lapped rapidly at the cleft of the secretary's sex, the Sharon would occasionally look up at the administrative assistant, and Marilyn, seeing the blonde gaze at her with her wide, blue eyes as she munched her twat, felt an electric thrill along her spine. Eye contact with a lovely woman who was busily licking one's pussy was incredibly thrilling, Marilyn thought, and the sight of Sharon's face, half-buried in the brunette's flooded twat elicited another moan--or, in fact, a series of moans--from the secretary in whose hands, as it were, the outcome of Sharon's latest audition rested.



The bitch was good, Marilyn conceded, if only to herself. She was damned good!



Sharon licked alongside one of labia that guarded the portal to Marilyn's inundated pussy, then performed the same act with regard to the other lip, before plunging her tongue back through the opening to the brunette's vagina and licking the center of the dark-haired woman's sex. As the juices of Marilyn's cunt collected in the blonde's mouth, Sharon swallowed the warm nectar, wishing she could slake her thirst on an endless stream of the other woman's vital fluids.



The blonde changed tactics yet again. Turning one hand palm up and holding only the forefinger and the middle finger straight out, erect, while closing her thumb and the remaining digits, Sharon slid the extended fingers into Marilyn's pussy, finger-fucking her as, with her lips, tongue, and mouth, she concentrated upon the brunette's pulsating clit, kissing, nibbling, nursing, and licking the swollen, rigid bud inside the loose, inverted funnel of its hood. Marilyn's response was to writhe, squirm, moan, and groan.



Letting her middle finger slide free of the secretary's cunt for a moment, the blonde raised her thumb, laying it alongside the hooded clitoris; as she thrust her forefinger into the other woman's flooded pussy, she worked her thumb back and forth along the fleshly hood or made it perform tight, quick circles atop the brunette's swollen clit. After a few moments, Sharon again lowered her thumb, inserted her middle finger alongside her forefinger, inside Marilyn's twat, and resumed finger-fucking the administrative assistant while she munched her muff, as before.



Sharon folded back the wing-like appendages of Marilyn's labia minora, exposing the glittering and gleaming, saturated flesh within these folds of tissue. There was no doubt but that the secretary was sexually excited; her cunt was a river! Turned on by the sight of the fluids standing within the brunette's vagina, bedewing her labia, and cascading down her inner thighs, the blonde stuck her nose and lips into the deep trough, lapping at the warm fluids that filled and spilled from the fleshly watercourse. Like Marilyn's cunt, the applicant's lower face now shone and sparkled with the brunette's cunt juices.



Continuing to lick Marilyn's pussy, Sharon placed the tip of her middle finger against the brunette's clit, vibrating her hand left and right at such a speed that it was but a blur, like the wings of a hovering hummingbird. After half a minute of this frantic activity, Marilyn's clit, already hard, stiffened more as, already swollen, it swelled more and, already long, it lengthened further, driving the secretary half mad with escalating passion.



There were other things--lots of other things--that Marilyn would have liked to try with the applicant, such as to ram a huge dildo up the blonde bimbo's cunt or ass, spank her until her ass was purple and she'd been reduced to tears, and suck the nipples off her splendid tits, but the administrative assistant's audition time was nearly at its end, and, with orgasm looming near, she wanted to make sure that she got off before her time with the blonde bitch was over. "Get up, onto the couch, with me," she ordered.



Sharon complied.



"Lie down, on your stomach, with your head at the other end of the couch," she was told, and, again, Sharon followed the other woman's directions.



"Lift your left leg."



Sharon did so, and the brunette slid her ass down the couch, so that her own left leg was under Sharon's left leg.



"Spread your thighs," the brunette ordered. ":Wider!"



The blonde spread her legs, and the secretary tossed her right leg across the divide between Sharon's buttocks, squirming as she inched down the couch to bring her mons veneris and, more to the point, her clitoris into contact with the applicant's sex. She scooted another inch down the couch before she was satisfied that she'd ground her pubes as tightly against those of Sharon as was possible. The two women's wet cunts pressed firmly against one another, clit to clit.



The administrative assistant began to shove her crotch into Sharon's, as, at the same time, she rotated her hips, grinding her cunt against the other woman's twat. On her tummy, Sharon performed a mirror-image of the same action, rubbing and shoving her pussy back into the secretary's cunt. Their vaginas, both wet, soaked the couch and each other, adding to the thrill of the act. Both women gasped, moaned, and whimpered as, together, they worked themselves and one another into an orgasmic frenzy.



As they continued to hump each other, Marilyn reached her right hand forth to rub the left cheek of Sharon's marvelous ass. She gave the firm, sleek mound a squeeze before letting her hand trail along the blonde's smooth thigh and calf.



They continued to bump and grind their clits and pussies together, writhing and squirming as they rotated labia against labia, wetness against wetness, and hard, throbbing clit against hard, throbbing clit, their nipples so stiff and sore that it seemed to the women that they must soon explode.



Passion continued to build inside them, orgasm only moments away. It was curious to feel a woman's vulva pressed firmly against one's own, Sharon thought, almost as if it were the flesh of a smooth cheek, and to feel the lips of another woman's pussy pressed into those of one's own cunt, as if her pussy were kissing one's own, and to feel--

<hr pg="4" />--the onset of the first in a series of orgasmic paroxysms annihilated the blonde's thoughts, reducing her to caterwauling cries, gasps, shrieks, and moans as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss filled her, seeming to bursting. She was only dimly aware that Marilyn was also caught up in the throes of ecstasy and that the dark-haired woman's own cries and groans and whimpering had joined her own.



Even as they lost themselves in the tidal waves of passion that flooded their hearts, minds, and bodies, the two women continued to rock their cunts against each other and to bump and grind their slick, wet labia and clits together, furiously, with the abandon that comes only in the wake of the mindless impulses and needs of sexual ecstasy.



* * *



The Airbus A380 double-deck, wide-body airliner banked to the right, leaving New York City rapidly behind as it turned, climbing, and began its eight-hour journey across the sparkling surface of the Atlantic Ocean, bound for Paris, France.



Sharon reclined in her first-class suite, closing her eyes. She had always wanted to visit Paris, and now she'd be enjoying a month's vacation--well, a working vacation--in this fabled city, being wined and dined. She'd been assured that, apart from her performance of the services for which she'd been hired, she'd be free to come and go according to her own desires and whims.



She'd made quite a list of the places she wanted to visit and the things she wanted to do during her leisure hours, which would be most days and some nights. Even when she was with her client, a wealthy Parisian financier who was more than twice her age, much of their time together would be spent in nightclubs, at restaurants, and in theaters. All in all, she was looking forward to a fabulous time.



She'd already been booked for the month after this, too, and for the month following the next: she'd be spending them in London and Tokyo, respectively, with a famous rock musician and a political leader of world renown and consequence.



Among other destinations, Sharon's Paris itinerary included the Eiffel Tower, the Moulin Rouge show, the palace of Versailles, the Louvre, a dinner cruise on the Seine, and Mont Saint Michel. If she had to masturbate her client, suck his cock, and take his prick up her cunt and ass on occasion in between, well, that was just icing on the cake.

