Sharon Goes Back to School
Chapter 15 D: The Ball
Original Story: Scipio
Continued by Rogue Alan
If Christmas eve was a bust for the Sobel ****** in Sharon’s opinion, Christmas day made up for it. She had no idea when the kids got home, or when Chris slipped into bed beside her. And the kids, no longer children, enjoyed sleeping in, after which they worked together with Kelly to put the cinnamon rolls Flora had made into the oven, digging the coffee maker out of a cupboard instead of the Keurig they usually used. Sharon woke to the delightful aroma of a breakfast already made. She snuggled against Chris, glad to be home with her ******, and woke her husband with a kiss.
“Kids made breakfast,” she murmured, aware of a headache like she had forgotten experiencing often during the semester, the calling card of the frequent hangovers she had experienced for the first time after heading to college. She blinked, looking at the ceiling for a moment, head spinning at how the things she had vowed to do only at school were creeping into her life here at home. She wondered for a moment if she had really been such a slut at the club the night before, absently worrying the bar in her tongue over her teeth. She remembered the power and pleasure she had felt sucking off that stranger…
Pushing the thought away, Sharon glanced at the clock, “thankfully after 10AM.” Chris mumbled in reply, and Sharon elbowed his ribs, thankfully glad he was no more eager to get up. She almost giggled, wondering if he was hung over, too. “C’mon, Scrooge… once upon at time we were up at the crack of dawn.”
“Once upon a time you were up at the crack of dawn,” Chris countered, blinking his eyes and stretching, “I was the one still up at the crack of dawn. There was the year I was assembly a mountain bike that only had French and Chinese directions… and the year Catherine ‘had to have’ that enormous doll house. Some assembly required my ass… There was the year I stayed up keeping the dog quiet…”
“My prince charming,” Sharon giggled, rolling half over her husband to kiss him, “And they loved all of those gifts.” A moment later, she squealed as he swatted her naked bottom after she had gracefully completed turning over him, getting out of the bed on his side to use the bathroom.
“You’re running off with my gift!” he pouted. Sharon giggled,
“It’s not wrapped, yet.”
“I don’t mind,” Chris waggled his eyebrows, “The wrapping never stays on long, anyway.” She thought for a moment she might get to enjoy some private time with her husband, who was obviously enjoying the fact that she had gone to bed nude, when there was a knock on the door.
“Mom? ***?” Lisa paused, “Are you up yet?” It was Sharon’s turn to pout, which made her husband smile.
“We’ll be right out, hon’,” he assured her, then whispered, “See, you should have let me enjoy my gift.” Sharon leapt back onto the bed, knocking Chris against his pillow.
“They could wait,” Sharon kissed Chris’ neck, grinding her dampening sex against his morning erection, “It’s still early.”
“Oh no,” he teased, “They’re ready to open presents now…” He kissed her, before slipping out of bed, “But I’m glad to see you got me just what I wanted for Christmas…” Sharon giggled, leaning over and catching hold of Chris’ hips before he could move away from the bed. Curling her body as if he was the pole on stage, she managed to spin herself off of the bed and around in front of him, hands deftly yanking his sleep pants down over his erection, the elastic band yanking his cock down momentarily, making him yelp. Any protest died with a gurgle as Sharon sucked him fully into her mouth, swirling the tongue stud over the sensitive underside while bobbing her head slightly, never releasing the vacuum.
“Oh God,” Chris panted, a hand coming to rest gently on Sharon’s bobbing head, “That’s… You’re…” Within a minute she felt the change; her husband rose onto his toes, fingers tangling in her hair. “I’m… It’s close,” he managed, actually shivering when Sharon’s response was to bury her face against his crotch, holding him deep as her tongue went on swirling magically. “Ahhhh!” he cunt loose, wondering for an absurd moment if he could accidentally choke his wife, before gasping as her reflexive swallows applied a different but undeniably pleasurable sensation to his still firing cock.
Sharon kept with him until he was spent and nearly soft before she flopped back onto her elbows on the plush carpet, smiling up at him. “Merry Christmas, Scrooge,” she said, then giggled as he awkwardly pulled his pants back up while staring at her in open wonder. “What?” she pouted, “Wasn’t that what you wanted for Christmas?” He laughed.
“It’s part of it anyway.”
“Mmmm,” Sharon said without thinking, “Something like a stocking stuffer?” She licked her lips, eyeing his crotch suggestively, “I hope you’re willing to do some stuffing later on.” Chris’ smile was priceless… she was not sure if he had ever looked as happy with any other gift she had ever given him, and found herself wondering again how she had been such a prude for so many years.
“You are amazing,” he padded to the bathroom, pausing to look back, “And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” She sat up, smiling, knowing that he meant it.
“No, baby,” she shook her head, “That’s me.” Chris rolled his eyes and disappeared. When he reappeared as the toilet gurgled behind him, he offered her a crooked smile,
“That’s one way to keep from my having difficulty going to the bathroom after you tease me in the morning.” Sharon had gone into her closet, exiting in a white on pink variation of school sweat bottoms and a black and silver hoodie with the mascot on the front. “That’s what I was thinking,” she nodded, “Now hurry up and get something on… We need to get downstairs.”
With the swirling activity… kids eating and laughing and talking, then helping as she cleared the dishes before everyone went in for presents, Sharon had no time to consider that she had not yet gotten off that morning. And then everyone was in the living room where the stockings had been laid out. Sharon was surprised when Chris brought her stocking over… often he had not bothered with more than a rose or a note, but she had genuine packages, wrapped even. She smiled up at him pointing for him to get his stocking, too, and asking if Catherine had helped. He affected an injured air, then laughed,
“Both she and Kelly helped me… They took me shopping, then wrapped things up.” Intrigued, Sharon divided her attention between watching the kids’ happy reactions to the various tickets and gift cards and headsets and body lotion she had selected for them, and the new multifunction Casio watch she had found at the Union for Chris. Kelly and Catherine ambushed her, hugging from each side and demanding that she open her gifts.
She found red glass bottles of lotion and massage oil labeled ‘sensuality’ and asked Chris if he thought Santa was trying to tell her something, which earned her a wink and a shrug. There were several Apple and Starbucks gift cards, gas cards, along with a new Tervis travel mug with the school mascot on one side. There were nice earrings with small black and white and champagne diamonds in a swirling matrix of white and yellow gold. As she put them on, the thought that they went nicely with the BZ jewelry.
They moved on to the tree and Kelly and Catherine happily passed out packages, Chris suggesting everyone wait until the packages had been distributed, and then taking turns… Taking turns lasted until each of the kids and Kelly began to open one of the packages Sharon had arranged for everyone, including Chris… Nikon DS3100 camera packages. At that point the kids-- and Chris-- were poking around, wondering what the other similar shaped packages might be, racing to see who could find out.
Sharon laughed, when she opened the gift from the kids… an identical camera kit, including a flash, a bag, and two lenses.
“We saw you looking that those and thought you wanted one,” Scott told her, “I hope you like it.” She nodded, thrilled, “I almost got one for myself, honestly,” she said, “They take video, too, so we won’t have to drag the boxy camcorder along…” She paused, seeing Chris react as if she had said something wrong. Looking at her array of packages, she found a box similar to the one she had just unwrapped, but slightly smaller. Grabbing it, she tore at the package, already certain what it was… Sure enough, a new Sony HD camcorder sat in her lap.
“We can take it back,” Chris said sheepishly, “I just thought you’d want some mementos from school and I still use the one we have for the kids’ things here at school.” Sharon moved around the boxes, giggling and sat in Chris’ lap.
“It’s perfect,” she said, “I love it… And it’s smaller than the camera, so I can carry it in my purse anywhere I go. Thanks, baby.” She kissed him , wiggling her bottom just slightly, and giggling as his eyes bulged. “Get a room,” Scott groused, then laughed when both girls hurled fragments of gift wrap at him. The orgy of gift unwrapping resumed. Sharon was impressed at her haul, including three nice outfits and a Dillard’s gift card. Even the track suit, which Chris seemed hell bent on buying her each year, was something she would wear without hesitation. And one of the dresses, a red one shoulder sequined number, was absolutely outrageous. In fact, she wondered if Chris would feel like he had gotten the short end of the stick, but he truly seemed to love the watch and his other gifts.
When the gifts were all opened, the Sobels and Kelly went back into the kitchen to dig into the pumpkin, cherry, pecan, and French silk chocolate pies that Flora had left. The housekeepers gifts, both new equipment for caring for the house and true gifts and gift cards she could enjoy when she was not working, had been left under the tree, and they would celebrate again later in the week, when she returned. Sharon had asked about the other gifts under the tree, and the kids had shrugged, saying only that they had some presents for ‘friends.’
While they were haggling over who got to cut and who got to choose what pie pieces, she slipped back into the tree, picking up her new camera in case anyone asked what she was up to. She was not surprised to see ‘Z’ scrawled on one of the packages, with Scott’s angular handwriting. Seeing the same initial in Catherine’s elegant cursive though, left Sharon unsettled. She bit her lip, wondering if it could be jealousy she was feeling. Mentally scolding herself, she silently insisted it was only concern over what kind of boy he was… she had first hand knowledge, after all. Of course, she could not very well say, ‘Honey, you shouldn’t date him… he is cruel and dominating and demanding during sex.’ Shivering, and embarrassed at the way her clit sparked at the thought of the big high school senior, Sharon returned to the festivities, wondering how she could put a roadblock between Zeke and her ********.
After everyone had eaten and the gifts had been packed away to respective rooms, the wrapping stuffed into a pair of garbage bags that Chris had set in the garage by the trashcan, Sharon expected they would enjoy a lazy day snacking and watching television. She was surprised when Catherine and Scott came in, asking if they could see a movie. Kelly and Catherine wanted to see ‘How Do You Know’ which Scott panned as being another ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ the blonde actress bedding several men and choosing among the best of them. He wanted to see True Grit, instead, the western remake that made both girls wrinkle their nose in distaste. Chris suggested Tron Legacy, which he insisted the kids would like, too. Looking at the offerings, Sharon suggested Gulliver’s Travels, which made everyone else laugh, the kids reminding her they weren’t really kids any more.
They settled on the 1:15 showing of the third installment of the DeNiro Stiller vehicle, ‘Little Fockers.’ Piling into Sharon’s Range Rover, the ****** laughed and listened to the Christmas carols playing on every station as Chris drove to the nearby multiplex. Sharon barely registered that Chris had said they were meeting friends until she saw Trevor and several other young men standing out front of the theater. There was a mix of letter jackets, and she guessed that the game had jump started several friendships. Several of the young men had little girls fawning over them, she noticed, embarrassed at how her body had responded, seeing the big football player. Leaning over, she wrapped her arms through Chris’, smiling up at him, telling herself nothing strange would happen.
When she found out that Chris’ friends were not all seeing the Fockers, anyway, but several of the movies, all of which started within a few minutes of one another, she was relieved and yet slightly disappointed. Trevor had barely glanced her way, and while she had been happy he would not try to get her to have sex with all of the other assembled boys with her ****** right there, there was the undeniable bit of arousal at just the thought of it.
Chris got their tickets while she and the kids loaded up on popcorn tubs and enormous glasses of soda. She was a little surprised at how busy the theater was, but vaguely remembered reading somewhere that many families took advantage of the day together and with most stores closed to see a film together. The trailers ran, and Sharon managed to forget about the other people in the theater as she held Chris’ hand. The more… adult moment of the movie struck a little too close to home, and she leaned over, whispering, “I’m glad we didn’t try to do that at home.” Chris chuckled, and was busy enough watching the screen he did not see as Sharon’s eyes glazed , the housewife remembering what had happened in the hospital bathroom. By the time she shook herself back to the present, she had missed a significant part of the film, and she was so wet she was surprised everyone around them could not detect the scent of her arousal. Her clit was sparking steadily, and after squirming in her seat, unsuccessfully trying to ignore it, she knew she had to take care of it. For a moment she considered pulling her husband’s hand to her needing crotch, but reasoned he would be too surprised, and worried about whether she could keep from screaming if he did begin to finger her there in the theater. She leaned over to Chris.
“That pop went right through me,” she whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom.” Chris nodded, fixated on the beautiful brunette nearly throwing herself at Ben Stiller. Sharon got out of her seat, managing not to press her hand against her wanting sex as she hurried out of the dark theater. Kelly and her ******** made no move to join her, although she saw Kelly, who glanced away long enough to wink at her fellow BZ Bitch and lesbian lover. The casual intimacy, right there by the rest of her ******, spurred Sharon’s arousal.
The bathrooms were a distance away along either end of the long corridor, the nearer sign opposite the theater entrance and concession stand. Sharon hurried, aware that she had not been lying entirely to Chris-- she needed to pee as well as cum. As she neared the open doors for the bathrooms, though, the door to the nearest theater opened and Zeke stepped out, smiling at her as if he had somehow known she was coming. Sharon blinked in surprise, looking around to find with a mixture of relief and anxiety that the corridor was otherwise empty. He clit sparked, TWANG.
“Need something?” the big football player taunted her. Sharon took a halting step toward the bathroom. “You know,” he continued, maneuvering alongside of her, and then between her and the bathroom, “I’m still hot from that show you put on in the basement yesterday.” It seemed to Sharon he must be shouting. She looked around again, then glared at young man barely older than her son.
“I can’t do that here,” she hissed, “We’ll get caught. I’m not going in the men’s room, Trevor.” And yet, her body was nearly screaming for her to simply bend over and let him take her there in the corridor. “You’ll get in trouble if you go into the ladies’ room.” He shrugged damnably cocksure.
“Well, it might be worth it, or don’t you remember, Mrs. Sobel?” he said, and smiled more broadly when Sharon blushed although admitting nothing. “I’ll take that as a yes… In fact, you look like you’re just about desperate. I bet,” he adjusted himself suggestively, “If I pulled it out you’d blow me right here.” Sharon barely restrained her whimper, aware that he was most likely right. She needed to cum so badly she could barely think straight. “I mean, seemed okay fucking in your basement yesterday…” He laughed at the way the helpless white housewife’s body spasmed. She was good and hooked, all right. And she was hot as hell, so he was happy Dave had given him Kelly’s cell number. The little brunette was going to be fun, too, but he wanted to play more with this hottie… He had already told Dave he would soon enough be able to compare mother and ********. He caught her elbow, “I think we can find a solution, though.”
Sharon let the strong young man guide her through the door between the bathrooms, labeled ‘******.’ She had never paid attention to it before, her kids have been old enough to go on their own before such rooms had come into vogue. He smiled as she took in the small space… a toilet with room to maneuver a wheelchair, a sink and mirror, and on the opposite wall a baby changing station, harshly lit by fluorescent bulbs, the speckled tile floor designed to hide stains. It was nicer than the hospital bathroom, she thought absently, that memory spurring her arousal. She knew they had to act quickly if this was going to happen; she wished she knew how much of the movie was left.
Without thinking about it, Sharon dropped into her working mode. She made sure the door was locked-- remembering that Donnie had not bothered with that, she had already adopted that simple protection. Turning, she found Trevor leaning against the sink, smirking at her. Though she was angry at his attitude, Sharon was also too hot to really argue. She dropped to her knees in front of him, deftly fishing his already semi-erect cock from his jeans, and plunging her mouth down on him, sucking hungrily and bobbing her head as well.
“Yeah, slut,” Trevor patted her head, then let her keep working, his camera phone recording a great POV segment of his cock pumping in and out of her lips, “Guess you were pretty hot after all.” Sharon did not respond, working him eagerly, her own need buzzing in her senses, amplified as she reached into her new track pants and began to finger her dripping sex. The need to have feel Trevor inside of her was intense, and she whined her need when he pulled her up by the hair a moment later, turning her away, the movement pulling his rigid cock from her mouth.
“Grab the sink,” he demanded, barely waiting as Sharon pushed the pants and her thong down before he moved up behind her. She expected him to spear into her… welcomed it, really. Instead, the muscular high school senior slipped his erection over her swollen, wanting sex, the crown of the bulbous tip brushing her clit as he pressed his hips against her bare ass, teasing her instead. Sharon twitched her hips, trying unsuccessfully to shift him inside of her sex. “Mmm,” Trevor teased, leaning down to nip at the back of Sharon’s neck, “So you want this, then?” Sharon nodded her head, bracing against the sink and pushing back, tilting her pelvis, desperate to feel him inside of her. He did not relent, teasing back and forth, pausing so she would think he was going to take her, then slipping past her drooling opening again and again. Then he backed up, until the heavy head of his cock was barely teasing against her thrusting bottom. “I didn’t hear you,” he said, while trying to hold his camera phone steady, catching the agonized arousal of the beautiful housewife in the mirror.
“Fuck me!” Sharon moaned, hips humping back at him uselessly, “Give me your cock.” The pressure she felt was incredible, a need she could not deny. “Fuck me, please!” Trevor waited again, until Sharon was sure he was going to go on teasing her, and wondering if she might go crazy waiting to cum. She gave a choked cry as he easily thrust his erection fully into her, pausing at the bottom of the stroke, letting her feel him, filling her up. Sharon whined in protest when he backed out, hands pressing against the front of the sink as she moved back, into his next thrust. His hips slapped against her ass, the sound filling the small room, and immediately repeated as he set a fast tempo, fucking into her in full strokes as fast as he could. Sharon twitched and moaned but met his thrusts, knuckles white on the black marble veneer of the sink. She was close… so close… somehow, though, his thrusting shaft was not getting her off.
She tilted her pelvis, wanting to feel him moving against her clit again, or to stroke her G-spot… Anything to get off. She heard his breath as he panted, the sound echoing in the room. “Spank me!” she gasped, “Fuck me harder, daddy!” Trevor backed out fully in answer, landing a stinging swat to the right side of her ass, which made Sharon gasp. She bobbed her naked ass at him lewdly, hungry to have him resume fucking her. “Don’t tease,” she whined, wondering how he so easily took control of her, when at Go’s she was the one making the men beg, “Please, Trevor… fuck me… let me cum.” He fed her his cock again, but slowly, laughing as she twitched and jerked on it. “No fair!” she whined, “Fuck me, please!”
“Shhh, slut,” Trevor chuckled, “Who knows who’s out there listening… Maybe hubby’s come looking for you. Ahhh,” he feigned a reaction, “That made your tight little cunt grab hold,” he taunted her, “You get off thinking of hubby finding you getting railed?” Sharon shook her head, and was horrified at the thought, but he had said her pussy responded… could she want Chris to find her like this? Before she could think it through, the younger man reached down around her naked haunch, his big hand coming to rest just below her pubic bone. He applied external pressure while driving into her hard and fast, tilting his pelvis so he could feel the head of his cock drag over the front of her vaginal vault as he buried himself. His long third finger dropped, applying pressure to her clit at the same time, something he had seen demonstrated on an online site. He held the camera phone to the side, hoping for an impressive reaction.
One moment Sharon was desperately trying to get enough friction from Trevor’s teasing cock to cum. The next instant, she was wide mouthed, struggling to breathe. It seemed that every muscle from her diaphragm to her knees was clenched, cramping painfully at the same moment that she was cumming and cumming impossibly hard. Her focus narrowed, until she was aware of how the big football star was applying pressure… stimulating clit and G-spot simultaneously and without pause. She found her voice, loudly crying out, nearly screaming, the words gibberish as she tried to urge Zeke to fuck her harder while simultaneously begging him to wait.
There was a strange noise, she realized as she quieted… an irregular splashing. She opened her eyes, looking into the mirror for the first time to watch as Trevor went on filming what was happening with his camera phone. It was not pointed at her face, though, and only then did Sharon look down her body to see the fountain of liquid erupting from her sex. She lunged up, impaling herself on Zeke’s big cock as she tried unsuccessfully to get her new pants out of the impossible flow of honey. Trevor caught her hips, though, having released the pressure he had been applying. Sharon barely managed to catch hold of the sink edge again as the young man began to thrust into her almost violently again for a moment before he held himself inside of her, panting with his release.
Despite her awareness that her pants were a mess, Sharon came again, as well. When the young tough pulled out a moment later, she leaned fully on the sink for a moment, struggling to calm her breath.
“Not supposed to cum… inside,” she panted. Trevor snorted.
“That didn’t stop you yesterday,” he taunted her, “And I hear you safe, so long as it’s just us BZ.” Sharon blushed, trying to remember if she had told Shaun or Dave about the IUD. Reaching down, she found that her pants were thoroughly soaked. Before she could say a word, though, Zeke had her by the elbow, half dragging her in an arc until she was standing in front of the toilet. He held her up with one hand, pointing the camera at her from where he stood to the side.
“Pee!” he ordered. Sharon blushed, certain she had just peed herself as he had fucked her.
“I can’t,” she managed, “I already did.” He laughed.
“Oh no, little bitch,” he taunted, “That wasn’t pee… Now go ahead.”
“Let me sit down,” she could not believe what he was doing. He shook her.
“What do you do when you’re given an order by a BZ Brother?” Sharon swallowed, then tried to focus on her bladder… It still felt full, the realized with some surprise. A moment later, a wide irregular stream of urine arced from her sex into the toilet. “Good slut,” Trevor teased, “See, I told you it wasn’t pee.” He let go, still filming as Sharon wavered, liberally peeing over the toilet seat, in a parody of peeing like a man. It was almost straight down after the first aching arc of pale yellow fluid, but she was getting it into the toilet, she realized with surprise and pride. She looked up, smiling in her surprise, and barely aware that Trevor was still recording. “We do that a couple more times and you’ll be so good at it you’ll soak the bed when you play with yourself,” he taunted, while tucking himself in one handed. Sharon hesitated when the stream stopped… unsure what she should do. “We shake it,” Trevor taunted, and the white housewife responded with a hip shimmy and a lewd smile, all of it on the surprisingly high resolution of Trevor’s phone.
Without waiting for Sharon, the big ballplayer moved to the bathroom door, “Thanks, slut… I don’t want to miss the end of my movie…” Sharon gasped, throwing herself away from the opening as Trevor opened it.
“Wait!” she nearly shouted, quieting the plea at the last in case it attracted more attention from whoever was outside.
“What, you want to leave with me?” Trevor offered that maddening smile, “I think that might draw some attention.”
“I can’t go out like this!” Sharon had pulled her track pants up, aware that the entire front was soaked with her fluids. Trevor shrugged, looking out the still open door.
“Ain’t nobody coming right now,” he shrugged, still smiling, “Go on back in, then spill your drink on your fine cunt.” And then he stepped out and disappeared. By the time Sharon got to the closing door, he had already slipped back into the theater. Glancing left and right, she verified what he had said… there was nobody nearby. As she exited, though, an employee turned into the corridor, fortunately coming from the direction opposite where she was headed. She tried to guess how long they had been in there… 10 minutes? It was a relief that the movie was still running when she got back inside. After letting her eyes adjust for a moment, she hesitantly made her way back to the others, praying it stayed dark enough to hide her wet pants. And that there was still something in the glass.
“Thought you’d fallen in,” Chris teased when she settled beside him again.
“What have I missed?” Sharon managed, trying not to let on that she was sitting in wet pants with another man’s cum leaking from her just fucked seam… She was horrified that she had not taken time to clean up. Chris was oblivious, whispering the few things she had missed. She was relieved that they had not been going at it for very long after all, even as she found herself wondering how long it would be before she would need to cum again. She bit her lip as the memory of the climax she had just had threatened to begin to build her arousal right then and there. Sharon was nearly vibrating at just the memory of the intensity of her climax, and how utterly she had lost control of herself.
Realizing that the film was coming to an end, she grabbed the drink, dismayed at how light it felt, as she feigned taking a drink, loosening the lid at the same time. She moved it back to the cup holder, then ‘clumsily’ put it down, so that it tipped, spilling the little remaining soda and the ice into her lap. Chris jumped at her choked squeal-- it was cold-- then laughed as Sharon tried to bat the flat squares of ice out of her lap. But that easily Sharon Sobel managed to avoid a second near disastrous discovery of just what she had become by her ******, and in barely more than twenty four hours.
***
Chris thought she was quiet on the ride home merely because she was embarrassed about having soaked her new pants. And he had to admit, he told her with a smile, she had done a good job-- he had not thought there was that much left, although the glasses were simply huge. Sharon spent the trip wondering if she should go back to school before the break was over to keep her ****** from discovering she had become a complete slut. And Trevor’s words echoed in her ears… would she squirt like that the next time she and Chris made love?
She took a long shower when they got home, cautiously playing with herself, then masturbating in earnest to a satisfying climax which did not include another flood, before she put on the sweats that had become her usual attire and went back down to the ******. Chris seemed moody when she arrived, and she wondered about it when he asked if she had just forgotten to tell him. Puzzled, she shook her head, answering that she had no idea what he was talking about… while wondering if he had gotten an email with a clip of her behaving like a wanton slut or a package with a DVD or something.
Kelly breezed into the room, then, apologizing to Chris, and insisting that she had ‘forgotten to tell Sharon,’ so Sharon could not have forgotten to tell him. Puzzled, Sharon listened as Kelly elaborated… there was a call for any available BZ Sisters to help with a Christmas charity push, and Kelly had volunteered she and Sharon. Of course, Sharon was able to read between the lines… Dave had some more plans for them for the night… Christmas night! She told Chris Kelly was just doing what they were all supposed to do-- helping whenever they could-- and apologized, promising they would be back as quickly as possible, suggesting the others get Chinese if she and Kelly were not back before dinner. She eyed her friend and lover as she asked, and Kelly shrugged, explaining that she had no idea how long it was going to take, just that they were supposed to be there before 5. She handed Sharon a bag, and Sharon glanced inside, relieved to find a mid thigh skirt and a nice short sleeved polo shirt in the school colors with a proper little BZ logo. She ducked into the bedroom to change, unsurprised at the hip hugging BZ panties that were included, except that they covered more than the usual thongs she wore.
When she was ready, she went out, apologizing again, although Chris waved it away, offering his own, and insisting that he was glad they were helping out others who were less fortunate.
As they were preparing to leave, though, he came out to the car, standing in the open door to Sharon’s Range Rover, which kept Sharon from asking Kelly what the hell Dave had planned. He seemed suddenly at a loss for words, and after a moment he simply reached into his suit jacket and handed Sharon a professionally wrapped gift box… It was longer than her hand but narrow and thin.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he said, “I know you wanted me home last night… It’s silly that I’d be upset at this… I’d just hoped to be able to give this to you at dinner…” Sharon’s hands were shaking in relief as much as excitement as she tore the paper away. Inside was a piece to match the tri color diamond earrings he had put in her stocking that morning. She took it out, amazed at how expensive it had to have been, and started to put it around her wrist, but it was clearly too big, and there were no links without jewels that could be removed. “Shar,” Chris smiled, “I didn’t think you’d wear it every day if it was a bracelet… it won’t match everything,” he glanced at Kelly, who was nodding, “At least, that’s what the expert told me… So it’s an anklet.” Sharon smiled, nodding.
“It’s beautiful!” she leapt out of the car to hug her husband, “I love it… I love you!” She climbed back into the big SUV and perched sideways in her seat so that Chris could affix it around her right ankle-- the opposite of the ankle where the delicate tattoo had been placed a few months before. When she put her foot back in under the wheel she looked down, then smiled at Chris, “It even sparkles here in the car… Thank you, baby!” She kissed him, reminded him he had ‘one more gift to unwrap’ so he shouldn’t go to sleep, and then reluctantly she and Kelly waved and pulled out of the drive before Sharon took a chance to ask what was happening. Kelly responded by showing her an address.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “But we aren’t s’posed to have our costumes or make up, so probably won’t be another club.” Sharon nodded, angry that the thought of ‘dancing’ for strangers had started to arouse her. The address was farther east, actually across the state line, on one of the streets Sharon had often heard about… Reality was at least as unsettling, as they passed scantily clad women standing along the streets, interspersed with hard young black men wearing hoodies and crouching on steps or leaning against cars. Stopped at a light, Sharon watched a car pull up to one. The driver handed something out his window, then pulled ahead slowly as the small boy who had taken the money scampered through a doorway into the blackness beyond. At the other end of the building, the car stopped and a second even younger boy appeared, delivering something to the driver who then pulled away.
“That was a drug buy,” she murmured in shock. Kelly snorted.
“You missed the trick on this side,” she pointed to the tail end of an old Ford sedan as it disappeared into the alley. Sharon realized that the overweight black woman with pink hair she had noticed as they rolled to the light was no longer standing on the street. For a moment she imagined Shaun and Dave having she and Kelly work like that on the street. She shuddered, trying to reassure herself that she would never do that, no matter what they threatened to do to her.
She was acutely aware of the steady gaze of almost all as they drove past, and the pause before the light turned took entirely too long. “One of my friends used to work at Eisenhower hospital down here,” she told Kelly, “She told me they said at orientation that driving home at night they should not stop at the lights if there wasn’t cross traffic.” Kelly just nodded, watching out her side window as they pulled through the intersection. “Dammit, he should tell us what we’re going to be doing.” She hit the steering wheel, “Men can be such assholes.” Kelly snorted, reaching over to squeeze Sharon’s thigh reassuringly. She left her hand midway up Sharon’s thigh, and the arousal that had been searching for a trigger rushed forward once again. Sharon took a ragged breath. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” Kelly just squeezed her thigh again.
“What happened today?” she asked at the next intersection. Sharon blushed, “Was it that obvious?” “No,” Kelly laughed, “Except when you took a drink before you left I could tell it was empty, so that wasn’t how your pants got all wet.” Sharon giggled, “I’m glad Chris isn’t as observant, but he was ogling that brunette in the movie.” It was Kelly’s turn to laugh at that. She proceeded to explain how Trevor had appeared out of nowhere, and what he’d done to Sharon in the ****** bathroom in less than ten minutes.
“You’re shitting me!” Kelly shook her head, “I don’t know where to begin… You peed standing up?” Sharon laughed. “Yep, and it actually worked out ok… I suspect I have to stand closer than men do, and it sprays more toward the end, but if you’re not sitting down… hell, I might do that whenever I have to pee in public from now on,” she wrinkled her nose, “Public toilets are gross.”
“How did it feel?” Kelly asked.
“Peeing standing up?” Sharon considered that for a second, “Actually pretty… liberating… naughty.” “No, silly,” Kelly rolled her eyes, “When he got you off.” “Oh,” Sharon considered that… “It was like I was having a whole body cramp… which should have hurt, but I was cumming, too, you know?” Kelly nodded, “Honestly I wasn’t even aware it was happening at first, and then I was sure I was peeing, since I had needed to go when we were starting.” “Well, it was impressive,” Kelly admitted, “Your pants were soaked.” “I know… I was sure someone would be able to smell it and know what had really happened.” “Your secret’s safe with me… this left here, I think…” They turned into the back parking lot of what looked like a church. “Are you sure this is right?” Sharon asked, eyeing the stained glass windows… There were lights on inside, and an array of cars, some nearly as nice as her Range Rover.
Before Kelly could respond, there was a rap on the driver’s window, making both women jump. A parking lot guard had come up from Sharon’s blind spot.
“Help you ma’am?” the middle aged dark skinned man asked politely, revealing bad teeth. Sharon looked down, seeing his name plate, which read Juan Robles.
“Uhm, we’re looking for,” Sharon glanced at Kelly, who read the address off of her phone. The man blinked, staring at Sharon for another moment before he looked past her to Kelly. He seemed to relax then.
“Oh sure,” he smiled at them, “They’s expecting you. G’wan up,” “Uhm, ok, but where should we park?” Sharon found her anxiety increasing at the prospect of their going inside. She was unsure why. “Heer,” the man waved to the other cars, “You go een. I weel keep it safe.” Nodding, Sharon reluctantly got out of her car, leaving it running, and taking Kelly’s hand, they started up the low concrete steps climbing the berm of sparsely grass covered earth separating the parking lot from the big building. Though not a religiously devout, Sharon had always respected organized religion and did believe that there was Something out there. Somehow the idea of taking part of anything Dave had planned inside a church seemed terribly wrong.
But even so, Sharon could not deny that each step closer ratcheted her arousal a bit higher. “I am such a slut,” she murmured. “What?” Kelly asked, clutching at Sharon’s arm as evidence of her own uncertainty. “Nothing,” Sharon shook her head, “Maybe they’re going to want me to squirt for the congregation as a baptism.” The women laughed at that as they reached the top step and approached the double glass door allowing entry. It was locked, and despite the fact that it was still light outside, Sharon felt very vulnerable. Suddenly she wanted to be inside. A tall, robed black man with a shaven head appeared, wordlessly allowing them entrance, and then with a gesture, leading them along an almost blacked out hall. The women looked at one another, neither daring to speak.
After making several turns… enough Sharon doubted she could find her way back outside, the silent guide waved them into a dimly lit room. Sharon could tell there were others inside. But it was so dark she could not make out any detail. Trying to appear calm and self assured, she stepped through the doorway, keeping hold of Kelly’s hand. She was aware of an intermittent noise… a low humming… almost sing song. And there was a rhythmic component too that she could not place.
She nearly screamed when hands caught hold of her, separating her from Kelly. She wondered how they could be so unerring as she was led deeper into the black room, and then after someone put her hand on a table standing before her, gestures made it plain she was to disrobe. She did so, leaving her clothing and purse on the table before being led away. At the next stop, she was handed something… feeling it, she could identify legs including zippers at the calf. The material was heavy and stiff. She reluctantly pulled them on, unsurprised to find they were crotchless, and trying not to be affected at how tightly the material clung to her skin everywhere it touched. Hands pulled a zipper at the back she had not seen, and Sharon imagined she could never get it off without help.
She was nudged along, and at the next stop a similar top was tugged into place… long sleeved, with harder pockets into which her hands came to rest, offering her no means of gripping anything. More hidden zippers were tugged, and she felt real fear, knowing that it was not just a sense of helplessness-- her only way out of the clothing would be with someone’s help. She tried to see through the blackness… was this happening to Kelly, too? At least she had not heard her friend protest, and so Sharon resolved to be as brave.
At the next station a heavy cloak was draped over her shoulders, followed by what felt like an equally heavy and oppressive helmet or hood. The material smelled oily, and abruptly Sharon realized it was rubber, like the wet suit she had worn when she had gone scuba diving with Chris and the kids several years before. The material was so tight against her ears that it was hard to hear anything beyond a roar that reminded her of listening to a seashell. And there was pressure against her eyes, her lashes brushing against something that was in front of them. There was a dulled but clearly metallic ‘snap’ and then something tugged at the front of her neck; not painful, but nothing she could ignore…
The white housewife padded along, keeping slack in the line, for a longer time than had been true before. She was almost sure there was light around her; it seemed like a small amount of light leaked around the tight seal of the rubber pressed against her eyes. She was more aware of the touch of air where the rubber did not cover, and knew that the top she wore had open cups, her breasts only partially covered by the shifting robe that had been put on before the mask. She tried to stay calm as hands yanked her hair though some defect in the rubber above and behind her ears. Hands caught her right calf, lifting her leg, then setting it into the well, she guessed of boots. The angle her foot took was just short of painful, and she could not imagine how high the heel had to be, but she was powerless to stop it from happening as zips or buckles cinched the shoe into place and the calf of her leggings was zipped closed over it.
At a tug from the leash, Sharon moved forward, feeling very like an insect as she carefully moved each foot, unsure how much contact she had with the ground. Much of her weight was on the fronts of her shins, the shoes were so severely angled. She became aware others were moving in the same way to either side. They were stopped once again, and a straw was pushed to her mouth. She took a sip, then at a yank of the leash she began to drink as quickly as she could, by then reassured at the sweet familiar taste of a Mind Eraser. She realized she was smelling weed, and inhaled hungrily, having not been high since returning for break. She had finished a second drink and had been enjoying the smoke for several minutes before she was led forward once again… or maybe sideways, she thought and giggled. When she stopped moving, make up was applied almost brusquely, including something cold applied to her breasts and sex before she and the others were again brought along by their leashes.
Though muffled by the mask, the sounds changed as she and at least two others carefully moved up in a spiral… a ramp, she realized, glad they were not taking steps… and the next moment having to carefully negotiate three wide low steps before being brought to a halt. There were echoes, and Sharon was certain she had been brought into the main room… the sanctuary, she thought with a giggle that a yank on the leash cut off short. She was aware of the others… more than just two, shifting nervously beside her.
The air felt alive with pulsing sound… low chanting and a rhythmic beat. Helpless before it, the overwhelming feeling Sharon got was of sexual potency. She gasped as her nipples and clit began to burn, the sensation triggering a series of the deeper ’TWANG’ she was long used to, each pushing her arousal a notch higher. The was led forward again, the light so bright when they stopped that Sharon could make out movement around her. Her thighs came to a stop against a rail, higher than the communion rail she remembered being in most churches. Her feet were kicked apart, and the blonde housewife struggled to maintain her balance on the tiny footprints of the heels as her feet were forcibly placed slightly more than shoulder width. There was a tug on the leash, and Sharon bent at the waist over the rail.
When the tugging on the leash stopped, she tried to raise up, but found that the lead had been fixed somewhere ahead of her, anchoring her in the lewd straight legged bent over position. She already wished it was more of a table than the rail, her abdominal muscles protesting holding her torso in that position. There was movement around her, the same pressure, air currents, and rhythm, vibrating up from the floor. Hands came to rest on the sides of her mask after another minute, and abruptly the smoked lenses were lifted, unblocking her vision.
Sharon winced at the kaleidoscope of light. There were bright fluorescent lights being shone through stained glass panels that were rotating, casting an eerie spectral color show over everything. Other lights reflected off of a mirror ball like those she remembered from the roller rink, where it was rotating on the floor. All of it was painfully bright, even the candles she could see flickering around the room.
And the movement she had seen before was she assumed BZ members, though they were dressed in strange feather and leather costumes, which reminded her of the International Geographic pictures of African tribes. The men-- they were all men, she quickly noted-- moved in a steady choreographed manner, clapping hands, slapping one another’s hands, and stomping, then spinning, muscular legs describing intricate patterns before there was more clapping. There was a steady low chant she heard through the mask, the overall impression so powerfully sexual her burning nipples and sex seemed to pulse in time with their language.
The men were masked, and Sharon could see that there were more women than she had thought arrayed in a circle in various positions… Every other woman was bent at the waist as she was. The intervening women leaned on their backs against the rail, or lay on their belly or back on the floor. There were markings on the forehead of each of the women Sharon could see… 9 of them without turning her head, which she chose not to do, not wanting to earn any punishment. The symbols were small, but they were clearly different, and she wondered if this was representative Sisters from other regional frats. Between each pair of posing women stood a Sister in a black hooded robe. They kept their heads down, the hood masking their identities.
There was a gap in the rail between the woman across from her and the semi-reclining woman to her immediate left. Sharon noticed the men were moving purposefully, circling one clockwise, the next counterclockwise around the inside of the circle of women, maintaining their careful movement, following the drum cadence. Glistening black skin interrupted the light hitting the mirror ball, changing the shadows, the light somehow emphasizing the color of their skin, even in the swirling colored lighting. It was erotic, and Sharon’s need to get off was taking over her focus.
The cadence changed after a minute, and the men passing before Sharon swung short leather braids on wooden sticks in planned arcs, one after another. She gasped at the tickle, and then the subsequent sting as the men moving behind her began to land the tip on her ass…
And then the crops were stretching out, slapping at her bare, hanging breasts, as well. She missed the change because of that the first time one of the dancers moved past close behind, his thighs brushing her ass. She shivered, trying to push back, welcoming the contact, wanting more. The men smoothly pivoting in front of her, she realized were no longer wearing their loin cloths.. Her eyes saw bobbing, swinging black cocks… most at least semi-erect, and the pressure of the masculine hips pressing against her ass every few seconds quickly made the white housewife anxious for more.
She did not have long to wait… With impressive synchronicity the men moving behind the circled bound women pivoted, stepping forward, and unerringly hammering their erections into the helpless BZ Bitches. A mewling cry rose from 16 female throats, though Sharon was only aware of her own scream. She nearly came on that first incredible stroke, but then the man was gone, her sex empty and hungry for contact. A few rhythmic beats later, and the process was repeated by a different cock. Sharon pressed back, her body responding to the invasion, hungry for more. He was already gone, though.
She struggled to ignore that need, focused on the beat… counted. On the eighth a new shaft drove into her, the brutal thrust of the man opposite the circle into one of her sisters an exact reflection. It continued, a single full thrust every eight beats, maddeningly slow. Sharon twitched her bottom, hungry for the contact as the fourth or fifth cock prepared to lance into her. Her initiative was punished, the silent woman she had forgotten standing out of sight to her side smartly whipping the bare edge of her ass with a crop. Sharon froze, and the thrust an instant later was more overwhelming because of it. She barely managed to keep from crying out, and on the next eight beat, there was a plaintive cry from across the circle to her left. The hooded female sentinel spun and almost magically affixed a ball gag over the helpless woman’s mouth, then snapped the goggles back into place as an added punishment. Sharon guessed that most of the other women could see that, and somehow even the girls to either side, who could not have seen, somehow realized that their silence was demanded for the strange ceremony.
She wondered if they were supposed to be trying to get the men off, ‘weeding them out’ as she had at the Christmas party, but even being able to anticipate each thrust, the men were inside of her too briefly for her to really work them with her pelvic floor muscles, and she was afraid to shift after being punished and having seen how one of her sister’s had been corrected. She knew the men were moving in a pattern, around the outside and crossing through the middle in both directions, a sort of figure 8 or yin and yang pattern. For a time she tried to count how many, but with the costumes, and the lights and the movement none looked so different that she could be certain of the number… She guessed there were 16 women in the circle, and with nearly that many men crossing the center, it could easily be 40 men.
To be continued part 15D2
Chapter 15 D: The Ball
Original Story: Scipio
Continued by Rogue Alan
If Christmas eve was a bust for the Sobel ****** in Sharon’s opinion, Christmas day made up for it. She had no idea when the kids got home, or when Chris slipped into bed beside her. And the kids, no longer children, enjoyed sleeping in, after which they worked together with Kelly to put the cinnamon rolls Flora had made into the oven, digging the coffee maker out of a cupboard instead of the Keurig they usually used. Sharon woke to the delightful aroma of a breakfast already made. She snuggled against Chris, glad to be home with her ******, and woke her husband with a kiss.
“Kids made breakfast,” she murmured, aware of a headache like she had forgotten experiencing often during the semester, the calling card of the frequent hangovers she had experienced for the first time after heading to college. She blinked, looking at the ceiling for a moment, head spinning at how the things she had vowed to do only at school were creeping into her life here at home. She wondered for a moment if she had really been such a slut at the club the night before, absently worrying the bar in her tongue over her teeth. She remembered the power and pleasure she had felt sucking off that stranger…
Pushing the thought away, Sharon glanced at the clock, “thankfully after 10AM.” Chris mumbled in reply, and Sharon elbowed his ribs, thankfully glad he was no more eager to get up. She almost giggled, wondering if he was hung over, too. “C’mon, Scrooge… once upon at time we were up at the crack of dawn.”
“Once upon a time you were up at the crack of dawn,” Chris countered, blinking his eyes and stretching, “I was the one still up at the crack of dawn. There was the year I was assembly a mountain bike that only had French and Chinese directions… and the year Catherine ‘had to have’ that enormous doll house. Some assembly required my ass… There was the year I stayed up keeping the dog quiet…”
“My prince charming,” Sharon giggled, rolling half over her husband to kiss him, “And they loved all of those gifts.” A moment later, she squealed as he swatted her naked bottom after she had gracefully completed turning over him, getting out of the bed on his side to use the bathroom.
“You’re running off with my gift!” he pouted. Sharon giggled,
“It’s not wrapped, yet.”
“I don’t mind,” Chris waggled his eyebrows, “The wrapping never stays on long, anyway.” She thought for a moment she might get to enjoy some private time with her husband, who was obviously enjoying the fact that she had gone to bed nude, when there was a knock on the door.
“Mom? ***?” Lisa paused, “Are you up yet?” It was Sharon’s turn to pout, which made her husband smile.
“We’ll be right out, hon’,” he assured her, then whispered, “See, you should have let me enjoy my gift.” Sharon leapt back onto the bed, knocking Chris against his pillow.
“They could wait,” Sharon kissed Chris’ neck, grinding her dampening sex against his morning erection, “It’s still early.”
“Oh no,” he teased, “They’re ready to open presents now…” He kissed her, before slipping out of bed, “But I’m glad to see you got me just what I wanted for Christmas…” Sharon giggled, leaning over and catching hold of Chris’ hips before he could move away from the bed. Curling her body as if he was the pole on stage, she managed to spin herself off of the bed and around in front of him, hands deftly yanking his sleep pants down over his erection, the elastic band yanking his cock down momentarily, making him yelp. Any protest died with a gurgle as Sharon sucked him fully into her mouth, swirling the tongue stud over the sensitive underside while bobbing her head slightly, never releasing the vacuum.
“Oh God,” Chris panted, a hand coming to rest gently on Sharon’s bobbing head, “That’s… You’re…” Within a minute she felt the change; her husband rose onto his toes, fingers tangling in her hair. “I’m… It’s close,” he managed, actually shivering when Sharon’s response was to bury her face against his crotch, holding him deep as her tongue went on swirling magically. “Ahhhh!” he cunt loose, wondering for an absurd moment if he could accidentally choke his wife, before gasping as her reflexive swallows applied a different but undeniably pleasurable sensation to his still firing cock.
Sharon kept with him until he was spent and nearly soft before she flopped back onto her elbows on the plush carpet, smiling up at him. “Merry Christmas, Scrooge,” she said, then giggled as he awkwardly pulled his pants back up while staring at her in open wonder. “What?” she pouted, “Wasn’t that what you wanted for Christmas?” He laughed.
“It’s part of it anyway.”
“Mmmm,” Sharon said without thinking, “Something like a stocking stuffer?” She licked her lips, eyeing his crotch suggestively, “I hope you’re willing to do some stuffing later on.” Chris’ smile was priceless… she was not sure if he had ever looked as happy with any other gift she had ever given him, and found herself wondering again how she had been such a prude for so many years.
“You are amazing,” he padded to the bathroom, pausing to look back, “And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” She sat up, smiling, knowing that he meant it.
“No, baby,” she shook her head, “That’s me.” Chris rolled his eyes and disappeared. When he reappeared as the toilet gurgled behind him, he offered her a crooked smile,
“That’s one way to keep from my having difficulty going to the bathroom after you tease me in the morning.” Sharon had gone into her closet, exiting in a white on pink variation of school sweat bottoms and a black and silver hoodie with the mascot on the front. “That’s what I was thinking,” she nodded, “Now hurry up and get something on… We need to get downstairs.”
With the swirling activity… kids eating and laughing and talking, then helping as she cleared the dishes before everyone went in for presents, Sharon had no time to consider that she had not yet gotten off that morning. And then everyone was in the living room where the stockings had been laid out. Sharon was surprised when Chris brought her stocking over… often he had not bothered with more than a rose or a note, but she had genuine packages, wrapped even. She smiled up at him pointing for him to get his stocking, too, and asking if Catherine had helped. He affected an injured air, then laughed,
“Both she and Kelly helped me… They took me shopping, then wrapped things up.” Intrigued, Sharon divided her attention between watching the kids’ happy reactions to the various tickets and gift cards and headsets and body lotion she had selected for them, and the new multifunction Casio watch she had found at the Union for Chris. Kelly and Catherine ambushed her, hugging from each side and demanding that she open her gifts.
She found red glass bottles of lotion and massage oil labeled ‘sensuality’ and asked Chris if he thought Santa was trying to tell her something, which earned her a wink and a shrug. There were several Apple and Starbucks gift cards, gas cards, along with a new Tervis travel mug with the school mascot on one side. There were nice earrings with small black and white and champagne diamonds in a swirling matrix of white and yellow gold. As she put them on, the thought that they went nicely with the BZ jewelry.
They moved on to the tree and Kelly and Catherine happily passed out packages, Chris suggesting everyone wait until the packages had been distributed, and then taking turns… Taking turns lasted until each of the kids and Kelly began to open one of the packages Sharon had arranged for everyone, including Chris… Nikon DS3100 camera packages. At that point the kids-- and Chris-- were poking around, wondering what the other similar shaped packages might be, racing to see who could find out.
Sharon laughed, when she opened the gift from the kids… an identical camera kit, including a flash, a bag, and two lenses.
“We saw you looking that those and thought you wanted one,” Scott told her, “I hope you like it.” She nodded, thrilled, “I almost got one for myself, honestly,” she said, “They take video, too, so we won’t have to drag the boxy camcorder along…” She paused, seeing Chris react as if she had said something wrong. Looking at her array of packages, she found a box similar to the one she had just unwrapped, but slightly smaller. Grabbing it, she tore at the package, already certain what it was… Sure enough, a new Sony HD camcorder sat in her lap.
“We can take it back,” Chris said sheepishly, “I just thought you’d want some mementos from school and I still use the one we have for the kids’ things here at school.” Sharon moved around the boxes, giggling and sat in Chris’ lap.
“It’s perfect,” she said, “I love it… And it’s smaller than the camera, so I can carry it in my purse anywhere I go. Thanks, baby.” She kissed him , wiggling her bottom just slightly, and giggling as his eyes bulged. “Get a room,” Scott groused, then laughed when both girls hurled fragments of gift wrap at him. The orgy of gift unwrapping resumed. Sharon was impressed at her haul, including three nice outfits and a Dillard’s gift card. Even the track suit, which Chris seemed hell bent on buying her each year, was something she would wear without hesitation. And one of the dresses, a red one shoulder sequined number, was absolutely outrageous. In fact, she wondered if Chris would feel like he had gotten the short end of the stick, but he truly seemed to love the watch and his other gifts.
When the gifts were all opened, the Sobels and Kelly went back into the kitchen to dig into the pumpkin, cherry, pecan, and French silk chocolate pies that Flora had left. The housekeepers gifts, both new equipment for caring for the house and true gifts and gift cards she could enjoy when she was not working, had been left under the tree, and they would celebrate again later in the week, when she returned. Sharon had asked about the other gifts under the tree, and the kids had shrugged, saying only that they had some presents for ‘friends.’
While they were haggling over who got to cut and who got to choose what pie pieces, she slipped back into the tree, picking up her new camera in case anyone asked what she was up to. She was not surprised to see ‘Z’ scrawled on one of the packages, with Scott’s angular handwriting. Seeing the same initial in Catherine’s elegant cursive though, left Sharon unsettled. She bit her lip, wondering if it could be jealousy she was feeling. Mentally scolding herself, she silently insisted it was only concern over what kind of boy he was… she had first hand knowledge, after all. Of course, she could not very well say, ‘Honey, you shouldn’t date him… he is cruel and dominating and demanding during sex.’ Shivering, and embarrassed at the way her clit sparked at the thought of the big high school senior, Sharon returned to the festivities, wondering how she could put a roadblock between Zeke and her ********.
After everyone had eaten and the gifts had been packed away to respective rooms, the wrapping stuffed into a pair of garbage bags that Chris had set in the garage by the trashcan, Sharon expected they would enjoy a lazy day snacking and watching television. She was surprised when Catherine and Scott came in, asking if they could see a movie. Kelly and Catherine wanted to see ‘How Do You Know’ which Scott panned as being another ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ the blonde actress bedding several men and choosing among the best of them. He wanted to see True Grit, instead, the western remake that made both girls wrinkle their nose in distaste. Chris suggested Tron Legacy, which he insisted the kids would like, too. Looking at the offerings, Sharon suggested Gulliver’s Travels, which made everyone else laugh, the kids reminding her they weren’t really kids any more.
They settled on the 1:15 showing of the third installment of the DeNiro Stiller vehicle, ‘Little Fockers.’ Piling into Sharon’s Range Rover, the ****** laughed and listened to the Christmas carols playing on every station as Chris drove to the nearby multiplex. Sharon barely registered that Chris had said they were meeting friends until she saw Trevor and several other young men standing out front of the theater. There was a mix of letter jackets, and she guessed that the game had jump started several friendships. Several of the young men had little girls fawning over them, she noticed, embarrassed at how her body had responded, seeing the big football player. Leaning over, she wrapped her arms through Chris’, smiling up at him, telling herself nothing strange would happen.
When she found out that Chris’ friends were not all seeing the Fockers, anyway, but several of the movies, all of which started within a few minutes of one another, she was relieved and yet slightly disappointed. Trevor had barely glanced her way, and while she had been happy he would not try to get her to have sex with all of the other assembled boys with her ****** right there, there was the undeniable bit of arousal at just the thought of it.
Chris got their tickets while she and the kids loaded up on popcorn tubs and enormous glasses of soda. She was a little surprised at how busy the theater was, but vaguely remembered reading somewhere that many families took advantage of the day together and with most stores closed to see a film together. The trailers ran, and Sharon managed to forget about the other people in the theater as she held Chris’ hand. The more… adult moment of the movie struck a little too close to home, and she leaned over, whispering, “I’m glad we didn’t try to do that at home.” Chris chuckled, and was busy enough watching the screen he did not see as Sharon’s eyes glazed , the housewife remembering what had happened in the hospital bathroom. By the time she shook herself back to the present, she had missed a significant part of the film, and she was so wet she was surprised everyone around them could not detect the scent of her arousal. Her clit was sparking steadily, and after squirming in her seat, unsuccessfully trying to ignore it, she knew she had to take care of it. For a moment she considered pulling her husband’s hand to her needing crotch, but reasoned he would be too surprised, and worried about whether she could keep from screaming if he did begin to finger her there in the theater. She leaned over to Chris.
“That pop went right through me,” she whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom.” Chris nodded, fixated on the beautiful brunette nearly throwing herself at Ben Stiller. Sharon got out of her seat, managing not to press her hand against her wanting sex as she hurried out of the dark theater. Kelly and her ******** made no move to join her, although she saw Kelly, who glanced away long enough to wink at her fellow BZ Bitch and lesbian lover. The casual intimacy, right there by the rest of her ******, spurred Sharon’s arousal.
The bathrooms were a distance away along either end of the long corridor, the nearer sign opposite the theater entrance and concession stand. Sharon hurried, aware that she had not been lying entirely to Chris-- she needed to pee as well as cum. As she neared the open doors for the bathrooms, though, the door to the nearest theater opened and Zeke stepped out, smiling at her as if he had somehow known she was coming. Sharon blinked in surprise, looking around to find with a mixture of relief and anxiety that the corridor was otherwise empty. He clit sparked, TWANG.
“Need something?” the big football player taunted her. Sharon took a halting step toward the bathroom. “You know,” he continued, maneuvering alongside of her, and then between her and the bathroom, “I’m still hot from that show you put on in the basement yesterday.” It seemed to Sharon he must be shouting. She looked around again, then glared at young man barely older than her son.
“I can’t do that here,” she hissed, “We’ll get caught. I’m not going in the men’s room, Trevor.” And yet, her body was nearly screaming for her to simply bend over and let him take her there in the corridor. “You’ll get in trouble if you go into the ladies’ room.” He shrugged damnably cocksure.
“Well, it might be worth it, or don’t you remember, Mrs. Sobel?” he said, and smiled more broadly when Sharon blushed although admitting nothing. “I’ll take that as a yes… In fact, you look like you’re just about desperate. I bet,” he adjusted himself suggestively, “If I pulled it out you’d blow me right here.” Sharon barely restrained her whimper, aware that he was most likely right. She needed to cum so badly she could barely think straight. “I mean, seemed okay fucking in your basement yesterday…” He laughed at the way the helpless white housewife’s body spasmed. She was good and hooked, all right. And she was hot as hell, so he was happy Dave had given him Kelly’s cell number. The little brunette was going to be fun, too, but he wanted to play more with this hottie… He had already told Dave he would soon enough be able to compare mother and ********. He caught her elbow, “I think we can find a solution, though.”
Sharon let the strong young man guide her through the door between the bathrooms, labeled ‘******.’ She had never paid attention to it before, her kids have been old enough to go on their own before such rooms had come into vogue. He smiled as she took in the small space… a toilet with room to maneuver a wheelchair, a sink and mirror, and on the opposite wall a baby changing station, harshly lit by fluorescent bulbs, the speckled tile floor designed to hide stains. It was nicer than the hospital bathroom, she thought absently, that memory spurring her arousal. She knew they had to act quickly if this was going to happen; she wished she knew how much of the movie was left.
Without thinking about it, Sharon dropped into her working mode. She made sure the door was locked-- remembering that Donnie had not bothered with that, she had already adopted that simple protection. Turning, she found Trevor leaning against the sink, smirking at her. Though she was angry at his attitude, Sharon was also too hot to really argue. She dropped to her knees in front of him, deftly fishing his already semi-erect cock from his jeans, and plunging her mouth down on him, sucking hungrily and bobbing her head as well.
“Yeah, slut,” Trevor patted her head, then let her keep working, his camera phone recording a great POV segment of his cock pumping in and out of her lips, “Guess you were pretty hot after all.” Sharon did not respond, working him eagerly, her own need buzzing in her senses, amplified as she reached into her new track pants and began to finger her dripping sex. The need to have feel Trevor inside of her was intense, and she whined her need when he pulled her up by the hair a moment later, turning her away, the movement pulling his rigid cock from her mouth.
“Grab the sink,” he demanded, barely waiting as Sharon pushed the pants and her thong down before he moved up behind her. She expected him to spear into her… welcomed it, really. Instead, the muscular high school senior slipped his erection over her swollen, wanting sex, the crown of the bulbous tip brushing her clit as he pressed his hips against her bare ass, teasing her instead. Sharon twitched her hips, trying unsuccessfully to shift him inside of her sex. “Mmm,” Trevor teased, leaning down to nip at the back of Sharon’s neck, “So you want this, then?” Sharon nodded her head, bracing against the sink and pushing back, tilting her pelvis, desperate to feel him inside of her. He did not relent, teasing back and forth, pausing so she would think he was going to take her, then slipping past her drooling opening again and again. Then he backed up, until the heavy head of his cock was barely teasing against her thrusting bottom. “I didn’t hear you,” he said, while trying to hold his camera phone steady, catching the agonized arousal of the beautiful housewife in the mirror.
“Fuck me!” Sharon moaned, hips humping back at him uselessly, “Give me your cock.” The pressure she felt was incredible, a need she could not deny. “Fuck me, please!” Trevor waited again, until Sharon was sure he was going to go on teasing her, and wondering if she might go crazy waiting to cum. She gave a choked cry as he easily thrust his erection fully into her, pausing at the bottom of the stroke, letting her feel him, filling her up. Sharon whined in protest when he backed out, hands pressing against the front of the sink as she moved back, into his next thrust. His hips slapped against her ass, the sound filling the small room, and immediately repeated as he set a fast tempo, fucking into her in full strokes as fast as he could. Sharon twitched and moaned but met his thrusts, knuckles white on the black marble veneer of the sink. She was close… so close… somehow, though, his thrusting shaft was not getting her off.
She tilted her pelvis, wanting to feel him moving against her clit again, or to stroke her G-spot… Anything to get off. She heard his breath as he panted, the sound echoing in the room. “Spank me!” she gasped, “Fuck me harder, daddy!” Trevor backed out fully in answer, landing a stinging swat to the right side of her ass, which made Sharon gasp. She bobbed her naked ass at him lewdly, hungry to have him resume fucking her. “Don’t tease,” she whined, wondering how he so easily took control of her, when at Go’s she was the one making the men beg, “Please, Trevor… fuck me… let me cum.” He fed her his cock again, but slowly, laughing as she twitched and jerked on it. “No fair!” she whined, “Fuck me, please!”
“Shhh, slut,” Trevor chuckled, “Who knows who’s out there listening… Maybe hubby’s come looking for you. Ahhh,” he feigned a reaction, “That made your tight little cunt grab hold,” he taunted her, “You get off thinking of hubby finding you getting railed?” Sharon shook her head, and was horrified at the thought, but he had said her pussy responded… could she want Chris to find her like this? Before she could think it through, the younger man reached down around her naked haunch, his big hand coming to rest just below her pubic bone. He applied external pressure while driving into her hard and fast, tilting his pelvis so he could feel the head of his cock drag over the front of her vaginal vault as he buried himself. His long third finger dropped, applying pressure to her clit at the same time, something he had seen demonstrated on an online site. He held the camera phone to the side, hoping for an impressive reaction.
One moment Sharon was desperately trying to get enough friction from Trevor’s teasing cock to cum. The next instant, she was wide mouthed, struggling to breathe. It seemed that every muscle from her diaphragm to her knees was clenched, cramping painfully at the same moment that she was cumming and cumming impossibly hard. Her focus narrowed, until she was aware of how the big football star was applying pressure… stimulating clit and G-spot simultaneously and without pause. She found her voice, loudly crying out, nearly screaming, the words gibberish as she tried to urge Zeke to fuck her harder while simultaneously begging him to wait.
There was a strange noise, she realized as she quieted… an irregular splashing. She opened her eyes, looking into the mirror for the first time to watch as Trevor went on filming what was happening with his camera phone. It was not pointed at her face, though, and only then did Sharon look down her body to see the fountain of liquid erupting from her sex. She lunged up, impaling herself on Zeke’s big cock as she tried unsuccessfully to get her new pants out of the impossible flow of honey. Trevor caught her hips, though, having released the pressure he had been applying. Sharon barely managed to catch hold of the sink edge again as the young man began to thrust into her almost violently again for a moment before he held himself inside of her, panting with his release.
Despite her awareness that her pants were a mess, Sharon came again, as well. When the young tough pulled out a moment later, she leaned fully on the sink for a moment, struggling to calm her breath.
“Not supposed to cum… inside,” she panted. Trevor snorted.
“That didn’t stop you yesterday,” he taunted her, “And I hear you safe, so long as it’s just us BZ.” Sharon blushed, trying to remember if she had told Shaun or Dave about the IUD. Reaching down, she found that her pants were thoroughly soaked. Before she could say a word, though, Zeke had her by the elbow, half dragging her in an arc until she was standing in front of the toilet. He held her up with one hand, pointing the camera at her from where he stood to the side.
“Pee!” he ordered. Sharon blushed, certain she had just peed herself as he had fucked her.
“I can’t,” she managed, “I already did.” He laughed.
“Oh no, little bitch,” he taunted, “That wasn’t pee… Now go ahead.”
“Let me sit down,” she could not believe what he was doing. He shook her.
“What do you do when you’re given an order by a BZ Brother?” Sharon swallowed, then tried to focus on her bladder… It still felt full, the realized with some surprise. A moment later, a wide irregular stream of urine arced from her sex into the toilet. “Good slut,” Trevor teased, “See, I told you it wasn’t pee.” He let go, still filming as Sharon wavered, liberally peeing over the toilet seat, in a parody of peeing like a man. It was almost straight down after the first aching arc of pale yellow fluid, but she was getting it into the toilet, she realized with surprise and pride. She looked up, smiling in her surprise, and barely aware that Trevor was still recording. “We do that a couple more times and you’ll be so good at it you’ll soak the bed when you play with yourself,” he taunted, while tucking himself in one handed. Sharon hesitated when the stream stopped… unsure what she should do. “We shake it,” Trevor taunted, and the white housewife responded with a hip shimmy and a lewd smile, all of it on the surprisingly high resolution of Trevor’s phone.
Without waiting for Sharon, the big ballplayer moved to the bathroom door, “Thanks, slut… I don’t want to miss the end of my movie…” Sharon gasped, throwing herself away from the opening as Trevor opened it.
“Wait!” she nearly shouted, quieting the plea at the last in case it attracted more attention from whoever was outside.
“What, you want to leave with me?” Trevor offered that maddening smile, “I think that might draw some attention.”
“I can’t go out like this!” Sharon had pulled her track pants up, aware that the entire front was soaked with her fluids. Trevor shrugged, looking out the still open door.
“Ain’t nobody coming right now,” he shrugged, still smiling, “Go on back in, then spill your drink on your fine cunt.” And then he stepped out and disappeared. By the time Sharon got to the closing door, he had already slipped back into the theater. Glancing left and right, she verified what he had said… there was nobody nearby. As she exited, though, an employee turned into the corridor, fortunately coming from the direction opposite where she was headed. She tried to guess how long they had been in there… 10 minutes? It was a relief that the movie was still running when she got back inside. After letting her eyes adjust for a moment, she hesitantly made her way back to the others, praying it stayed dark enough to hide her wet pants. And that there was still something in the glass.
“Thought you’d fallen in,” Chris teased when she settled beside him again.
“What have I missed?” Sharon managed, trying not to let on that she was sitting in wet pants with another man’s cum leaking from her just fucked seam… She was horrified that she had not taken time to clean up. Chris was oblivious, whispering the few things she had missed. She was relieved that they had not been going at it for very long after all, even as she found herself wondering how long it would be before she would need to cum again. She bit her lip as the memory of the climax she had just had threatened to begin to build her arousal right then and there. Sharon was nearly vibrating at just the memory of the intensity of her climax, and how utterly she had lost control of herself.
Realizing that the film was coming to an end, she grabbed the drink, dismayed at how light it felt, as she feigned taking a drink, loosening the lid at the same time. She moved it back to the cup holder, then ‘clumsily’ put it down, so that it tipped, spilling the little remaining soda and the ice into her lap. Chris jumped at her choked squeal-- it was cold-- then laughed as Sharon tried to bat the flat squares of ice out of her lap. But that easily Sharon Sobel managed to avoid a second near disastrous discovery of just what she had become by her ******, and in barely more than twenty four hours.
***
Chris thought she was quiet on the ride home merely because she was embarrassed about having soaked her new pants. And he had to admit, he told her with a smile, she had done a good job-- he had not thought there was that much left, although the glasses were simply huge. Sharon spent the trip wondering if she should go back to school before the break was over to keep her ****** from discovering she had become a complete slut. And Trevor’s words echoed in her ears… would she squirt like that the next time she and Chris made love?
She took a long shower when they got home, cautiously playing with herself, then masturbating in earnest to a satisfying climax which did not include another flood, before she put on the sweats that had become her usual attire and went back down to the ******. Chris seemed moody when she arrived, and she wondered about it when he asked if she had just forgotten to tell him. Puzzled, she shook her head, answering that she had no idea what he was talking about… while wondering if he had gotten an email with a clip of her behaving like a wanton slut or a package with a DVD or something.
Kelly breezed into the room, then, apologizing to Chris, and insisting that she had ‘forgotten to tell Sharon,’ so Sharon could not have forgotten to tell him. Puzzled, Sharon listened as Kelly elaborated… there was a call for any available BZ Sisters to help with a Christmas charity push, and Kelly had volunteered she and Sharon. Of course, Sharon was able to read between the lines… Dave had some more plans for them for the night… Christmas night! She told Chris Kelly was just doing what they were all supposed to do-- helping whenever they could-- and apologized, promising they would be back as quickly as possible, suggesting the others get Chinese if she and Kelly were not back before dinner. She eyed her friend and lover as she asked, and Kelly shrugged, explaining that she had no idea how long it was going to take, just that they were supposed to be there before 5. She handed Sharon a bag, and Sharon glanced inside, relieved to find a mid thigh skirt and a nice short sleeved polo shirt in the school colors with a proper little BZ logo. She ducked into the bedroom to change, unsurprised at the hip hugging BZ panties that were included, except that they covered more than the usual thongs she wore.
When she was ready, she went out, apologizing again, although Chris waved it away, offering his own, and insisting that he was glad they were helping out others who were less fortunate.
As they were preparing to leave, though, he came out to the car, standing in the open door to Sharon’s Range Rover, which kept Sharon from asking Kelly what the hell Dave had planned. He seemed suddenly at a loss for words, and after a moment he simply reached into his suit jacket and handed Sharon a professionally wrapped gift box… It was longer than her hand but narrow and thin.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he said, “I know you wanted me home last night… It’s silly that I’d be upset at this… I’d just hoped to be able to give this to you at dinner…” Sharon’s hands were shaking in relief as much as excitement as she tore the paper away. Inside was a piece to match the tri color diamond earrings he had put in her stocking that morning. She took it out, amazed at how expensive it had to have been, and started to put it around her wrist, but it was clearly too big, and there were no links without jewels that could be removed. “Shar,” Chris smiled, “I didn’t think you’d wear it every day if it was a bracelet… it won’t match everything,” he glanced at Kelly, who was nodding, “At least, that’s what the expert told me… So it’s an anklet.” Sharon smiled, nodding.
“It’s beautiful!” she leapt out of the car to hug her husband, “I love it… I love you!” She climbed back into the big SUV and perched sideways in her seat so that Chris could affix it around her right ankle-- the opposite of the ankle where the delicate tattoo had been placed a few months before. When she put her foot back in under the wheel she looked down, then smiled at Chris, “It even sparkles here in the car… Thank you, baby!” She kissed him, reminded him he had ‘one more gift to unwrap’ so he shouldn’t go to sleep, and then reluctantly she and Kelly waved and pulled out of the drive before Sharon took a chance to ask what was happening. Kelly responded by showing her an address.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “But we aren’t s’posed to have our costumes or make up, so probably won’t be another club.” Sharon nodded, angry that the thought of ‘dancing’ for strangers had started to arouse her. The address was farther east, actually across the state line, on one of the streets Sharon had often heard about… Reality was at least as unsettling, as they passed scantily clad women standing along the streets, interspersed with hard young black men wearing hoodies and crouching on steps or leaning against cars. Stopped at a light, Sharon watched a car pull up to one. The driver handed something out his window, then pulled ahead slowly as the small boy who had taken the money scampered through a doorway into the blackness beyond. At the other end of the building, the car stopped and a second even younger boy appeared, delivering something to the driver who then pulled away.
“That was a drug buy,” she murmured in shock. Kelly snorted.
“You missed the trick on this side,” she pointed to the tail end of an old Ford sedan as it disappeared into the alley. Sharon realized that the overweight black woman with pink hair she had noticed as they rolled to the light was no longer standing on the street. For a moment she imagined Shaun and Dave having she and Kelly work like that on the street. She shuddered, trying to reassure herself that she would never do that, no matter what they threatened to do to her.
She was acutely aware of the steady gaze of almost all as they drove past, and the pause before the light turned took entirely too long. “One of my friends used to work at Eisenhower hospital down here,” she told Kelly, “She told me they said at orientation that driving home at night they should not stop at the lights if there wasn’t cross traffic.” Kelly just nodded, watching out her side window as they pulled through the intersection. “Dammit, he should tell us what we’re going to be doing.” She hit the steering wheel, “Men can be such assholes.” Kelly snorted, reaching over to squeeze Sharon’s thigh reassuringly. She left her hand midway up Sharon’s thigh, and the arousal that had been searching for a trigger rushed forward once again. Sharon took a ragged breath. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” Kelly just squeezed her thigh again.
“What happened today?” she asked at the next intersection. Sharon blushed, “Was it that obvious?” “No,” Kelly laughed, “Except when you took a drink before you left I could tell it was empty, so that wasn’t how your pants got all wet.” Sharon giggled, “I’m glad Chris isn’t as observant, but he was ogling that brunette in the movie.” It was Kelly’s turn to laugh at that. She proceeded to explain how Trevor had appeared out of nowhere, and what he’d done to Sharon in the ****** bathroom in less than ten minutes.
“You’re shitting me!” Kelly shook her head, “I don’t know where to begin… You peed standing up?” Sharon laughed. “Yep, and it actually worked out ok… I suspect I have to stand closer than men do, and it sprays more toward the end, but if you’re not sitting down… hell, I might do that whenever I have to pee in public from now on,” she wrinkled her nose, “Public toilets are gross.”
“How did it feel?” Kelly asked.
“Peeing standing up?” Sharon considered that for a second, “Actually pretty… liberating… naughty.” “No, silly,” Kelly rolled her eyes, “When he got you off.” “Oh,” Sharon considered that… “It was like I was having a whole body cramp… which should have hurt, but I was cumming, too, you know?” Kelly nodded, “Honestly I wasn’t even aware it was happening at first, and then I was sure I was peeing, since I had needed to go when we were starting.” “Well, it was impressive,” Kelly admitted, “Your pants were soaked.” “I know… I was sure someone would be able to smell it and know what had really happened.” “Your secret’s safe with me… this left here, I think…” They turned into the back parking lot of what looked like a church. “Are you sure this is right?” Sharon asked, eyeing the stained glass windows… There were lights on inside, and an array of cars, some nearly as nice as her Range Rover.
Before Kelly could respond, there was a rap on the driver’s window, making both women jump. A parking lot guard had come up from Sharon’s blind spot.
“Help you ma’am?” the middle aged dark skinned man asked politely, revealing bad teeth. Sharon looked down, seeing his name plate, which read Juan Robles.
“Uhm, we’re looking for,” Sharon glanced at Kelly, who read the address off of her phone. The man blinked, staring at Sharon for another moment before he looked past her to Kelly. He seemed to relax then.
“Oh sure,” he smiled at them, “They’s expecting you. G’wan up,” “Uhm, ok, but where should we park?” Sharon found her anxiety increasing at the prospect of their going inside. She was unsure why. “Heer,” the man waved to the other cars, “You go een. I weel keep it safe.” Nodding, Sharon reluctantly got out of her car, leaving it running, and taking Kelly’s hand, they started up the low concrete steps climbing the berm of sparsely grass covered earth separating the parking lot from the big building. Though not a religiously devout, Sharon had always respected organized religion and did believe that there was Something out there. Somehow the idea of taking part of anything Dave had planned inside a church seemed terribly wrong.
But even so, Sharon could not deny that each step closer ratcheted her arousal a bit higher. “I am such a slut,” she murmured. “What?” Kelly asked, clutching at Sharon’s arm as evidence of her own uncertainty. “Nothing,” Sharon shook her head, “Maybe they’re going to want me to squirt for the congregation as a baptism.” The women laughed at that as they reached the top step and approached the double glass door allowing entry. It was locked, and despite the fact that it was still light outside, Sharon felt very vulnerable. Suddenly she wanted to be inside. A tall, robed black man with a shaven head appeared, wordlessly allowing them entrance, and then with a gesture, leading them along an almost blacked out hall. The women looked at one another, neither daring to speak.
After making several turns… enough Sharon doubted she could find her way back outside, the silent guide waved them into a dimly lit room. Sharon could tell there were others inside. But it was so dark she could not make out any detail. Trying to appear calm and self assured, she stepped through the doorway, keeping hold of Kelly’s hand. She was aware of an intermittent noise… a low humming… almost sing song. And there was a rhythmic component too that she could not place.
She nearly screamed when hands caught hold of her, separating her from Kelly. She wondered how they could be so unerring as she was led deeper into the black room, and then after someone put her hand on a table standing before her, gestures made it plain she was to disrobe. She did so, leaving her clothing and purse on the table before being led away. At the next stop, she was handed something… feeling it, she could identify legs including zippers at the calf. The material was heavy and stiff. She reluctantly pulled them on, unsurprised to find they were crotchless, and trying not to be affected at how tightly the material clung to her skin everywhere it touched. Hands pulled a zipper at the back she had not seen, and Sharon imagined she could never get it off without help.
She was nudged along, and at the next stop a similar top was tugged into place… long sleeved, with harder pockets into which her hands came to rest, offering her no means of gripping anything. More hidden zippers were tugged, and she felt real fear, knowing that it was not just a sense of helplessness-- her only way out of the clothing would be with someone’s help. She tried to see through the blackness… was this happening to Kelly, too? At least she had not heard her friend protest, and so Sharon resolved to be as brave.
At the next station a heavy cloak was draped over her shoulders, followed by what felt like an equally heavy and oppressive helmet or hood. The material smelled oily, and abruptly Sharon realized it was rubber, like the wet suit she had worn when she had gone scuba diving with Chris and the kids several years before. The material was so tight against her ears that it was hard to hear anything beyond a roar that reminded her of listening to a seashell. And there was pressure against her eyes, her lashes brushing against something that was in front of them. There was a dulled but clearly metallic ‘snap’ and then something tugged at the front of her neck; not painful, but nothing she could ignore…
The white housewife padded along, keeping slack in the line, for a longer time than had been true before. She was almost sure there was light around her; it seemed like a small amount of light leaked around the tight seal of the rubber pressed against her eyes. She was more aware of the touch of air where the rubber did not cover, and knew that the top she wore had open cups, her breasts only partially covered by the shifting robe that had been put on before the mask. She tried to stay calm as hands yanked her hair though some defect in the rubber above and behind her ears. Hands caught her right calf, lifting her leg, then setting it into the well, she guessed of boots. The angle her foot took was just short of painful, and she could not imagine how high the heel had to be, but she was powerless to stop it from happening as zips or buckles cinched the shoe into place and the calf of her leggings was zipped closed over it.
At a tug from the leash, Sharon moved forward, feeling very like an insect as she carefully moved each foot, unsure how much contact she had with the ground. Much of her weight was on the fronts of her shins, the shoes were so severely angled. She became aware others were moving in the same way to either side. They were stopped once again, and a straw was pushed to her mouth. She took a sip, then at a yank of the leash she began to drink as quickly as she could, by then reassured at the sweet familiar taste of a Mind Eraser. She realized she was smelling weed, and inhaled hungrily, having not been high since returning for break. She had finished a second drink and had been enjoying the smoke for several minutes before she was led forward once again… or maybe sideways, she thought and giggled. When she stopped moving, make up was applied almost brusquely, including something cold applied to her breasts and sex before she and the others were again brought along by their leashes.
Though muffled by the mask, the sounds changed as she and at least two others carefully moved up in a spiral… a ramp, she realized, glad they were not taking steps… and the next moment having to carefully negotiate three wide low steps before being brought to a halt. There were echoes, and Sharon was certain she had been brought into the main room… the sanctuary, she thought with a giggle that a yank on the leash cut off short. She was aware of the others… more than just two, shifting nervously beside her.
The air felt alive with pulsing sound… low chanting and a rhythmic beat. Helpless before it, the overwhelming feeling Sharon got was of sexual potency. She gasped as her nipples and clit began to burn, the sensation triggering a series of the deeper ’TWANG’ she was long used to, each pushing her arousal a notch higher. The was led forward again, the light so bright when they stopped that Sharon could make out movement around her. Her thighs came to a stop against a rail, higher than the communion rail she remembered being in most churches. Her feet were kicked apart, and the blonde housewife struggled to maintain her balance on the tiny footprints of the heels as her feet were forcibly placed slightly more than shoulder width. There was a tug on the leash, and Sharon bent at the waist over the rail.
When the tugging on the leash stopped, she tried to raise up, but found that the lead had been fixed somewhere ahead of her, anchoring her in the lewd straight legged bent over position. She already wished it was more of a table than the rail, her abdominal muscles protesting holding her torso in that position. There was movement around her, the same pressure, air currents, and rhythm, vibrating up from the floor. Hands came to rest on the sides of her mask after another minute, and abruptly the smoked lenses were lifted, unblocking her vision.
Sharon winced at the kaleidoscope of light. There were bright fluorescent lights being shone through stained glass panels that were rotating, casting an eerie spectral color show over everything. Other lights reflected off of a mirror ball like those she remembered from the roller rink, where it was rotating on the floor. All of it was painfully bright, even the candles she could see flickering around the room.
And the movement she had seen before was she assumed BZ members, though they were dressed in strange feather and leather costumes, which reminded her of the International Geographic pictures of African tribes. The men-- they were all men, she quickly noted-- moved in a steady choreographed manner, clapping hands, slapping one another’s hands, and stomping, then spinning, muscular legs describing intricate patterns before there was more clapping. There was a steady low chant she heard through the mask, the overall impression so powerfully sexual her burning nipples and sex seemed to pulse in time with their language.
The men were masked, and Sharon could see that there were more women than she had thought arrayed in a circle in various positions… Every other woman was bent at the waist as she was. The intervening women leaned on their backs against the rail, or lay on their belly or back on the floor. There were markings on the forehead of each of the women Sharon could see… 9 of them without turning her head, which she chose not to do, not wanting to earn any punishment. The symbols were small, but they were clearly different, and she wondered if this was representative Sisters from other regional frats. Between each pair of posing women stood a Sister in a black hooded robe. They kept their heads down, the hood masking their identities.
There was a gap in the rail between the woman across from her and the semi-reclining woman to her immediate left. Sharon noticed the men were moving purposefully, circling one clockwise, the next counterclockwise around the inside of the circle of women, maintaining their careful movement, following the drum cadence. Glistening black skin interrupted the light hitting the mirror ball, changing the shadows, the light somehow emphasizing the color of their skin, even in the swirling colored lighting. It was erotic, and Sharon’s need to get off was taking over her focus.
The cadence changed after a minute, and the men passing before Sharon swung short leather braids on wooden sticks in planned arcs, one after another. She gasped at the tickle, and then the subsequent sting as the men moving behind her began to land the tip on her ass…
And then the crops were stretching out, slapping at her bare, hanging breasts, as well. She missed the change because of that the first time one of the dancers moved past close behind, his thighs brushing her ass. She shivered, trying to push back, welcoming the contact, wanting more. The men smoothly pivoting in front of her, she realized were no longer wearing their loin cloths.. Her eyes saw bobbing, swinging black cocks… most at least semi-erect, and the pressure of the masculine hips pressing against her ass every few seconds quickly made the white housewife anxious for more.
She did not have long to wait… With impressive synchronicity the men moving behind the circled bound women pivoted, stepping forward, and unerringly hammering their erections into the helpless BZ Bitches. A mewling cry rose from 16 female throats, though Sharon was only aware of her own scream. She nearly came on that first incredible stroke, but then the man was gone, her sex empty and hungry for contact. A few rhythmic beats later, and the process was repeated by a different cock. Sharon pressed back, her body responding to the invasion, hungry for more. He was already gone, though.
She struggled to ignore that need, focused on the beat… counted. On the eighth a new shaft drove into her, the brutal thrust of the man opposite the circle into one of her sisters an exact reflection. It continued, a single full thrust every eight beats, maddeningly slow. Sharon twitched her bottom, hungry for the contact as the fourth or fifth cock prepared to lance into her. Her initiative was punished, the silent woman she had forgotten standing out of sight to her side smartly whipping the bare edge of her ass with a crop. Sharon froze, and the thrust an instant later was more overwhelming because of it. She barely managed to keep from crying out, and on the next eight beat, there was a plaintive cry from across the circle to her left. The hooded female sentinel spun and almost magically affixed a ball gag over the helpless woman’s mouth, then snapped the goggles back into place as an added punishment. Sharon guessed that most of the other women could see that, and somehow even the girls to either side, who could not have seen, somehow realized that their silence was demanded for the strange ceremony.
She wondered if they were supposed to be trying to get the men off, ‘weeding them out’ as she had at the Christmas party, but even being able to anticipate each thrust, the men were inside of her too briefly for her to really work them with her pelvic floor muscles, and she was afraid to shift after being punished and having seen how one of her sister’s had been corrected. She knew the men were moving in a pattern, around the outside and crossing through the middle in both directions, a sort of figure 8 or yin and yang pattern. For a time she tried to count how many, but with the costumes, and the lights and the movement none looked so different that she could be certain of the number… She guessed there were 16 women in the circle, and with nearly that many men crossing the center, it could easily be 40 men.
To be continued part 15D2
