Chapter 13: Bet Your High Flying Ass…
Sharon’s new role as a Snake Eyes headliner and champagne room girl kept her more than busy. Her ‘get wet’ introduction Friday night, as the other dancers called it, was repeated Saturday night, except she danced twice the number of sets and had been grinding against strangers out on the floor for almost 6 hours before Raoul collected her as she was finishing getting a GI off in a back booth. The big bouncer calmly told her she had an ‘admirer’ who wanted to share a bottle of champagne with her.
The hapless white housewife did not understand at first, but Raoul was patient, leading her to the short hallway that opened into the champagne room. He stopped, still on the main floor, introducing her to ‘Clark,’ a light skinned black man who had had Sharon do 3 lap dances in a row earlier in the evening. Flattered but nervous, Sharon quickly realized her ‘date’ was obviously a frequent customer, based on the casual and knowing way in which he led her into the blue room and to an open ‘table.’ The cushion, which reminded her of the ottoman at the foot of Chris’ big chair in the den, was covered with faux polar bear fur. She giggled, seeing there indeed was a bottle of champagne on the small glass table between the 2 seats that completed the station. She answered Clark’s toast and emptied the plastic champagne flute. Soon enough she found herself on her knees, slurping at the stranger’s average cock. When he was hard and indicated he wanted more, she deftly slipped a condom onto him from the supply in the dispenser on the table where you would find sugar at a typical club or restaurant.
And then she was on her back, looking around absently at the other dancers who’d been tapped to ‘entertain’ that night, while Clark thrust into her eagerly. She made the right noises, lifting a leg as his tempo began to change, spurring him on with a low moan that did the trick… He was through in less than 5 minutes, and fell back, gasping that she was ‘amazing’ and refilling their glasses. Sharon was glad for the 2nd drink… she had not cum yet, and even though Go had gotten her off before her shift, the constant semi-arousal that pervaded the club had her hungry to cum again.
It had made it easy not to argue when Geoff signaled for her thirty minutes later… She had finished her last set on stage before Clark had fucked her, and was merely working the floor for the extra money. The guest the second time was older and heavier than Clark, and to her relief, he was bigger as well. She managed to get off as he lay back on a couch and had her ride him to his orgasm, all, while pouring bubbly down her bare chest and licking it off of her nipples.
Sweating but momentarily sated, she thanked the second ‘guest’ with a brief kiss on the lips, then tracked down one of the other girls to ask about a shower-- the sugary wine had left her a sticky mess. She was not actually surprised when she found the shower was not private…the entry door was not even in the girls’ changing room. Go had found a way to make money even on his girls cleaning up. When she entered the shower booth, a light went on over her head, and was obviously visible on the main floor, too, because it was not 30 seconds before she saw windows opening on 3 sides of the shower stall; Snake Eyes patrons were watching as she soaped up and rinsed. Without really thinking about it, she began to put on a show; if there was one instruction she had heard a hundred times, it was that she was to smile and ‘flaunt it’ when she was in the club. Two nights in, that reaction had already become second nature.
Of course, at least one of her unseen voyeurs was sufficiently stimulated she found herself back in the champagne room a third time, letting a Hispanic soldier use her doggy style. At his urging she had several glasses of the bubbly as he was using her, and giggled that it was a different feeling getting buzzed while being balled. She did not make it out of the champagne room when her ‘guest’ had finished before a tall, nervous young black man was ushered in and proceeded to quickly enjoy himself with her, too.
When he had finished and she had led him to the entrance to the champagne room, giving him the expected kiss on the lips as a final ‘thanks,’ she chose to stay in the blue lit room, lounging at the front with some of the other girls who’d been assigned to work on their backs, and were choosing to let the patrons who wanted it come to select them. Of course, she was still supposed to move and pose and offer the men who came in ‘to browse’ sufficient attention they would choose her. She knew she was not as good at that as the others-- experience was crucial to that skill set-- but as the ‘new’ girl she did not have to work very hard to get noticed. She had ‘entertained’ twice more before the bell rang through the club: 2AM, last call.
She had not expected that ‘last call,’ would mean a rush not for final drinks, but for a last turn with the girls putting out in the blue room. Already a little embarrassed that 6 strangers and Go had used her since she had arrived at the club, she found herself draped over one of the fur trimmed cushions as another stranger thrust into her from behind, while his buddy had her suck him off. She did not pause to consider that the guy using her mouth was not in a condom, and swallowed his load in a few minutes without real reluctance… Rubbers tasted bad, she remembered, giggling at the thought.
Driving home after her second night on duty at Snake Eyes, a fat roll of bills filling her clutch purse, Sharon had admitted she could understand why Go had no trouble getting dancers… they easily made more money than they could have earned doing anything else. She had been worried she had had too much to drink to be driving-- not an irrational concern-- but she was embarrassed at the thought of a cab picking her up at the club and was not about to ask anyone else to drive her home, so she climbed into the Range Rover and pulled out onto the early morning roads with over-exaggerated caution. She arrived safely, but had a wheel fully up the curb when she parked.
She shut the door to her place and leaned against it as the clock on the wall chimed once. She glanced over, seeing it was 3:30AM. Groaning at how tired she realized she felt, Sharon stumbled to the bathroom, then flopped onto her bed and was quickly asleep, giggling at the thought that she might never have to change the sheets if she kept falling asleep on the comforter…
The smell of coffee woke her shortly after noon on Sunday. She padded out of the bedroom, not caring how she looked, to find Dave pouring 2 mugs of coffee. She sat down at the kitchen table and was pleased when the ZB Brother served her a mug along with a little pitcher of cream. She put more than usual in, adding two packets of sugar before taking a sip. Satisfied that it wasn’t too hot, she quickly emptied the mug, then stood up to fix another. She giggled when Dave spanked her haunch as she went by.
“You make a Brother proud,” he told her, “Go said you dance like you were born to it and you turn twice as many drinks as the other girls.” Sharon beamed. She pointed to the schedule she had taped to the refrigerator.
“Are you going to come watch me dance?” she asked, hopefully, “That’s when I work… The nights it says ‘C’ I spend part of my shift in the champagne room.” Dave nodded thoughtfully. “If it’s a lower case ‘c’, like last night,” she went on, “Well, then I work the floor, and if someone wants to go back I go along.” Dave nodded again, as if he did not know Go’s routine.
“You ain’t working tonight, though?” Sharon shook her head, and found herself hoping he would take her back to the frat. “Well, if I didn’t have a project due I’d drive you back to get some new outfits for your job,” he smiled, “We could go back to the mall… past time you got touched up, ain’t it?” Sharon blushed… a few errant hairs had become obvious where she’d been worked on the 1st time he had taken her ‘home.’ She clenched her thighs together, remembering what else they’d done that day. “Guess we’ll have to do that sometime soon.” She just nodded. Dave sat looking at her, until she bit her lip uncertainly, feeling as if she was missing something.
“What?” she finally asked. Dave shook his head as if she should know.
“What’d you do last night?” he asked. She blushed.
“I danced.”
“You danced?”
“I… I stripped.” He waited, “And I did lap dances… and I… I entertained in the champagne room.” She couldn’t bring herself to say what ‘entertained’ meant. He rolled his eyes.
“Did they give you anything to bring home?” She frowned,
“No, they… oh,” she blushed more deeply, “Oh, oops, I forgot…” She ran into the bedroom, returning with the clutch purse. She pulled out the thick wad of rubber banded bills. “See? I couldn’t believe it… I thought it must be a mistake,” she said proudly, handing it to Dave. He stripped off the rubber bands and quickly counted through it, nodding.
“Not bad at all,” he said, stripping off 3 $20’s and as many $5’s, before reapplying the rubber band. He dropped the impressive roll into his shirt pocket, leaving the rest sitting on the kitchen table. Sharon blushed, looking at the money.
“Oh, no, that was the deal,” she started, “I mean…”
“Hell, it looks like you need some groceries,” Dave interrupted, “and like I said, you’ll want to get some things to use on stage,” he pulled a battered flyer out of his back pocket, “This Adam and Eve catalog? They’ve got some killer shit… and so does the Playboy Store… I tucked one of their catalogs inside.” He tossed them onto the table top, and Sharon picked them up, at once scandalized and aroused at the variety of toys and clothes and what not she saw on the pages. She didn’t notice the mailing address and name were her own. “I’d better get going,” he was delighted at the way she looked up when he said that-- she’d obviously expected to be having sex with him. “I think we’ve got just the sort of party you’ll enjoy,” he assured her, “It’s just a couple weeks away.” He motioned toward the fridge, “Better get yourself some groceries, though.” and then he had left, struggling not to laugh at the helplessly ensnared housewife’s response.
The only thing that would’ve been better would’ve been if she’d offered to give him the rest of the money to have him get her off… Dave wondered if he could arrange for just that sort of show as he headed for the other side of campus to pick Keiko up. The hot little Asian BZ Bitch was doing the same thing Sharon was doing, except at one of the juice bars closer to campus. Eyeing the roll of bills he’d taken from Sharon’s purse, he admitted ‘little Key’ wasn’t doing nearly as well as their prize filly, but that wasn’t a big surprise. Still, he’d have to do something about that…
Sharon managed to do her laundry and get groceries on Sunday. She called Kelly, but her friend didn’t answer. She considered going home, but the thought of having Chris wanting to have sex with her was enough to stay away… As horny as she’d been when Dave was in her little condo, when he’d gone she’d realized she was still a little stiff and sore after the prior nights’ activity. She hadn’t even been tempted to masturbate when Dave had left without doing anything to her. After a light lunch-- she had stocked the freezer with Healthy Choice frozen dinners, and the fridge with fruits, juices, and single serving champagne bottles, as well as more of the beer she’d seen Shaun and Dave drinking-- she grabbed a water bottle and a granola bar and hit the gym. It was flattering the way the guys eyed her as she did thirty minutes on the elliptical, and another thirty minutes on the treadmill. Mindful of the muscles she was using dancing, she spent most of another thirty minutes on the weight machines, too.
She was embarrassed to admit, on the walk home, she had sort of hoped someone might approach her while she was exercising, but she had not seen any of the frat members. By the time the sun was dipping below the horizon, she almost wished a chip holder would visit. She wasn’t sure what else to do. After paging through the flyers Dave had left, Sharon went online, ordering several items from both the Playboy and Adam and Eve sites; outfits she could use at work and some toys she hoped would convince Dave or Shaun to spend more time with her when they visited. After finishing a frozen dinner, Sharon paced about before remembering Dave warning her to get enough exercise. Maybe she needed to exercise more…
Hoping she might bump into a ZB, she made the trip across the campus again, repeating her time on the treadmill and elliptical, pushing herself until her top was sufficiently sweat soaked that it was obvious she had no sports bra-- or any bra-- underneath. Sharon basked at once more in the many looks she got from the male students using the gym, and ignored the more pointed glares of the other women.
When a woman barely older than her ******** said something under her breath as she walked past, Sharon just shrugged, almost laughing when the spectacles little prude sniffed and hurried away… If she was not such a sourpuss, Sharon knew the guys would have eyed the other young woman. She was not as busty, but she was graceful like a gymnast, and Sharon had seen some of the things a more petite woman could do to satisfy her man or men. The little dear was clearly uncomfortable with herself.
Sharon made the walk back across the quad without incident, and reluctantly turned in at 10PM. She slept soundly, even making the next morning’s classes, but of course, she had to be out at Snake Eyes before the lunch rush. She grabbed a granola and champagne lunch, then drove out to the club in time to practice a little… and to spend fifteen enjoyable minutes getting Go off, before she had to go to work.
She worked every day the first week, the lunch shift on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and the Tuesday night shift. Well, that’s when she was on the schedule, but she was at the club every night. There was always a lull between lunch and the after work crowd. Nobody said anything to her about going home, though, and whether it was blowing Go under his desk as he went about handling the business, practicing her dances and the music she would use, trying to fix the pathetic supply of ‘community costumes’ that filled the bin in the dressing room, or talking to the other girls, getting pointers and suggestions, Sharon most nights was surprised to realize that her shift was long past and she was still there, working the tables, shaking her ass, grinding against strangers, and downing the heavily watered drinks to pad the customers’ tabs, not to mention putting out for whoever… for whatever Go charged.
Of course, before every shift Go took a turn with her; he wasn’t selfish, and even if he came as she sat on her knees beneath his desk, he always made sure to ‘feed her the pipe’ as he called it. Without shame she mused it was the best part of her day, Thursday afternoon, as she slipped into the costume she’d chosen for her first turn on stage… She always got off repeatedly while he was using her.
By her second Friday as one of Go’s dancers, Sharon understood why the other girls seemed so quiet and pale… She could not seem to get enough sleep, even skipping her classes to allow longer naps, she was dragging. Dancing was a chore, even without prep and practice… The lap dances left her aroused but unfulfilled, and more often than not whoever was fucking her in the Champagne room was done before she was really excited, much less before she really got off. The weekend was a blur. She woke, showered, grabbed some clothes, and hurried to work, staggering in shortly before sunrise to sleep away the day before repeating the process.
Midway through her second full week as a dancer, Sharon was wondering how much longer she could keep doing it. The money was still impressive… She had given Shaun more than a thousand dollars Sunday morning, and he had told her how proud he was of her… but he had not stayed. The end of the week and the weekend were once again lost to any real memory. Staring at herself in the mirror Saturday afternoon she tried to remember anything about the night before… How many times had she danced? How many had she entertained in the champagne room? When had she gotten home? She wondered if her drinks had not been watered down. She was relieved that she was no more sore than usual… there was a constant ache she had just learned to ignore in all of muscles.
Worried she would not stay awake on the drive home after the club closed down Saturday night, Sharon slept in the Range Rover Saturday night, stealing a long nap in the dressing room after the relentless sun pouring through the windshield woke her up. She napped again, curled up on Go’s couch after he found her in the dressing room and led her by the hand to his office to ‘wear her out so she could sleep good and proper.’ When she woke, after sundown, still naked on the couch in Go’s office, she jumped up, worried for long moments she was late to her next shift. The music was working, and she had spent most of a minutes scrambling to gather her clothes before she realized she was off-- she could go home.
Of course, getting back to sleep, then, Sunday night was not easy. Although she knew she should feel rested, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling and skipped class before dragging herself out of bed to shower and get ready for her lunch shift Monday. She had not felt so jet lagged when the ****** had gone to Europe a few summers before.
Monday was so used to putting out for Go, she did not bother to knock, walking unannounced into his office at 1130. She stopped short, finding him banging Kelly, the younger woman splayed over his desk, mewling and panting happily as he pumped into her from behind. Sharon watched for several long seconds before realizing they could see her. She blushed, but Go just winked and told her he’d ‘try to save some to give her later.’ Embarrassed, Sharon scrambled out of his office and into the dressing room, intent on working her shift without letting on how jealous she felt at having seen Go fucking Kelly… She knew that was ridiculous, but she hadn’t had really good sex from anyone else in weeks. She had been looking forward to getting off, and knowing Kelly was cumming on the cock she wanted to get her off… Sharon giggled at that thought; it certainly wasn’t the first time that had happened. And Kelly was her friend; she told herself she should be happy the younger woman was getting off, too. BZ Bitches had to stick together.
Kelly wasn’t the only other BZ Bitch who joined Sharon at Snake Eyes during that third week; Diane was also there that night. Sharon had found herself wondering if the club owner was somehow fucking all of his girls. She was a little embarrassed at how good it felt when she learned Diane hadn’t gotten the same attention she and Kelly enjoyed. She was not about to suggest her Sister see what their boss had in the cock department, though. She and Kelly laughed over a pact to keep that not so little secret to themselves unless Go chose to ‘treat’ their fellow Bitch.
The younger women adapted to their new ‘job’ without any apparent trouble. Neither said anything about missing classes or missing out on ZB parties. Sharon wonderd if they were still going to parties, as well as working-- neither Diane nor Kelly worked as many shifts as Sharon did. They did not look as tired as she felt sauntering across the glossy stage, twirling around the brass pole, or shaking it in the back room. Sharon was not about to ask, though; she had decided she did not want to know what she had been missing.
They carpooled when schedules allowed, and some nights the women ‘slept over,’ after the club had closed, though usually all were too spent to do more than snuggle. Having her Sisters around made work more fun, and Sharon never complained about the hours she was working or the number of men she was servicing; Dave was quick to tell her she was ‘doing good’ when he stopped by to collect what she had earned. He had also left her more money… a few bills every time he stopped to get the rest, and Sharon had continued to shop, collecting enough costumes to fill a travel suitcase she kept in the Range Rover when she was not working. It felt good, having so many men watching her… wanting her. And she was proud how well she could get them off, giving them pleasure. Go was quick to tell her, whenever they were alone, that she was his best girl. Sharon just blushed, pressing herself against him and mumbling she was happy he was happy. A few moments later he was thrusting into her steadily and she was cumming, reveling in the pleasure she was only finding by going to work…
Even so, Sharon was truly dragging by the end of her first month working at Go’s. She had long since stopped trying to count the number of men who had used her; she had stopped being flattered by the men who had enjoyed her enough to come back for more. She found herself remembering what Cherry had said, even contemplating inquiring what the younger but more experienced stripper knew about that could help her get her zip back before a shift. She was spared finding out when Go called she and Kelly in after they had both finished their last turns on stage the next Saturday night.
“Well, Shar’,” he cupped her ass and tweaked her unpiereced nipple before offering similarly familiar ‘greetings’ to Kelly, “You’ve been at it a month… Doing real good, girl… Making good money… Building me return customers… Showin’ your Sisters the ropes… I’m proud of ya.” Sharon smiled and nodded, trying not to let on how much she wanted Go to fuck her right then and there… It did not matter that Kelly was there; her friend had seen Sharon have sex before. Glancing at the way Kelly was shifting, pressing her thighs tight, Sharon almost giggled, sure that her friend was thinking the same thing… confident they were both literally dripping wet.
“And you, my little one,” Go smiled at Kelly, “You’re almost neck and neck with our prize housewife.” He leered at both women, then lowered his zipper, “Think you can take care of this together?” Sharon nearly jumped she was so eager to comply. Even so, Kelly was on her knees at the same time. The women slurped up and down Go’s rising shaft, alternately taking the blunt cockhead into their mouths. Go watched the unspoken competition with obvious enjoyment. Sharon was the first to bob her head into his groin, taking him into her throat. She held him there, sucking hungrily as Kelly practically whined in protest, awaiting her turn. When Sharon came up for air, Kelly dove onto him, bobbing up and down fervently.
They alternated for a couple minutes, working his crank until Go winced, concerned he might actually sustain damage. He settled a hand on each woman’s head, regaining some measure of control. The women backed off, licking and kissing at his shaft… and increasingly each other. Both women were steadily fingering themselves. Smiling down at the little show, Go bent over the women, catching the hand each woman was using to work her own slit.
Sharon was so intent on getting Go off she wasn’t initially aware of what was happening when Go pulled her hand away. Was he telling her he wanted them to… Her fingers returned to her slit and she began to work it as feverishly as before… up and down, around her clit, dipping inside… As she returned to working the inner labia, though, the pressure on her own sex built, shifting up to focus on her clit. She groaned as she realized what Go had done. She was fingering Kelly, and Kelly was…
Sharon moaned around Go’s cock as Kelly’s fingers brought her off. A moment later, the younger woman writhed against Sharon as she, too, got off. They kept at Go’s cock, though, and in short order he was ready to blow. He’d been practicing something with Kelly for just what he had planned, and turning her hips, he pushed his cockhead into the younger woman’s mouth. He groaned as he began to cum, ignoring the whine of protest that escaped Sharon’s throat. Kelly looked up at him, still bobbing her head slightly as she took his cum. When he was spent, he pulled away, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he watched Kelly. The pretty coed dutifully tilted her head back and opened her mouth, showing off his load.
“Damn you two are a good team,” he praised them, “I think you’d better share that with Sharon, Kel’, she’s been patient.” Kelly closed her mouth as she turned to the aroused housewife. Sharon ducked low as Kelly leaned toward her. “Let me see it,” Go warned. Kelly paused, then moving over Sharon’s open mouth, she parted her lips, letting Go’s jism drool into Sharon’s open, wanting mouth. Go smiled, hoping the cameras caught it. As the heavy string of pearlescent fluid broke, Kelly brought her mouth down, kissing the older woman. Sharon returned the kiss passionately, and as they continued sharing his cum, their fingers began to roam over one another’s firm body.
Go watched as the women moved closer, hands roaming over breasts, between legs, fondling, pinching, caressing. Their moans grew as the women got more into what they were doing to each other than what they’d been sharing. It wasn’t a minute before they’d managed to shed their clothes. Bodies undulated as roving fingers and a passionate French kiss became an intimate 69. Sharon moved atop the smaller coed, each woman moaning into the other’s twitching sex. After a couple minutes, Kelly gasped, bucking up against her friend and lover, spilling both women onto their sides. They came together, after a few minutes more, bodies twitching visibly, and still didn’t stop until each had enjoyed another more gentle climax some minutes later.
Flushed with arousal, panting from their exertions, the women sat up, both having obviously forgotten about their audience. The vestiges of his own eruption shone on their skin, as Kelly and Sharon looked from one another to him and back. He shook his head, chuckling, then offered each a hand, pleased at the total lack of inhibition both showed.
“Damn you put on a great show,” he paused as if thinking of something for the first time, “In fact, I think you’re going to be just the thing.” The women frowned prettily, puzzled. He waved his hands dismissively. “Oh, I should explain… TandA have been invited to tour the circuit… They’ll be gone for 3 months starting after Thanksgiving. I’d been wondering how I’d replace them… it’s the club’s biggest draw… though admittedly you’ve given them a run for their money,” he winked at Sharon. “How would you two like to be our new girl girl act?” He was certain, having watched them, of their answer, or it wouldn’t have been a question. They really had no say in anything, but one of the tricks was never to let them think about that. “You get to practice without having to work the early shift… You won’t be in the champagne room as often, and only work the floor after every other time on stage. In fact,” he paused, “I’ll have them work with you before we open a couple days a week. and I’ll give you both off the week of Thanksgiving… Then you can come back and wow us all the weekend after Turkey Day.” Sharon and Kelly were nodding. Laughing, they hugged each other before bothering to begin to sort out the clothes they’d strewn about the floor. Go cleared his throat.
“There’s just one other thing.” They stopped, both obviously ready for something they would not like. He was certain they would be happily surprised by his next words. He stood up from where he’d flopped into his seat to watch their impromptu performance, “The little show you just put on has me a little frustrated…” The women smiled, dropping the clothing they had picked up. “Why don’t you both bend over my desk here and we’ll see which of you can hold out the longest.” It was gratifying the way they jumped to obey… like they wanted to have him inside of him. Smiling, he caught hold of Sharon’s waist and slipped into her depths, delighting in the keening moan that escaped the married woman’s lips. He pushed in and out slowly, teasing her, then backed out entirely after the fifth thrust to offer Kelly the same introductory fuck. The women shimmied and moaned, pushing back at him.
As Go alternated, working between both undeniably hot women, he wondered at how easy it was… He had never had to work to get a woman, and had never found himself lacking female company. Some days he marveled there wasn’t a gentlemen’s club on every corner, the money was so certain and the ‘work’ so easy. He had to admit, though, as he pushed himself back into Sharon, that this one… this married white coed, was uncommonly good. Smiling, he was glad she had been as easy to hook up as Dave had assured him she would be… He did not know how long Shaun and Dave would loan their new Bitches out, but it was proving a win-win situation, both monetarily and… He spanked Sharon’s bare ass, and the aroused white wife moaned and shivered, obviously near an orgasm. Go mused that he was going to enjoy them thoroughly while he could… He could worry about just how much money they had brought in later.
Beneath him, Sharon twitched, struggling not to be the first to cum… She was guessing whoever lasted longer would get to finish Go off, and she wanted to be the one, but when he had spanked her, she had very nearly climaxed. She bit back the groan of disappointment when Go backed out, feeling the way Kelly’s arm muscles tightened as their employer began to fuck her young friend once again. She tried to calm her breathing, told herself to think about laundry and her kids’ homework-- anything not to be so excited. Then Go was thrusting into her again. She moaned, twitching visibly, still fighting the approaching orgasm. God, it felt so good, but she wanted more… Sharon dug her fingernails into her palm, desperate for a few seconds distraction. Then he had backed out, and she felt Kelly stiffen as he impaled her. The younger woman’s body rocked and Sharon counted… Three, four, fix, six… She frowned when the count reached twelve, and belatedly realized Kelly was shaking in an obvious orgasm. She smiled broadly, then paused, wondering if Go meant to finish off in her friend. She needn’t have worried; the big club owner slowed as Kelly’s climax ebbed. Chuckling, he pulled out.
“Guess you get the prize tonight, Shar,” Sharon nodded, moaning loudly as Go’s big hands caught her by the waist and he began to thrust into her again more forcefully than before. She did not trust her voice enough to answer, she was already so close to her own orgasm. Pressing her thighs against the drawers of the desk front, she levered back eagerly, welcoming the big man’s thrusts He leaned back, careful that the room’s many cameras would have a clear view as he paused, taking his hands off of her waist, letting the hot housewife impale herself on his jutting cock. When she whined in protest, he smiled, spanking her naked ass lightly before catching her cheeks in his hands, pulling them apart and firmly groping both. The movement pulled Sharon’s sex tighter around his pumping shaft, increasing the friction on her aroused clit. Sharon’s breath caught. Her back arched, hands scrabbling to catch hold of the far edge of the desk as she began to cum. She pushed back at him, a low, breathless moan escaping her throat.
“Ahhh,” Go cut lose on the next thrust, having been more than ready since shortly after he’d started giving it to both women. Still erupting, he backed out, painting Sharon’s ass before turning toward Kelly, who had recovered enough to watch her friend with obvious jealousy. Without being told, she leaned over catching the last of his spend in her mouth. Go patted her head as if she was an obedient dog. “That’s my girl,” he praised them both, then gestured at the glimmering fluid on Sharon’s shivering ass, “Maybe you’d better help Mrs. Sharon get cleaned up before you go on duty.” Kelly did not hesitate, and before he shooed the women out they had treated him to a second heated oral lez fest. Checking the clock, the club owner wondered just how long they could continue, and reluctantly reminded his girls they still had a job to do.
When they had dutifully left to clean up before making him money with their fine asses, Go unlocked the computer and eyed the projected figures… Even ignoring the money he was getting for sharing TandA with other club owners, the numbers his new act would bring in were going to make it the best year he had ever had, and in a down economy. Lighting a fat Cuban cigar, Go remembered what the club owner who had shown him the ropes had insisted: liquor stores and strip clubs were recession proof.
The night was another blur for Sharon. Still buzzed by the endorphin release of her orgasms, the first two sessions on the stage were over before she knew it. Smiling, she circulated, asking for drinks, offering lap dances, and entertaining twice in the blue room before her third set came up. The DJ had spanked her, asking if she needed a pick me up when he found her leaning against the booth. Sharon had smiled-- always smile-- and had thanked him for the offer, but before she had to turn him down a patron-- one of her regulars-- came along, leading her back so he could get off. She knew Chet had already had her… all of the employees, including most of the dancers, had taken a turn with her the night she’d ‘gotten wet.’ She giggled as the guy who’d been there her last three nights began what had become ‘their routine,’ having her suck at him until he was fully hard. Diane and Kelly had not gotten the full ‘wet night’ treatment’ at least not when she had been there, but having the other new girls who had come to dance get her off was actually better than a lot of the sex she was having in the club.
The memory of having Go enjoy she and Kelly… and what she and Kelly had done afterwards, had Sharon just aroused enough that she managed a small orgasm with her client, a reaction he recognized and was clearly excited about. Assuring her he would be back again soon, he thanked her, hastily zipping up after she had expertly stripped off his condom. Sharon paused in the Champagne room, enjoying the almost palpable excitement under the blue lights, and emptying a water bottle one of the clean up crew brought for her. Her exit to the main room was delayed when her ‘Prince Charming’ pointed her out to her buddy. Before Sharon really knew it, the buddy had her against the cool black wall at the back of the Champagne room, doing a credible job of fucking her standing up. Sharon wrapped her legs around his waist, spurring him on with her heels and soft moans, taking satisfaction in how quickly she managed to finish him off so that she could get back for her next set.
There were enough girls on duty it was a 5 set night. Sharon was smiling but she was no longer really processing what was happening by the end of her last dance. She swayed sexily on the pole, vaguely aware Kelly had been working the opposite stage. When she started to head toward the curtain, though, she saw Chet motioning for her to stay put. Puzzled, she automatically began to collect the bills still littering the stage around her. Go came out, catching the wireless microphone that Chet tossed him.
“Isn’t this pretty lady something, guys?” his voice rumbled as he draped an arm around Sharon’s still naked shoulders. She bit her lip, embarrassed at how her body responded to his proximity, and wondering if the men staring up at them knew it. “She and Kelly have sure been shaking their asses for you tonight… Give them another round of applause!” There were shouts and cheers, and a few more bills were thrown up onto the stage. “In fact,” Go went on, “I wanted you-- our favorite patrons,” he paused as the dancers all over the room reacted with almost reflexive winks and ‘come hither’ smiles at those men nearby, “To be the first to hear about what we’re going to give you all for Christmas.” ‘Free dances!’ someone shouted and the rest laughed, before quieting. Go smiled at the joke, “Well, you know we have our high roller club… If you’re here more than a couple nights a week I’d suggest you look into it. Ain’t nothing free in this world, but you can find we treat the best of our favorite patrons to some truly special perks. There were murmurs as the patrons considered that.
“No, tonight you may have noticed TandA aren’t performing.” Heads nodded, “They were away at a stripping competition… I shit you not,” he said over the laughter, “There is such a thing, and frankly they blew the competition away. I’m proud our girls have walked off with the best of trophy again this year, but it means they’re going to be performing nationwide for several months. Don’t worry,” Go waved his free hand, then pulled Kelly, who’d been instructed to join the others on the main stage, close like he was hugging the topless white housewife, “They’ll be back, But. These two, our hottest new dancers, are going to be the new duo so hot they get you off while you’re sitting watching them.” He winked at the assembled crowd, “Trust me, gents, I’ve seen ‘em do it.” Sharon smiled nervously at Kelly as the men around them cheered. “Of course, they’re going to have to learn the ropes, so not only are we losing TandA, we’re going to see less of them for the next couple weeks.” There were boos, but Go waved them away with his fingertips.
“C’mon, gents, they’ll still be here for your pleasure. But when they’re back and on stage together it’ll blow your mind. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the night’s entertainment,” he began the wrap up, “But I wanted you to know so you can more appropriately show your appreciation to these lovely girls tonight, since it may be awhile before their schedules are free.” Sharon was looking forward to the promised break and did not consider what Go was telling the night’s crowd. “And of course, as usual, we’ll be having a contest to see what their name should be. Start thinking, we’ll accept submissions at the box office, the sound booth, and the bar. Think about it, guys. The usual rules apply: no more than three submissions a person. We’ll tell you who won and what our girls are going to be called as an early Christmas gift when they’re back the weekend after Thanksgiving.” His hands slipped down and he swatted both women on the ass, to the crowd’s amusement, before all three went through the heavy curtain, Phoebe strutting past them, as if determined to make the crowd forget about Sharon and Kelly.
When she had had time to rest, Sharon would admit she should have expected the reaction Go’s announcement triggered. She smiled at Kelly, who seemed nearly asleep on her feet, as the women took seats before the vanities where they prepared for any performance or a round on the floor. Sharon pointed to the clock,
“At least it’s just an hour to last call.” Kelly looked at Sharon in obvious puzzlement, shaking her head almost sadly. Sharon never got to ask what the younger woman meant; neither she nor Kelly even made it to the floor before they were in demand. Geoff stepped through the door from the hall, motioning for both women to join him. Sharon tucked herself into a bra and matching G string, touched up her make up, and followed the smaller, younger woman straight across the back of the main room to the Champagne room. There was a line of men, all of whom brightened, some clapping upon the women’s entry.
While there were always three or four dancers in the plush chairs at the front of the room, posing and batting artificial lashes in an attempt to get some action, the men almost universally were intent on taking a turn with the soon to be limited performers.
Sharon barely had time to down flutes of the champagne between ‘entertaining.’ It was weak comfort that Kelly was kept as busy. The women were not even given time to escort their suitors back; other dancers did that, one bringing the new meat up for his turn while another fawned over the sated customer.
Sharon managed to keep smiling, making the right noises, urging the men on, including a repeat visit from her ‘regular’ and his buddy, who insisted on ‘sharing her.’ She soon regretted her performance in getting them off, as the next 6 guys elected to ‘pair up’ and use her similarly. She never heard ‘Last Call’ announced, and was too busy trying to convince each successive man she was hot to trot and desperate for his cock to realize that she and Kelly were still putting out two hours after Last Call had been announced…. More than an hour after the other women had run out of interested suitors. The clean up crew had reported as usual, to be treated to a more arousing show than was usually the case, and earning the women each a final pair of ‘admirers’ to be serviced before they were left barely conscious on the plush memory foam beanbags that dotted the room.
Only when the young Hispanic who had been panting while fucking into her almost an hour before politely cleared his throat did Sharon struggled upright. She went over to collect her as exhausted BZ Sister, the pair staggering back to the dressing room. Go happened in as they cleaned up.
“God, you should have charged them double,” Sharon pouted, wondering if she would ever be the same again. The big club owner snorted.
“Darlin’, I DID charge them double. But they know you won’t be nearly as available as my top act, so they wanted a last hurrah tonight. You did good. Nap here if you need to, but get home safe. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. TandA will be back this Wednesday, so I’ll expect to see both of you hear before the lunch rush to practice with them.” Like Kelly, Sharon managed a nod, her head still reeling at the idea the endless line of horny men had paid double whatever Go was usually charging to fuck her. How man? She shivered, certain she did not want to know.
On the way home, Kelly was too tired to carry a conversation about what lay in store for them. Sharon listened to her voicemails. Chris had called wondering what day before Thanksgiving she would be home, since it was almost time for the pre break tests. Dave had called reminding her that she did not need to worry about how she did on the tests , BUT warning that she did have to show up for the exams. Groaning, Sharon looked at the blurred numbers on the dashboard clock: 5:42. In less than three hours she had to be at her first final. She nearly panicked, unable to remember for a moment which class was first. Even reminding herself the tests did not matter only eased her anxiety a little; she kept expecting a call that she was failing the courses she had barely attended for the semester. College seemed, simply, too easy. She laughed at that, wondering if she had ever been as tired or had worked as hard as she had in the last eight plus hours. Considering the big parties, she guessed she had maybe had more sex, but she’d enjoyed that sex. It had not seemed like work. This, though… She ran a hand through Kelly’s hair, relieved that they were going to be able to dance together and escape the exhausting work they had been doing at the club.
There was a brief message from Shaun, asking after her, and pointing out he had not been able to see her for weeks since she was working instead of partying. Sharon felt a pang of loss, even as she was relieved that Shaun had missed her. It never occurred to her he could have visited her anytime at her home or the club. That was probably, though, because he had gone on, assuring her there was a party that would be ‘safe’ the coming Friday and he was looking forward to seeing her again before she went home for the holiday.
Sharon was too worried she would not wake up to even try to sleep, a concern Kelly’s near comatose state supported. The women got to their classes, though; Sharon even took a stab at the tests. Fortunately the tests were all in morning classes, so their sessions with Tawny and Adele caused no problems.
Sharon quickly came to enjoy the time she and Kelly spent with the TandA performers. Adele was characteristically dour, acting as if the other women were somehow out to steal her thunder. But she helped out, offering sharp criticisms, followed by reluctant pointers, and by week’s end, grudging praise. Tawny was helpful and supportive if reserved. Kelly and Sharon were both quick to assure the others they were not interested in pushing them out of Snake Eyes; both expected to go home for summer break, when the TandA tour would be finished, so there would be no competition for who was the headliner at Snake Eyes.
Sharon went so far as to remind the more experienced women the last thing she wanted was any attention outside the club; ‘making it’ on the circuit would destroy her marriage. Not for the first time Tawny asked how it was she was stripping and ‘entertaining’ at the club if her husband would not approve. Sharon deftly shrugged, assuring the younger but more world-wise woman she was not sure just how it had happened, only that if she tried to stop doing things that put her marriage at risk, her marriage would be destroyed. Adele snorted it sounded like it was bound to happen at some point, a thought that had brought Sharon awake in a cold sweat more than one night, but after months living the string of lies, she just shrugged, insisting that they were taking steps to protect her, and wouldn’t have any reason to hurt her marriage, so long as she was giving them what they want. The others could not argue with that, and soon enough the ‘how’ of Sharon’s presence as a feature dancer at Snake Eyes had given way to the ‘how’ Sharon and Kelly could wow the crowd working together.
The first time their simulated sex turned into a heated sixty-nine, Adele called a halt, asking pointedly if Sharon thought eating Kelly out on stage was going to be ‘acceptable.’ The new team were puzzled-- they had seen both women screaming and writhing under the skilled touch of the other on stage. Hugging their pupils to dispel the tension Adele had caused, Tawny explained that simulating lesbian sex was the key to success; the women had to be able to keep dancing and moving throughout the show. If either or both really got off, they would quickly not be dancing.
She also mused she had not expected the women to be ‘into’ each other, especially considering that Sharon was actually married. Smiling, Sharon had admitted she had not expected she would actually enjoy having sex with another woman, before adding that Kelly was better with her mouth than Chris was. It did not occur to her that no long before she had consciously avoided making such comparisons.
Between practice working the pole in tandem and realistically performing cunnilingus on stage, the experienced team described some of the variations they could work on, from ‘playing ping pong,’ to using the shower, to ‘toasting’ the groom to be at bachelor parties.
Adele also insisted they get used to ‘dealing’ with the occasional ‘slip of the tongue.’ The first time she did it, Sharon was shocked at the unexpected penetration of the angry woman’s tongue into her sex. Admittedly, the sexiness of what they were doing and were talking about had all of the women more than a little aroused. Sharon arched her back and gasped, then buried her face in Adele’s sex, as she moaned, “Yesss!” The response triggered a similar release in the rigidly controlled bleached blonde, not in small part the idea that a married older woman was willingly eating her out. Instead of calling a stop to it, she lapped at Sharon’s flowing sex, the stud in her tongue proving to be a new experience for Sharon, who came strongly and repeatedly, all while trying to return the attention without letting on she was really going at it.
Watching the real and spontaneous heat the others were going at it before Adele came on Sharon’s tongue, and only after everyone had orgasmed did Adele call a halt. Panting, voice husky with her own arousal, she pointed out she had been ‘testing’ Sharon, adding that at least the mother and wife had made an effort to keep at it instead of simply lying spent after her climax. When Kelly pointed out that the ‘real thing’ had been so erotic she and Tawny had not been able to stop themselves, Adele reluctantly admitted that sometimes really doing it could be a great show.
Tawny warned them, though that it was also strictly illegal; outside of Snake Eyes, it could land them in jail, a place Sharon for obvious reasons would want to avoid. Smiling at Adele, she went on that the down side of cumming once on stage was it was never enough. When Adele nodded at her partner’s unspoken request, Tawny caught Sharon’s hand, adding that she wanted to see just what it was Sharon had done to get Adele off so strongly. Kelly giggled as she moved to ‘practice’ with Adele while Sharon and Tawny enjoyed a prolonged sixty nine on the dimly lit stage. Again, the use of a tongue stud was quick to trigger Sharon’s release, and she found herself asking about the jewelry.
Panting from her own series of climaxes, Tawny stretched, shaking her long bleach blonde hair out as she assured Sharon she ‘did just fine’ without it. Adele snorted, telling the other women Tawny was just scared to imagine how good Sharon would be if she had a tongue stud in place. Tawny elbowed her partner.
“So you’re saying a tongue stud and you’ll leave me for her?” Tawny asked archly. They giggled at Sharon’s obvious distress.
“Relax, Shar,” Tawny laughed, “Adele knows there are precious few women who can deal with her day in and day out.”
“And there aren’t many women confident enough to share their lover with all comers, men and women alike,” Adele countered.
“Ditto,” Tawny sniffed. Before it could escalate, the women kissed, promptly moving into yet another heated exchange, that while similar to what they had been showing Kelly and Sharon, was immediately obviously heartfelt vs. the ‘show’ they had been championing.
Most of the Friday ‘class’ was spent in variations of lesbian sex. When she worried that they weren’t ready, Tawny laughed, assuring Sharon the new pair was more than ready, as sex and responsive as both were. Sharon did not admit that part of her arousal had been the unrealized hope that Go would be there to enjoy her or she and Kelly both. But the club owner had been plainly absent, each day she and Kelly had been at the club. In fact, while she was still a little tired, four nights without sex had the married white housewife almost constantly aroused, hungry for cock. And the passion she had shared with the other women that afternoon did nothing to ease that need.
If Shaun had not called to remind her to ‘be ready’ for a great time Saturday, she would have been calling Dave to ‘entertain’ chip holders or have asked about working a shift at the club. While the Friday ‘class’ had taken the edge off, she wondered if she would be able to sleep, knowing Shaun would be there to pick her up at seven the next morning.
As such, she begged off the other women’s offer to go clubbing that night. Kelly’s delight at being included as a ‘third wheel’ almost made Sharon reconsider, but she was determined to go home to rest. Two of the single servings of Champagne and a healthy bowl of the dwindling weed on her mantle, and Sharon managed to drift off, smiling at dreams of Shaun taking her on the stage at Snake Eyes while Tawny, Adele, and the rest of the girls cheered them on…
Sharon stretched, smiling as she looked up at Shaun. The broad shouldered frat brother was still shaking her shoulder gently. He matched her smile.
“Ready for the day’s adventure, my little BZ Bitch?” he said. Sharon nodded, sitting up, hoping he would notice the arousal of her nipples and choose to start the day off right. He tweaked the pierced side, “Get a shower, then come get some breakfast.” She nodded, hurrying in the shower, wondering if he might actually be fixing something for her to eat. When she came out, wearing a clean white ‘BZ Bitch’ tank top and hot pink short shorts, she found Shaun finishing a plate of eggs and toast. He had set a champagne bottle and granola bar at her place. She started to sit to eat, but he scooped them up with one big hand, swatting her ass with the other. “C’mon, girl, we don’t want to be late.” He laughed at her surprise. Sharon caught the table edge to keep from falling as she reversed direction to stand up again. She slipped a pair of 3” heels on and followed the big ZB Frat member out to his Escalade.
It was just as amusing to Shaun watching Sharon squirm in the passenger seat as they pulled away from her place. When she asked where they were going so early he just laughed, telling her that would ruin the surprise. After pretending to ignore her obvious arousal for a few minutes, he asked if she needed anything. She blushed, biting her lip before shrugging and telling him she had hoped they would have some time to ‘do it’ before leaving for the day’s adventure. He looked at her in feigned ignorance.
“Do it?” she blushed more visibly, nodding.
“I was hoping you would fuck me,” she finally admitted. Shaun nodded.
“Oh, you need a cock?” She nodded, pressing a hand between her legs. He chuckled, “Oh, my little Bitch, never fear, you’ll get some cock today.” Sharon shivered visibly at that. Shaun felt himself getting hard at how completely they had managed to make the white housewife their slut. “But I tell you what,” he smiled, “If you need to get an early start…” Before he had finished, Sharon was slipping out of the seatbelt to lean down, slurping him into her mouth. Damn, but she could suck cock. It was not a long trip to their destination, but even so it was a struggle to hold off until they were pulling into the parking lot.
“Here it comes, baby,” he warned her, pleased at the way the once shy white housewife gobbled at him more eagerly. “Ahhhh,” he erupted, lifting his hips as he got off. Sharon took it all, and went on bobbing her head until he was completely soft… or as soft as he could get with that attention. “We’re here, little bitch,” he reminded her, watching expectantly as she sat up and looked around while wiping her mouth.
“Is this…”
“The airport. Yep,” he zipped up, then climbed out of the big SUV, “C’mon, we don’t want to be late for the flight.” Sharon scrambled out as Shaun retrieved the duffle that had been stored in the closed bed, slinging it as he headed into the terminal.
“OK, but what… I mean, where…” Sharon had to jog to keep up with Shaun’s longer strides. She was more than surprised and impressed when the frat member was able to simply wave at the terminal staff, walking straight through the long single story building and out onto the tarmac. “Uhm, isn’t there a metal detector… or security…” Shaun laughed.
“Little Bitch, this is a charter flight. We own this plane, so we can carry whatever we want aboard,” he looked back, “You don’t know where we’re headed?” Nervous, Sharon shook her head. Shaun was pleased she was apparently willing to go wherever he led. Given what Dave wanted to do in the next few months, it would come in handy. “You got a passport?” Sharon looked at him in surprise.
“Uhm, I do, but not with me. I mean, I didn’t think…” Shaun laughed.
“I’m just teasing ya, we’re staying in the US today.” Sharon just nodded as he guided her to the stairway of the big Boeing 737. “Go on up, say hello to your fans.” Nervously Sharon climbed the stairs, pleased when Shaun’s hand cupped her ass halfway up the mobile stairway. “Hurry up, little Bitch, we don’t want to delay the departure.” Sharon responded, hurrying the rest of the way, almost leaping into the front of the plane. The flight attendant and the pilot or co-pilot were startled, the former frowning at Sharon and her attire, the latter smiling broadly. Sharon chose to ignore the woman’s pinched expression, smiling at the man in the starched uniform, and taking the hand he offered to help her steady herself.
“The party supplies have arrived!” Shaun said, loudly enough for all in the narrow fuselage to hear. Sharon turned her attention away from the pilot to the people already seated in the plane. Three by three seating was separated by a single narrow center aisle. In each row two of the schools football players were stretched out, sharing three seats. Sharon’s heart rate picked up seeing all the big strapping players eyeing her, many smiling knowingly. She saw several of the BZ, and smiled, guessing what Shaun had planned. Casting a dismissive glance at the prudish flight attendant, she sauntered down the aisle, swinging her hips as much as space allowed. The first player to risk groping her got a pause and giggle for his effort. After that, at least one hand was on her bottom every step she took until Shaun cleared his throat. Looking back, she saw him gesturing for her to take the empty row just behind the second partition in the big aircraft. Leaning the big duffel against the divider, Shaun sat down beside Sharon, making sure they were both buckled in.
“So I’m the… in flight entertainment?” she asked him quietly. He smiled.
“Well, not exactly, though it’s a great idea,” he allowed, “We’d have every flight sold out.” He patted her bare knee. “No, girl. The team plays this afternoon, so coaches would be pissed if we distracted any of the team from where their focus should be. This is the rivalry game,” he went on, “In state, but we’re playing it at the big pro stadium just across the state lines… It was just renovated and it means live nationwide coverage and a bigger payday, even though it’s a home game we won’t play at home.” Sharon nodded; she really did not follow football, but had kept track of the school’s team, mostly because several of the frat members were on the team. “I bet you’ll have lots of people interested in some ‘in flight entertainment’ on the way back, but we’re along as… cheerleaders, I guess you’d say.” He pointed at the bag, “There’s some things you’ll be able to use in there, but we’ll save that for later. For now just sit back and enjoy the flight.”
They had the back of the plane mostly to themselves. The starters were at the front, talking strategy and watching tape on the aircraft’s video system with the coaches. The rest of the team and most of the support staff were spread out in the second section. Sharon tried to relax and be patient, but the memory of having Shaun in her mouth, and his proximity, not to mention the prospect of 60 horny football players celebrating a win had her more than a little aroused. She was also nervous, having expected at least a couple of her ‘Sisters’ to be along for the celebration. It was a little amazing to her the coaches would let her ‘celebrate’ with the team, but she had long since stopped wondering at how totally the BZ Fraternity controlled what happened at the school.
Flying had always made her nervous, and as the big jet lumbered down the runway maybe thirty minutes later, she put her hand on Shaun’s gripping him tightly until after they had lifted off and the noises of wheels and flaps closing had faded.
“It’s not a long flight,” he warned her, “Otherwise we would’ve gone last night.” Sharon just nodded, trying not to think about what could have been if she and Shaun had been away someplace overnight. She pressed her thighs together, struggling to stop thinking about the virile young man whose hand she still held. “This is better than using busses… That’s how the other team will get there. We’ll have to bus from the downtown airport, but it’s not a very long trip. It’s the late afternoon game, so we probably won’t get back until well after midnight.” Sharon just nodded. How could he be so calm, she wondered, then decided to tease him a little. She lifted the bottom of her shirt, baring her midriff, before leaning over.
“Shaun?” she murmured, quietly enough he had to tilt his head down toward her.
“Yeah, babe?” She bit her lip, then took the plunge.
“I’m not sure I can wait until after the game.” He smiled knowingly as he looked at her.
“Too long to go without cock?” he taunted her. She flushed, but nodded. “Hmmm,” he scratched his head, eyeing the aroused wife, “Well, have you ever done it in a plane?” Sharon could not believe he was asking the question. Then she realized he was teasing. “You’d never considered joining the mile high club?” She had heard of it, of course, but when would she have been able to do that, having only ever taken commercial flights. The idea, though, of illicit sex in the tiny bathroom of the plane was a definite turn on. And the possibility she might be able to talk Shaun into fucking her… Sharon shivered, dropping a hand into his crotch.
“Have you?” she purred. Shaun lifted a hand to tweak her erect unpierced nipple.
“When would I have done that?” he asked, to avoid answering the question.
“I just figured you always provide ‘entertainment’ on these flights.” He laughed.
“Oh, no, you are special, my little BZ Bitch. We’re looking for new ways to let you enjoy the perks of being our little sister, since you have to be careful about your hubby.” Sharon nodded, pleased they were looking out for her. He slipped a hand inside the waistband of her shorts-- she had not worn panties. His finger easily curled up into her sex, pressing against her clit. She moaned quietly, her seam flowing already. Releasing the seatbelt with his other hand, Shaun stood, guiding the ready blonde by her aroused sex down the aisle to the back of the plane. Instead of turning into the impossibly small bathroom, though, he continued into the small kitchenette, pulling the curtain as he spun Sharon around him, pinning her against the cool aluminum outer wall of the space.
Sharon smiled hungrily, thighs parted invitingly, Shaun’s hand still pressed against her, finger curling into her. Without being told she eagerly worked her thumbs into the waistband of the shorts, shimmying her hips as she worked the thin garment to her knees before kicking them off. Shaun stepped closer, his free hand cupping her breast. Sharon moaned, wanting to feel his hand on her skin. She raised the shirt, baring both breasts, and pressed her chest against his lips as he bent to teasingly bite at both nipples. Her fingers found his jeans, scrambling with the belt, button, and zip. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Shaun moved close, his jutting cock slapping against her mons. Sharon whimpered, trying to tilt her pelvis, wanting to feel him inside of her. He caught hold of his erection with the hand that had been working her sex, teasing her again, not letting her impale herself.
“This what you want, babe?” he taunted. Sharon nodded, hands pulling at his hips, hungry for more. “Oh no, you have to tell me.”
“I want it,” Sharon answered immediately and loudly, not caring who heard, “Give me your big cock… Please give me your big black cock… Fuck me, daddy,” she cooed, shimmying her hips, batting her eyes, and smiling like she had learned to do at Snake Eyes. Shaun chuckled.
“Damn, but you are shit hot, little Bitch.” He slapped the swollen glans against her clit again, and Sharon nearly managed to climb onto him, literally hitching her bare ass up on the curved metal skin of the stall’s outer wall. “I’m your first… Your ticket to the mile high club?” Sharon bit her lip and nodded, hunching at the wonderful cock so tantalizingly close. “What’re you going to do for me?” he teased.
“Anything!” Sharon answered without hesitation, “Whatever you want, baby… just fuck me. Give me your co… ahhhh!” she nearly screamed as he stepped up, seating nearly all of his cock in her more than ready hole, driving her against the metal wall, lifting her off of her feet. Her hands scrabbled at the narrow aluminum counters. Heels rose, pounding at the backs of Shaun’s thighs as he set an easy rhythm, working the rest of his shaft into Sharon’s twitching, hungry cunt.
Their coupling was fierce but almost silent, the pretty white housewife obviously worried their exchange might be overheard, though Shaun was confident the roar of the engines would drown out anything but a scream. It was a sexy distraction, though, watching Sharon struggle not to make a sound.
“Feel good?” he taunted. She nodded, teeth impressing her lower lip. He reached up, tweaking the pierced nipple, then trailed his fingers down to press against her aroused clit. Sharon’s back arched. A tortured whimper of pleasure escaped Sharon’s throat. “They say the throb of the engines makes it better… Is it?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss her neck. Sharon whined, nodding again. “Oh no,” he said, stopping his thrusting, “You know the rules…” Sharon whined again, trying to thrust herself up and down on his cock.
“Fuck me, daddy,” she managed, “Give me that big cock… God, it feels so good… The buzz is amazing, but not as amazing as that big black cock!” He resumed fucking into her again, and Sharon became more active and vocal, panting that it felt good, urging him to fuck her harder. She cried out as she climaxed, and again only two minutes later. By then Shaun was ready to go. Catching her ass in his hands, Shaun stepped back, bringing the willing white housewife almost into the aisle as he huffed ‘Yeah,’ and began to cum. Sharon shivered, delighted at what had happened, and aware it had been too long since she had enjoyed Shaun’s cock… or any cock, for that matter.
Panting, she slipped clumsily off of Shaun’s cock, and grabbing her shorts up, turned gracefully into the main aisle of the plane in order to pivot into the bathroom, to clean up. Smiling, Shaun grabbed a Kleenex to wipe up the last of his spend before closing his pants and sauntering back up to their seats. He ignored the knowing glances of the flight attendants; why should stews be the only ones to enjoy mile high sex! He had not really planned on despoiling the pretty coed-- it could present a problem later, but only if the team lost. He did not think that would happen, or they would have chosen a different cadre of the BZ Bitches to bring along for the rivalry game…
When Sharon returned to her seat, Shaun pointed out they were flying almost directly over her home. Sharon looked out the window but gave no indication she was feeling bad about what they had just done, considering her husband was 25,000 feet below, blissfully ignorant what had happened to his wife since she had returned to school.
The cities were close enough the pilot announced they would be beginning their descent a few minutes later. Just over an hour after taking off, the plane touched down and the team transferred to waiting busses. Shaun led Sharon through the busier terminal, carrying only a smaller backpack he had retrieved from the duffel; the rest was for the celebration on the return flight.
Thanks to the widespread network of the fraternity, there was a silver Mitsubishi Eclipse waiting for them, the keys tucked into the visor. Shaun chuckled at the thumping bass emanating from the trunk as he pulled out, a woman asking to be taught to do it doggie style. Glancing at Sharon, he decided that he had waited long enough; he would have to visit the club to see if Go was serious about how good she was on stage. With that in mind, he got off of the highway and threaded his way through downtown, pulling in at an older four story brick building with a revamped glass wall facing the parking lot.
“We have some time before the game,” he explained as Sharon eyed the sign on the corner of the building, pink neon reading ‘BAZOOKA’S’ below which the outline of a woman doing a straight leg ‘come hither’ bend made it obvious what went on inside. Sharon was visibly nervous.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she started, “I don’t think Go would appreciate it if I danced…”
“Relax, darlin’,” Shaun laughed, “I just thought we’d sit in and watch for awhile.” Sharon shrugged, offering no further objection. They parked, and thanks to the weekend game, found a small crowd was already enjoying the dancers stripping on the low center stage even before 10AM. Sharon sat at the small table, watching the crowd-- men and women-- as much as the women taking their turns on stage. She was momentarily puzzled when Shaun ordered ‘apple and orange’ from the waitress who appeared to take their order. Shaun noticed her expression and laughed.
“It’s a juice bar,” he explained, leaning close to be heard over the pounding music, “We’re on the other side of the state line, and in the city limits they can’t have booze and breasts… It’s one or the other.”
“So there’s no Champagne room,” Sharon asked. Shaun laughed.
“Well, there’s no official blue room, but most places have a back room where guys who want… a series of lap dances from the same gal can enjoy it in at least a semi-private way.” Sharon giggled, considering there was nothing private about Go’s Champagne room. It seemed especially strange that she was not the least bit buzzed as she sat in the club, and that she was not working the stage or the floor. Her body responded, though, which made sitting still even more difficult.
Shaun enjoyed a passable burger and fries platter, while Sharon picked at the chicken Caesar salad he had ordered for her. It tasted good, but she found herself wishing she had a burger, too. Shortly after 2PM Shaun led her out into the sunlight. The responsive little car hummed once he had gotten back onto the highway. He fished a pre-rolled blunt from a pocket, passing it to Sharon., and soon enough she was visibly blessed, smiling absently, fingers roaming periodically over the pierced nipple faintly visible through the thin white T-shirt. They were at the stadium by 3PM. Shaun tucked the keys in the visor, sending a text to let the local BZ organizer know where the car could be recovered.
Giggling, obviously unconcerned about anything, Sharon asked why they were at the ‘park’ so early if the game was not until later. Shaun chuckled, explaining that they were at the stadium early to tail gate, asking if the pretty white housewife had never tail gated before. Sharon shrugged, explaining that her son, Scott, was a tight end and linebacker on his high school team, but added she really did not understand the game, and did not like watching, since she always worried he would get hurt.
She seemed truly amazed at the party BZ Brothers had arranged in a corner of the parking lot near the south end of the stadium. There was beer on tap, tubs of iced cans and bottles, and a full service bar at each end of a long tent. Tables of food lined two sides of the tent, and frat members of all ages were talking and laughing. Several had their wives along, though Sharon noticed the women seemed gathered together in small groups, mostly ignoring what was happening. She did recognize a few less than friendly glares from several of the women, some of whom were no older than she.
“They don’t look like BZ Sisters,” she said to Shaun, who laughed before answering.
“Oh, they’re not. Those are the wives of some of our alumni,” he told her, “So most of them aren’t too happy to see a BZ Sister.” Sharon nodded, fully understanding why they would be upset. She was a little surprised, though.
“They know what we… I mean, what BZ Sisters do?” the thought made her anxious and she wished she had another joint. She unconsciously stopped looking at the other women, wishing she was at the club or at the frat house, instead. Shaun shook his head.
“Well, a couple were BZ Sisters,” he admitted, watching Sharon carefully for a reaction to that. The mother and housewife had obviously never considered that possibility. “And the others have to have some idea, but it’s not like we advertise how y’all… help us out,” Sharon relaxed visibly. “I think they react that way to pretty much any pretty woman they don’t know who comes around…and even to some of the women they DO know,” he shook his head, “It amazes me how often women get all worried they’re gonna ‘lose’ their husband to another woman but can’t just do what they need to do to keep them, you know?” Sharon nodded but her furrowed brow suggested she was at least a little lost. Shaun draped a muscular arm around her shoulders, “Just stay away from them. Ignore them if they get in your way.”
“And here I thought this might be an orgy,” Sharon pouted without really thinking what she was saying. Shaun laughed.
“All things in good time, little BZ Bitch. For now just enjoy the brunch and mingle; I bet you’ll be surprised how many people already know who you are.” Shaun was right. Sharon was casually welcomed into various conversations about business, movies, local events, and sports. She was amazed at how many of the men called her by name, checking more than once to see if somehow a name tag had been pressed onto her chest. She had grown used to men… actually everyone, eyeing her chest more than her eyes; the piercing just seemed to attract attention like that. It seemed totally natural when the conversing men draped an arm around her shoulders, and more than once Sharon found herself hoping one or another of her new friends would take her somewhere secluded to demand she service them. Each time she caught herself thinking like that she blushed, shocked but no less aroused at the idea she might want it.
She told herself it was the champagne; each time someone introduced himself he seemed to have a flute of the bubbly alcohol for her. Sharon had no idea how many glasses she had emptied in toasts and while talking with her new friends. She had been careful only to nibble on the various hors d’oeuvres out of the usual fear she would ruin her figure; she had not recognized the very real decline in body fat she had realized due to the long hours dancing compared to the too scarce, too small meals she had been taking in. There were other women, too, and while they were almost universally more reserved, they at least smiled and shook Sharon’s hand. Some asked who she was with, and when she explained she was a student and a friend in the frat had brought her along, two or three seemed genuinely interested in what she was studying.
All of the women she spoke with seemed intent on complimenting Sharon for being in such great shape. When asked (as happened repeatedly) how she managed, the blonde housewife shrugged and told them she’d had little time for her usual exercises since classes had started, but added that the frat kept her pretty busy when she wasn’t in class, and that she’d taken up dancing,
The entire party was upbeat and enjoyable, and time simply flew by. Shaun reappeared, and Sharon followed, the world spinning pleasantly around them, as he led not to the nearest of the main gates where the majority of the fans were beginning to head in for the pre-game festivities, but to the closely guarded smaller ‘pass only’ side entrance. The placard on the lanyard he’d draped over her head did not have her name, but was an all access pass, and before she could stop wondering at the amazing difference in the way they were being treated compared to the handful or pro games she had attended with her ******, they were standing in a quiet lobby with what Chris would call ‘the pretty people.’ Sharon giggled at that memory, because she found herself staring in awe at a trio of leggy, stunningly beautiful standing nearer to the elevators. Shaun caught her staring.
“They’re trophy wives,” he nodded as if she had said it, inclining his head toward the oldest of the trio, “That one’s the coach’s wife. And that one,” he nodded toward the second, an impossibly buxom brunette, “Is the AD’s wife. His mistress likes basketball more.” Sharon blinked and looked at him in surprise. Shaun shrugged, “She has to know, but if the option is John Q Public working in accounting 9 to 5 or Mr. Big who lets you have whatever you want but occasionally wants some strange, it isn’t such a trade off, is it?” He did not give Sharon much time to think about that, “And it’s not like she hasn’t found her own ways to… enjoy herself,” he winked suggestively. “Besides, you’re their equal, easy.” Sharon blushed, but rolled her eyes, certain he was just being nice. He shook his head, catching her attention, “I’m serious… See how none of them are looking this way? They’re threatened by you being here.” Sharon was amazed, and felt as if she was aglow at accepting he’d meant his compliment.
She did not dwell on the comparison or her reaction to it, as they moved past the manned open bar to one of the four luxurious elevators. Polite uniformed attendants checked their lanyards once more, a process that was repeated when they got off of the elevator, before Shaun led her confidently to the left. He waved and they paused outside a big room. While Shaun and an older black gentlemen spoke quietly, Sharon gazed in at the suite… oversized hi def screens showed the field on each wall. A big marble island was festooned with appetizers and finger sandwiches. A uniformed woman stood behind a fully stocked bar, working quickly to take care of the guests’ orders. Through open oversized glass sliding doors she could see the field beyond, and the back of a row of individual stadium seats. There were at least 30 people moving about or standing talking, with ample room for more.
Twice more Shaun paused, once exchanging the ‘dap’ she had seen members of the frat doing in various combinations. The man who exchanged the flashy ‘handshake’ kept his eyes on Sharon-- roaming up and down her body-- throughout the greeting. Sharon was a little surprised when he did not ask her her name or say anything to her. Sharon ignored what they were talking about, examining the suite beyond the big man. It was almost identical to the first she had seen, sports memorabilia on the walls between the various plasma screens. At least the food appeared different, she thought, as Shaun caught her hand and led her farther down the well lit hall. He did not stop again until he reached an unmarked door just beyond which the open entries to men and women’s rooms waited on the opposite wall. Catching the key card hanging from his lanyard, Shaun opened the door, and then stepped aside allowing Sharon entry.
The blonde housewife was puzzled when she saw the room was much smaller then the ones she had seen closer to the elevators. There was only a tiny kitchenette, a sTandArd bench kitchen table with one bench replaced by 3 chairs. Stepping closer, she realized the window was heavily smoked, which had not been true at the other suites. It was difficult to see there were two rows of 4 stadium seats, on the other side of the glass. Four more of the plastic folding seats were bolted into place between the dining area and the glass. A single small LCD television was mounted to the wall and provided the only light for the small space. The live feed from the various in stadium cameras was playing on the screen.
Shaun shut the door, moving into the cut out of the kitchenette to open the bar fridge beside the sink. He handed Sharon an Asti single serving bottle, smiling at her expression.
“I know it’s not as glamorous as the others,” he shrugged, “But they cost hundreds of thousands, whereas the frat can afford this one.” Sharon nodded, opening the bottle. “Besides,” he winked at her, “This is more private, right?” Looking around, Sharon saw the small suite in a new light… the glass meant she could prance around naked if he wanted her that way. She smiled , catching herself as she reached to take her top off. Shaun smiled as the ensnared white wife struggled between what she wanted and what she knew was ‘right.’ Stepping past her, he spun the chairs to face the field, clearing space before the fixed table. “It’s not the bed at your place,” he winked, “But I think we can make do, don’t you?” Giggling, Sharon immediately stripped off her top, shimmying out of her shorts a few seconds later. She struck a pose.
“Like what you see?” she teased. Shaun smiled, nodding.
“Damn, little Bitch… You are something, you know that? I think dancing has you in better shape then the first time you shook that ass against me in class.” Sharon blushed; it hadn’t happened like that, she was sure, but the thought of him pressing against her ass that day in class built her arousal. She shimmied, like she would leaning against the pole, delighting in the way Shaun stared at her, his own hunger obvious. He stepped close to her. Sharon dropped all pretense, falling to her knees to eagerly open the ZB Brother’s pants, and deftly slurping his swelling tool into her mouth. Groaning her pleasure around his ebony shaft, Sharon began to bob her head, sucking hungrily as she steadied herself with a hand on his muscular thigh. The fingers of her free hand tweaked her aroused clit and teased her drooling seam with practiced skill. Shaun was careful to get a great ‘POV’ angle shot of her eager performance-- no urging needed. And God, he had to admit she was simply amazing. Despite the earlier activity he realized it was going to be a chore to hold off for what he wanted. Pushing her away gently, he smiled at the need and desire obvious on his married whore’s face as she pouted up at him, still frigging herself.
“I want more,” he murmured. Biting her lip, Sharon jumped to her feet, pressing her naked body against his as she moved to climb up and impale herself. Shaun caught her by the waist. The flex of her muscles was more obvious then it’d been the first time he’d taken her, The curve of her ribs was obvious eve in the poor lighting. “Whoa, Little Bitch,” he cautioned, “We already did that today.” Sharon giggled happily, almost prancing from foot to foot, awaiting Shaun’s demand. He cocked his head, listening to the noise outside the heavy glass slider. He caught the remote, increasing the volume. The stadium announcer completed the introductions for the ‘home’ team. He was glad he had agreed to bring Sharon along-- she was without doubt a shit hot fuck.
Winking, he motioned with his finger in a circle. The aroused white housewife spun, bending over the table, offering her firm bottom. Shaun stepped up, flexed his knees, and teased his swollen glans down her dripping seam. It was almost time. Sharon whimpered, shimmying her hips, hungry to feel him inside of her again.
“And now, please stand for the singing of our national anthem…” Shaun teased the panting bitch again, and then as the stadium began to reverberate with the sound of 60,000 voices, he pressed into Sharon’s cunt, gripping her hips in his hands. He held himself buried, as the little white wife and mother arched up off of the table, crying out incoherently. Smiling, he reached around, catching her bare breast in his hand and pulling her back harder as he began to thrust in and out in hard, full strokes. Sharon’s breath jarred in time with the fucking her gave her.
“Yesss!” she mewled, tilting her hips, pumping herself back at him, “God, so good… so good… Fuck me… Fuck me, Daddy!” Shaun pinched her nipple, his other hand dropping around her flexing hips, pulling her away from the table to press her clit firmly on his next thrust. Sharon cried out with ‘the rockets’ red glare!’ and was still twitching and moaning as the anthem ended a minute later. Though tempted to finish then and there-- Go had laughed when Dave had mentioned her using condoms to prevent catching; she was obviously doing something else to not have to worry about it. He knew from past experience, though, that even the easiest BZ Bitches were reluctant to cross over into the almost lavish women’s bathroom to clean up. And she was going to be busy for the next three hours… he could enjoy a proper screwing another time; maybe after she’d been getting hot and bothered dancing for the crowd at Go’s.
Remembering the almost possessive way the club owner spoke about Sharon, Shaun almost rethought his decision. Based on the way his pet white wife had responded all day, though, he knew whatever Go thought, the little blonde was his to use; the club owner might get her off, but he hadn’t stolen her ensnared affections. His musings had taken him far enough that Sharon was moaning in preparation for another climax.
Shaun backed out, and without being told his little slut spun, fingers burying themselves in her empty, dripping seam as she gobbled at his cock, bobbing her head and sucking ferociously throughout his impressive climax. When he was finally totally empty, he patted her head and she reluctantly sat back on her heels. He glanced out the window-- the game had started. He watched as Sharon finished getting herself off while licking the last of his jism off of her lips before she opened her eyes to look up at him.
“Very sexy,” he told her, “Is that what you do for the crowds at Go’s?” She giggled.
“Oh no, baby… You get the full treatment. They just get a show.” She stood up, looking for her clothes. He held out a hand, and she obediently stopped, waiting naked in front of the glass. He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders, unzipped one of the pockets, and pulled out the ‘fantasy’ costume… and fishnet top in the school colors, mimicking a football jersey. Sharon put it on without question. She paused looking at the number, 70.
“Usually it’s 12 or 69. So that’s special.”
“Why?” Sharon asked, brow furrowed.
“Tom wanted you to wear his number.” Shaun didn’t see any reason not to tell her she had an admirer in the frat. Sharon smiled, turning to look out at the field.
“He’s so big…” her voice trailed off, and she pressed a hand against her still bare sex. “He’s a lineman?” Shaun nodded, as he selected the matching ‘boyfriend shorts’ with the conveniently open crotch.
“He’s the left guard… He protects the quarterback… But it’s the defense out there right now.” He watched in amusement as Sharon dutifully slid the tight shorts up her shapely legs. Finished, she pirouetted for him. He nodded, “Good enough to eat.”
“You promise?” Sharon pouted, twitching her ass. Damn, she’d picked up new tricks.
“You have some work to do first,” he said sternly. Sharon glanced around.
“Well, it can’t be too many,” she paused as Shaun snorted.
“Whatever you say.” He took his phone out of his pocket, sent a brief text, and less than a minute later there was a knock on the door. He opened it, pleased that Sharon didn’t try to hide herself even when he left the door wide while their guest came in. “Shar’, this is Tweak. He’s a local ZB. And he’s going to help us out here, today.” Sharon just nodded. “I’m gonna be in and out, so he’ll be the doorman. You know what to do with anyone who comes to… watch the game with you.” Sharon nodded.
“Whatever they want to do,” she answered automatically. Shaun nodded as well.
“Of course, that means he’s going to be busy here, working the hall and the door,” Shaun continued, “So we’d better thank him before anyone comes a calling.” Sharon did not wait. She sauntered across the short hall, dropping gracefully to her knees to open the stranger’s pants. Tweak watched in disbelief as the beautiful MILF began to suck at his already semi-erect cock. He shook his head, struggling after only a few seconds to maintain control, while flashing a ‘thumbs up’ to Shaun. A hanger on, the man was 10 years older than Shaun, and had washed out of college after completing his eligibility playing football for the rival school. But he was ZB, and had been solid when Dave or Shaun was in town and needed something, so Shaun was happy to share his prize Bitch’s skills with his brother.
“Yeah!” Tweak gasped just as he began to fire into Sharon’s bobbing mouth. The well trained white co-ed swallowed with practiced ease, then resumed sucking at Tweak’s spent shaft, cleaning him up. He finally stepped back, pulling free. Shaun motioned to the stadium seats positioned behind the glass.
“Go ahead and enjoy the game,” he suggested to Sharon, “Tweak will introduce you and make sure there aren’t problems.”
“Where will you be?” she asked in a little girl voice.
“Oh I’ll be back. I have to go rub elbows with some of the others, though, first. I’d bring you, but you’re going to help us out, like a good BZ Bitch… a little oral action,” he did not point out it would be more than oral and more than ‘a little,’ “Helps guarantee we get to keep this little box. Don’t let me down.” Sharon nodded, rising smoothly from her kneeling position, uncaring of her near nudity in front of tweak as she took one of the stadium seats, giggling that it was cold as she adjusted herself to watch the game. Shaun was still amazed at how easily they had so totally conditioned the once prudish white wife, Shaun patted her head as if she was an obedient mutt and headed back toward the larger suites.
Sharon did not react when Shaun went out the door. She was not really surprised when Tweak left the door open, leaning in the open doorway. She was nervous, but it was an excited rather than fearful feeling; she was glad Dave wasn’t around with his cameras. She wondered when she would be expected to ‘go to work,’ but need not have worried.
The next time there was a break in the game-- a television time out the announcer said on the television-- Sharon heard several voices in the hall. A few people went into the bathroom, but she heard Tweak say something, and a moment later two older men were sauntering into the suite. Despite having expected ‘guests,’ Sharon was surprised, as she had thought it would be college students visiting her. The men quickly established they were ZB frat members, and asking if she knew what a ‘good Bitch’ did for her brothers.
Sharon stood, flaunting her body as she asked them who wanted to ‘go first.’ She was a little surprised when the smaller of the pair smiled and opened his pants. He pushed the chairs beside the table against the wall and moved behind the fixed seat so she could begin to suck at his erect cock, and she realized quickly enough why his partner had not taken the lead. The bigger, older frat member moved around behind her, grumbling as he opened one of the condoms Shaun lad left in a bowl on the kitchen counter and slipping it on before he began to thrust into her from behind.
Sharon wanted to tell him he didn’t have to use it, but her mouth was full, and Tweak responded before she came up for air.
“Shit man, you wouldn’t want sloppy seconds, and neither do the other grads. Enjoy reliving your glory days, then go back to the wife without her having to ask why your crank smells like strange.” The guy Sharon was blowing laughed in a groan.
“Yeah, Trent… God you a good cocksucker… Trent, you want skin to skin, feed her your pole.”
“Naw,” Trent drawled, thrusting into Sharon harder and faster, “This is just fine…” He slapped her nearly naked ass, “You are fine, honey. Better then on tape.” Sharon moaned around his friend’s cock, aroused that the man knew who she was, and as ever scared that people she had never met knew who she was and what she was doing because of pictures Dave had taken. She could not dwell on it, though; about that time the guy in her mouth stiffened and began to cum. She slurped it down without effort, moaning again in encouragement as the guy stepped back, watching his buddy continue fucking her from behind. Looking toward the door, Sharon realized Tweak was watching from his position against the doorjamb. And there were two more ZB grads waiting in the short hall.
As she watched, Tweak cleared his throat, turning as if he was coming inside. Simultaneously, the other guys shifted, obscuring her view of the hall; or more accurately obscuring the view into the suite from the hall. Sharon heard women talking-- one of them even spoke to tweak. Somehow the risk of having people walk by so closely with no idea what was happening in the small suite was an incredible rush, and Sharon groaned and shuddered in a brief but satisfying climax.
“Damn, the little Bitch is hot,” Trent told the others, catching hold of her waist with both hands, “I’m about done here.” As he picked up the pace, Sharon dutifully tilted her hips and flexed her knees, pushing back to meet his thrusts and purring just loudly enough for him to hear. “Yeahhhh…” He went still for a moment, then backed out. Even before he had finished, though, one of the new arrivals had opened his trousers to feed her his cock. “Hold up,” Trent said, and the guy pushed at Sharon’s face a few more times before grudgingly backing out, “Does the Bitch know all the rules?” He was holding the condom he had stripped off in one hand.
Licking her lips, Sharon stood up from where she had been kneeling in the stadium seat, snatching the limp latex sleeve in her hand. Tweaking her pierced nipple with her free hand, she trapped the open end of the sheath between her teeth and lips, upended it, and then used her hand to milk his semen out and into her mouth. She finished by swirling her tongue in the emptied condom before throwing it at the little trashcan she had noticed beside the table. The men laughed and clapped as she resumed her position, slurping her new friend’s ready cock into her mouth. His friend didn’t hesitate in slipping another of the prophylactics into place before taking Trent’s place, pushing into her from behind.
“C’mon, man, we don’t want Denise and Yon to come looking for us,” Trent’s friend urged. The larger man laughed.
“No, that’d be a real problem. But you know, I may just have to come relieve myself again, say in the third quarter.” Sharon heard them talking and laughing as they headed down the hall toward the other suites. By the time the second pair had finished, another man was patiently waiting his turn. Glancing at the television, he sighed, stepping up to have her blow him. Sharon watched out of the corner of her eye as she began to bob her head; they were in another time out.
Pretty quickly the pattern was obvious to the increasingly experienced housewife. Whenever there was a break in play, some of the ZB Brothers who were enjoying the big suites would slip away-- she guessed under the ruse of using the rest room-- to enjoy themselves. And while more arrived whenever there was a play stoppage, she was kept busy almost without pause until halftime.
One of the few times she was watching, the offense was out, moving the ball down the field.
“You got a special interest or just a supporting your school?” Sharon looked up to see one of the men she had met in the tent party before the game. She remembered his wife, a chesty brunette who had been nice to her. A pang of guilt-- rare any more-- stole her voice. “Well?”
“Uhm, I-I guess I’m just supporting the team.” The man chuckled, his eyes roaming over her barely covered body.
“That’s not the usual number our entertainment wears,” he pointed out. Sharon shrugged, leaning back, ******** herself to him, in no small part to end the conversation.
“The left guard,” she surprised herself by knowing the position, “He’s a… he’s a friend.” The man nodded as if he already knew that.
“Gardner’s good,” he agreed, and Sharon assumed he meant Tom. She was a little embarrassed she did not know the boy’s name, “I hear he’ll be a first round pick, maybe this year, next year for sure.”
“Pick?” She asked, then stopped immediately. BZ Bitches were to be seen, not heard. The man laughed, though.
“The draft? The NFL? The boy’s gonna have a great career as a pro.” He eyed her again more speculatively, “So you’re the one.”
“I’m the one what?” Sharon expected a description of something she’d done in front of a camera. She sometimes wondered if every ZB Brother had a ‘Best of Sharon’ DVD at home. If she had known how thorough Shaun and Dave were-- every Brother in or out of school who had private email got a steady supply of what was going on in all the BZ Houses across the country. And for that year… hell, for any year in memory, Sharon, the hot housewife, was THE Bitch; all the frat members wanted to meet her.
“I heard one of the team’s hot picks was sweet on one of the Bitches.” Sharon was rocked by what he was saying. She barley managed to keep from saying, ‘But I’m married.’ “Course, I don’t know the last time that worked out…” Sharon blushed, embarrassed… what never worked, her age, her race, that she was a BZ Bitch putting out for all of the frat? “No, that’s not true… What was his name… Jenkins… no Jenson, he married a Bitch from his home frat. And that Tompkins kid… he was a running back. His sweetheart was a cheerleader, but she was also a BZ Bitch,” he shrugged, “So it happens. Sharon shook her head, lifting her left hand to show off her wedding ring. The big man leered. “Oh, that’s right,” still leering, he unzipped, fishing out his rising cock, “Well, let’s just see what hubby’s missing.” Biting her tongue, Sharon moved to take him into her mouth, but the man waved his finger in a ‘no’ gesture before he unrolled a condom onto his impressive prick. “Oh no, I want to truly sample the finest Bitch we’ve seen in years. Turn back around.”
Sharon found herself bracing against the glass as the man thrust himself into her violently. She wanted to taunt him, to ask if he was only a man when he was humiliating women. She’d automatically went into her usual sex patter, knees flexing, pushing back to meet his thrusts, tilting her pelvis to change the pressure for them both. As angry as she was at what he’d said, she quickly found herself approaching a climax… the man knew how to fuck. She found herself staring down at the field, eyes locked on Tom down below. The idea he saw her as more than just a BZ Bitch was ridiculous. Even so, the thought he saw her as something special only pushed the buzzed, over sexed white wife closer to her climax.
Whether it was the change in her breathing or something more subtle, the man thrusting into her obviously sensed how close she was. She was dimly aware of his hand slipping down around her hip, and then there was pressure against her clit as he put his fingers at the top of her seam. Sharon’s breath caught. He went still, buried fully inside of her.
“Yeah, little Bitch,” he cooed, leaning over her to whisper, “You’re gonna cum… Get me off… Milk me with that hot pussy.” Sharon nodded, groaning as she began to do just that. The brute pushed at her again, and she felt him start to cum, too.
Sharon’s eyes went wide. The condom! She started to jerk forward but his hand held her in place. Behind her, the man began to chuckle.
“What, little Bitch? Afraid you might catch? Might take a black baby back home to hubby?” She saw he was holding his left hand out so she could see-- he had stripped the condom off before he’d begun to fuck her. Sharon was outraged. She knew Shaun would be mad; she was supposed to be able to keep putting out for the others in the suites. The awful man seemed to know what she was thinking. “You won’t tell him or I’ll insist when you saw how big I was you told me not to use a condom. Who do you think Shaun will believe?” He chuckled confidently, “When I’m done, I’m going to slip a card into that little box. Tell that idiot you need to use the ladies’ room. Clean up, but save the card for the next time you want a real cock.” and then he reared up, shouting theatrically as if he was cumming.
As he pulled out, he deftly pushed something up inside of Sharon, then feigned stripping off the condom which he handed to the shocked housewife. Afraid to call the man’s bluff, Sharon pretended she was emptying the unused rubber before standing, clamping her thighs tight in hope of hiding what the man had just done to her. She grabbed a mascot sweatshirt someone had left, relieved it was an XXXL and hit almost her knees as she bolted past the surprised Tweak, mentioning that she had to pee. The brute who’d just used her bareback said something she didn’t hear and both men laughed.
Safely in the bathroom, Sharon paused to grab paper towels and wet them before ducking into a stall to attempt a clean up. She found herself wishing she had brought a bottle of water to serve as an impromptu douche. The man’s business card, folded lengthwise, slipped out into her hand, and at a loss for what to do with it, Sharon put it between her teeth. She grimaced, angry that she was tasting the spend of the man who’d been such a brute. She was outraged that he would expect she would call him, and was tempted to simply flush the card with the towels, but she did not. She was a little surprised the card was not already ruined, but by the glossy finish, she wondered if it was even a paper card at all.
She glanced at the card, wiping it off. Reginald Luthor. It did not ring any bells. She tucked it into a cut in the heels she was wearing, then flushed and stepped out of the stall. By the time she had washed her hands and came out of the bathroom, the man named Tweak was starting toward the women’s room, an anxious if not angry look in his eyes.
“C’mon, Bitch,” he scolded, checking the hall, “You’ve got company. Sharon nodded obediently and let the man hustle her back into the dimly lit suite. Two more of the men she had met just a few hours before, talking to they and their wives, were impatiently waiting a turn with the ‘hot BZ Bitch.’
There was not another break before halftime. Sharon was initially puzzled that she got to watch the show down on the field at halftime, but reasoned the men who had been enjoying her were likely spending time with their wives. She was embarrassed at the thought that she was cheating so close to the men’s wives; she had seldom considered that likely many of the men using her at Snake Eyes were married. Shaun had not returned before play resumed, and if anything more men were visiting when the third quarter started. Sharon wondered if the sexy routine the cheerleaders had done had something to do with it.
As the game wore on, more of the men taking their turn teased her, asking if she was ready ‘when her guys lost.’ She did not know what to say, in part because they were up by 6 points. Even when the other team kicked a field goal she never considered they might lose. She was being double teamed when the problems started; she missed the unforced interception that was run back to the 25. She heard the crowd react, a moment later, when the opponents got the ball into the end zone overcoming a fourth and short yardage hurdle on the 18 yard line.
The pair who had just finished up with her hooted and high-fived over her body. Seeing that time had run out, Sharon was grateful the game was over. She rose, moving casually to the little fridge to open another of the personal size Asti’s, washing down a banana from the bowl on the counter. She looked for her clothes, assuming she was supposed to at least put them on over her ‘uniform’ before they returned to the plane. It was another minute before she noticed the way Tweak was smirking at her. She put a hand on her hip trying not to sound irritated.
“What?” she asked, immediately hesitating, hoping she had not sounded too confrontational. The disagreeable little man smiled more broadly.
“You don’t know?” he hooted, “Did you know your boys lost?” Sharon glanced at the television again. Sure enough there were students covering the field, but they were wearing the wrong school colors. She tried to remember if the game had been a ‘must win,’ whatever that meant. She had heard the frat members describing other games as such, but had not been around the frat for a couple weeks.
“Uhm, it isn’t the end of the season,” she was puzzled, and grew more irritated that Tweak was pleased she was clueless. He just shook his head. She shrugged, “OK, I give up.”
“Oh, you’ll give it up, all right,” he cackled, “You think these greybeards were work, just wait.” Sharon tried not to let the smarmy little man scare her. She wished Shaun would return. Spying her T shirt and shorts, Sharon scooped them up and lifted a leg, balancing as she began to dress over the day’s outfit. “I’m not sure you should do that,” Tweak started, then shrugged, “But I guess you got to get down there somehow…” She paused, looking at him, but he did not elaborate. Just after she had gotten her top on, Shaun came in through the doorway. A lanky young man with deep black skin was smiling broadly, his arm around her man’s shoulders. She stared in surprise; Shaun was obviously unhappy. She winced, wondering what she had done wrong.
“Shit, man,” the young ZB said by way of compliment, “This is The Sharon?” Shaun pursed his lips, nodding. The man stepped past Shaun, tilting his head in a strangely birdlike manner as he eyed her from different angles. “She looks like your prize bitch.”
“It IS Sharon,” Shaun said, anger obvious in his voice, “You tryin’ to say I’d cheat?” The taller but less powerfully built stranger raised his hands, ducking his head unconsciously.
“Naw, bra, I’m just sayin’ you didn’t expect to lose her tonight.” Sharon blinked at that, looking between the men. The stranger looked over at Tweak. “Is she good?” The oily little man leered.
“She’s shit hot, man.” The newcomer snorted.
“Great, but will she be able to handle what we brought three BZ Bitches to do?” Tweak shrugged.
“Truth, man, she may just survive the whole team.”
“If you’re worried I can send some others, say after practice next week…” Shaun started.
“You wish. No, you thought you could flaunt your AVN candidate to get a taste of more of our girls. Looks like we get to see what sort of a star she really is, instead.” The muscles in Shaun’s jaw were knotted.
“She better not be marked up,” he warned.
“What, or your boys won’t want her no more?” the tall man sneered, “Hell, she took guys all game but I didn’t hear anyone decide to take a pass.” Shaun inhaled, shaking his head.
“Not what I meant,” he said, pivoting, his more muscular torso seeming to pin the gangly man against the wall, “It’s Thanksgiving break.”
“So what?” Shaun shook his head.
“So she has to go home. Do the housewife thing. If you send her home marked, we’re ALL fucked. Is that clear enough?” Sharon bit her lip, watching the men, listening, still unsure what was happening. The tall young man shrugged again.
“Shit, she isn’t marked up now, man. I’ve got 96 guys on roster, 111 if you include my boys.” Shaun glowered but did not argue, “Now most of the basketball team didn’t make the trip. A half dozen already headed out to get checked at the hospital. And another 4 or 5 were already nicked up and didn’t make the trip. There’s four bible thumpers and four or five who’re not into sharing. A handful are here with ****** or girlfriends, but there’s also a few of the coaches who’re in on what’s going on; they may want a turn.” Sharon had a sinking idea she knew exactly what they were talking about. “Call it 100.”
“I don’t care if it’s one thousand. Nobody marks her up, that was explicit when we talked, remember?” The twitchy young black snorted.
“Sure, sure.”
“Make sure they remember… If someone marks her up, they’ll owe me. They don’t want to owe me what my favorite Bitch is worth.”
“I hear ya. Hell, she’s helping us out here, so nobody wants to screw this up.” Finally Shaun seemed appeased.
“Where are we going to do this, then?”
“Oh no,” the tall man lost his smile, “That’s not happening and you know it. Never has.”
“This is different.”
“No, it’s not. It’s special,” he flashed that smile again, “Hell, it may be the best incentive we’ve ever had to win both basketball games so we can play with her some more.” Shaun pushed his fists into his pockets. “But it ain’t different. She’s a BZ Bitch. We won use of her, fair and square.” He held out a long fingered hand, which Sharon found herself taking without being told. “See, she knows her place. Now I told you, we’ll treat her right.”
“How am I gonna get her…”
“Tweak can take care of that, right man?” Tweak bobbed his head, seeming to mimic the taller younger man’s mannerism. The big athlete did not recognize it or did not care. He led Sharon out of the little suite without hesitation. Sharon had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Already the open suites and halls were nearly empty. The young man calmly led her onto the big empty elevator, pressing a button, then turning his attention to her.
“Damn, bitch!” he smiled, “No wonder Shaun wanted our whole Freshman class.” Sharon blinked at him, not comprehending. “You do know you are shit hot?” She bit her lip and smiled at the compliment, shrugging. “Well, you’ve heard of trophy wives?” She nodded. “Tonight you’re the team’s trophy.” Sharon nodded again, more apprehensively. “Everybody gets a turn enjoying the best known BZ Bitch in the country.”
“Everyone?” Sharon asked hesitantly, “I have to be back to the plane before they leave…”
“Don’t worry,” the young man smiled and waved a hand dismissively, “Like I told Shaun, Tweak will talk to your boys; he’ll figure out a way to get you home.” Sharon realized they had gone past the main level where she had gotten onto the elevator before the game. “Do you know who I am?” the tall black asked her. Sharon shook her head. “I’m MarKing Norris. I’m on the basketball team.” He ran his eyes up and down Sharon’s body, “And I don’t mind saying I’m gonna take a turn with that hot body, too. I hear you’re dancing now, too?” Sharon nodded, glancing at the camera in the corner of the elevator and wondering if there was a microphone on the unit. “We’ll just see if the celebration has started before I find out if I get you first,” he winked, “Well, first to enjoy you as our trophy… or last.” He cupped his groin suggestively and without thinking about it, Sharon’s gaze followed his hand. She stared at his crotch, amazed after what she’d spent most of the last three hours doing that she could still get excited. “Who knows,” MarKing continued, “Maybe Shaun will put you up for a bet on the basketball games, too. Then you could take my big brother and I at the same time,” he winked, “And I do mean Big.”
“Can we get something to eat?” Sharon realized her head was spinning; she had finished too many champagne servings with too little food. He laughed, catching Sharon’s hand again as the elevator doors opened, and leading her into the bare, gray and red painted concrete walls of the stadium’s locker rooms.
“Oh, we’ll get you fed.” The tall black basketball player waved at the guards, who eyed Sharon knowingly, letting the couple through the closed double doors and through the short hall into the visitor’s locker room. Sharon could already hear the shouting and cheering as she followed MarKing through an empty aisle of lockers and benches bolted to the floor.
An almost palpable masculinity filled the air, the odor of stale sweat and liniment, the slight haze of steam from the open showers some of the players were already using, and the adrenaline rush that had not yet eased in the wake of enjoying a come from behind win defeating the much favored opponent. Sharon’s skin was goose pimpled in response. Marking led her away from the noise to another unlit bank of showerheads, and Sharon wondered if she was going to find herself being used there on the tile floor. Instead, the ZB Brother moved past the showers to a small room. Inside, Sharon saw a massage table had been set up. She glanced at the windows, all of which had blinds that had been pulled. MarKing pointed toward the leatherette table.
“Well, get comfortable. It sounds like the party is underweigh; coach will want to head out within an hour, so you’ll have to shake that married ass unless you want to wind up in the bathroom on the bus,” he wrinkled his nose, “I wouldn’t want to have to do that.” Sharon nodded, stripping off the clothes she had put on. When she started to push the split crotch shorts down her legs, though, MarKing put a hand on her upper arm. Sharon blushed at the way she shivered at his touch.
“Naw, leave those on,” he smiled wolfishly, “I think the guys will like fucking over one of their Pussy Cats.” Sharon nodded, trying to decide whether she should lie down or sit or lean over the table. She blinked when MarKing flipped the banks of fluorescent overhead lights on as he went out. Looking around, Sharon was relieved that the blinds were closed-- there wouldn’t be cameras recording what she was about to experience. Had they really said 100 people? She had no idea how many men had already used her that night, but the idea that 100 strangers would want to use her for their pleasure was frightening.
Before she could even consider jumping up to leave, there was the sound of approaching feet. MANY feet. The young men, most still partly in their uniforms, began to push through the door into the small room. Sharon watched their smiles bloom as they saw the night’s prize-- her. Keeping a hand on the massage table, she moved back and forth, showing herself off, as if she was showing herself off for prospective champagne room customers.
A burly lineman, his features vaguely Asian, his gut anything but appealing stepped forward, groping Sharon’s breasts through the transparent costume top. Sharon moaned loudly enough that the guys grew quiet as his fingers roughly pinched her nipples. He smiled, reaching down to strip off his jock strap. Sharon’s gaze followed the motion, but his belly hid his crotch. Without a word, he spun her around to face the table, pushing her forward, deciding the position for her a moment before he drove his erection into her sex from behind.
Sharon gasped as the young man thrust in and out hard and fast. He was not huge, but he was bigger than average, she could tell automatically. He had been rutting into her for almost a minute when she realized that he was not wearing a condom. She arched her back up, looking for Shaun or MarKing, or even Tweak.
“Condom!” she gasped, before realizing another player had moved around the table. The lanky player, still wearing his pads, had pushed his pants down to free his erect cock. She dutifully leaned back down on the massage table, slurping the second cock into her mouth, even as the first player went on rutting into her.
SMACK! He landed a heavy slap on her right hip, and Sharon screamed around the cock pushing into her throat. The recipient of her oral attention groaned at the different sensation.
“No condoms tonight, little Bitch,” the first player laughed, “We get you however we want you.” Sharon shivered at the thought, but did not argue… she really could not argue given her position. She was relieved to hear other players warning their teammate not to ‘mess her up.’ The brute slowed, and then held himself still inside of her as she finished getting the second player off with her mouth. The moment the sated young man stepped back, the first player moved around, pushing his wet cock into her mouth. Sharon accepted it without hesitation, and was not surprised to feel someone else pushing into her from behind even before the first player unloaded in her mouth.
“Spank that ass!” she heard someone urge, and jerked, moaning again around the first player’s swollen cock, when the new player slapped her ass right where the first had done so before. “Yeah, a hummer!” he chuckled loudly, then cut loose without any warning, filling Sharon’s mouth and throat. Sharon was still struggling to catch her breath and swallow the last of his jism down when another cock was presented for her to service. The man fucking her spanked her again when the player she was blowing told him to. Hoping to end the painful spankings, Sharon began to moan around the new cock without the prompting, but by then the team had found their rhythm… their sexual playbook, so to speak.
The helpless blonde housewife endured the first dozen players without any change in the routine… suck one off while being fucked by another, finishing them both with her mouth, and enduring the stinging smacks as if she was a bronc being spurred out of the chute. Sometime during the second dozen, someone decided to fuck her ass, and after that, one of the other hole was always plugged as she struggled to get them off with her mouth.
She was into the third dozen players, having finished the defensive and offensive starting line ups when she begged for a break between being fed strange cock. The players just laughed, taunting her, reminding her she was a BZ Bitch, and that she was their trophy for the night. The friction was becoming uncomfortable, though, and by the time she had hit the halfway point, she was begging for someone to get some lube. They paused, but only long enough to spin her onto her back, leaving her head hanging off of the table as the gang or players fucked themselves into her throat, ignoring her pleas… Or almost ignoring her pleas. They were still spanking her ass or hip, always the right side.
Having ******* her breasts, they began to tweak her nipples, too, laughing as she writhed and whined around whatever cock was pushing into her mouth. It was almost welcome when each new player preparing to thrust into her pussy or ass paused to spit on her crotch, taunting that she had all the lube they needed or warning her to ‘get ready,’ or some other mindless prattle before sawing in and out. Sharon struggled not to give in to the discomfort and fatigue that were making clear thinking hard. Sex had long since stopped being enjoyable for her; it was an ordeal to endure, and she was terrified of what would happen if she didn’t succeed in satisfying everyone. Each time one of them pulled out of her aching cunt, she hoped it was the last, only to feel someone else thrust into her. Along the way she knew that more than two or three had finished off inside of her; she found herself grateful for the additional lubrication it offered.
She was only partially conscious for a time, whimpering whenever her mouth was empty, but obediently sucking and humping at whatever cock was pushed into her mouth or seam… She was dimly aware that someone… looking up blearily she knew it had been more than one someone, had finished off by spraying her chest. She giggled weakly, seeing her top had been rolled up to her armpits, completely baring her breasts. She frowned, seeing that her unpierced nipple was a deep purple, but her disjointed thoughts could not stay on topic as another cock slapped against her cheek. She opened her mouth, accepting it like a good Bitch, wondering why she felt so full when she had had so little to eat during the day.
Sharon sputtered as warm water splashed over her back. She found herself on her hands and knees in the shower. Someone was ass fucking her from behind. She looked up, realizing in embarrassment it was not the showerheads but several team members peeing on her from all angles. Sputtering as urine sprayed her face and soaked her hair with the scent of their masculinity, she glanced back; MarKing was fucking her. Leering at her, he pulled out, plunging his soiled cock balls deep in her pussy.
“Yeah!” he sighed, and she felt him pulsing deep between her legs, “You are a hot bitch… You took the whole team and half of the coaching staff.” Sharon panted, struggling to stay focused. Her entire body ached, but her right nipple and groin were especially sore. Finished, he pulled out with a flourish and she felt his jism and others’, she was sure, oozing out of her loose cunt. The men surrounding her cheered. She was still being showered in urine; obviously new players were stepping up to do the job. Knowing it might cause problems, Sharon flopped to her side, hand cupping her crotch. She shuddered, sure she would never be the same again. Would she ever be able to enjoy sex again?
“Gentlemen!” a voice boomed from the doorway of the otherwise dark half of the locker room, “Don’t make me come in there to see what’s going on. We’re already an hour behind schedule. Get your shit packed up and get on the busses… Good job tonight, gentlemen, you earned your celebration.” There were shouts and cheers. The seemingly unending rain of urine dried up and the press of young men surrounding her began to ease. Sharon simply lay on her side, panting, wondering how it had happened that she had come to be lying naked with a hundred young men having used her. Had it only been an hour? As she struggled to sit up a minute later, she whimpered at the burning that any movement of her labia caused. Holding her knees wide apart, she managed to crawl over to the wall to turn on the nearest showerhead, gasping at the freezing cold water, then whimpering again as her body moved involuntarily, pressing her raw rubbed inner thighs together, and exacerbating the burn.
“Was it good for you?” MarKing asked from the edge of the shower stall. Sharon managed to shake her head ‘no.’ “Really? You seemed to be getting off… at least at first. But taking a hundred guys… Hell, that’s a pretty impressive feat, even if you’ve got all day.” He motioned for her to come over, which she did obediently, hoping he had a towel. He held out a pen, pointing to the page he had on a clipboard, “Could you give me your autograph,” he hesitated and smiled, “I want to be able to remember the night I banged the BZ Bitch of the year.” Sharon took the Sharpie pen he offered, scribbling her name where he pointed without thinking about it. He whipped the clipboard away, eyeing her bruised nipple for a moment, then shrugging.
“Are you gonna be okay?” Sharon nodded. “Gonna come back for the basketball bet?” He laughed at the way Sharon blanched, “Oh c’mon, it’s not nearly as many guys… You might actually like it.” Sharon blushed, but shook her head. “Then it’s a good thing I got to enjoy you tonight,” he smiled, “Did we leave you too sore?” Sharon started to shake her head ‘no,’ but God, it hurt. She nodded briefly. MarKing held up a small baggy with a pearlescent ointment inside.
“Get cleaned up,” he said, “Tweak will be along to collect you once the bus it gone.” Sharon nodded. “Dab a little of this on your pussy when you’ve finished in the shower… It’ll help,” he smiled, “Then do it again each day until it’s gone.” He added a card, “If you need more, just shout; that’s got my cell on in.” He looked her in the eye, “You really are amazing, little Queen Bitch… Like it or not we may have to insist Shaun put you up as the stakes for the next bet.” He swatted her ass with his left hand, making Sharon gasp. Ignoring it… chuckling, even, the tall young black man sauntered down the darkened locker room aisle. In the low lighting in the shower stall, Sharon winced at the obvious bruising on her hip… So much for not marking her up, she pouted, wondering if it would be gone before she had to dance again.
Not wanting Tweak to see her standing naked-- the last thing Sharon wanted was to have someone else fuck her-- she showered hurriedly before looking for her clothes, which had mysteriously gone missing while she was being gang banged. She found the sexy top and crotchless shorts on the massage table, but the T shirt and her shorts were nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a ratty oversized hoodie, that stank of one of the football players. She wrinkled her nose, more at wearing the rival school’s gear, than the odor, but was glad that it reached her mid thigh when she put it on.
Belatedly she remembered the ointment MarKing had given her. Retrieving it from the shower, she carefully collected a bit of the oily material on her fingers, rubbing it over her sort pussy lips, all the way up to her clit hood. Almost immediately, the aching burn eased, to her relief. She put the resealed baggie in the front pocket of her hoody, then wandered toward the main door, wondering if she should exit the locker room before Tweak arrived.
“Little Bitch?” she heard him call, making the question moot, “Let’s go… don’t keep me waiting.” He smiled when she hurried out of the other end of the aisle of lockers to find him standing at the door MarKing had brought her through after the game. The guards were gone, and only security lights provided any illumination. Tweak leered at her, “Now that’s what a BZ Bitch should look like… Well fucked and supporting the winning team.” Sharon just kept approaching, relieved the night was over. He led her through a different hallway, and she was surprised when they exited glass double doors into an underground parking garage. Looking around, she saw only a few cars. Sodium lamps cast a greenish light over the unpainted concrete surfaces. Tweak caught her by the elbow, turning her and leading her a short distance to a small alcove between the exit and the doors they had just left the complex through.
Sharon hesitated, seeing a small, garishly bright green motorcycle. Tweak laughed at her response.
“Never been on a rice rocket?” Sharon shook her head ‘no.’ Motorcycles were dangerous. Tweak fiddled with the other side of the bike near the rear wheel before standing up with a matching green helmet. He held it out as he put the key in place between the handlebars, the reached down to the left side of the bike, turning a small knob. He pushed a small lever down near the back of the same side of the bike as soon as Sharon took the helmet. When he looked back at her, obviously meaning to tell her to do something, he paused, obviously exasperated.
“Uhm, you’re supposed to wear the helmet.” He moved a hand in front of his face, “Less chance of anyone seeing you, right?” Sharon reluctantly put it on. The inside smelled faintly of perfume, and she wondered who else Tweak had chauffeured around on the motorcycle. He watched her fumble with the nylon strap for a moment, then reached up and quickly if a little roughly cinched it tight. It was hard to hear him. “Climb on the back,” he instructed, then gestured. She did, perching awkwardly on the little struts that jutted from each side of the bike. “Keep your feet on the pegs,” he said, Sharon looked around awkwardly, the pegs? “Relax,” he said, patting her knee, “It’s what your feet are on right now. Don’t take them off of the pegs.” Sharon nodded. “Lean the way I do when I do,” he said next. Sharon nodded again. “Spread your knee here,” he said, patting her left knee. Sharon did, wondering if he was about to thrust something inside of her.
Instead, he swung his leg up in front of him and stepped over the bike seat. He straightened the handlebars and brought the bike up off of the stand, the seat shifting and changing Sharon’s center of balance. She instinctively grabbed him around the waist. Tweak chuckled, and she felt the vibration as he turned his head.
“God I love motorcycles… works every time.” She had to smile at that. He fiddled with a button on the right handlebar and the engine stuttered to life. As the engine speed steadied, Tweak kicked the stand up with his left foot, then stepped on a small pedal on the left side before the engine noise changed and the bike pulled smoothly out of the narrow parking slot.
As Sharon got used to the motion and noise and her awkward perch on the small back seat of the bullet bike, she began to look around. Tweak’s feet were tucked back, fairly near hers. The position left the front of her crotch pressed against the seat, and she was glad for the ointment MarKing had given her. The little bike accelerated with impressive power and they streaked through the nearly empty parking lot. It was November, and the air was almost bitingly cold on her bare legs. When the wind yanked the tail of her hoodie up, she gasped at the cold air that reached her nearly naked ass. Reaching back with one hand, she pulled the sweatshirt hem down tucking it under her bottom against the seat. She was glad they were just exiting the expanse of empty asphalt, so that no one had seen her ****** herself.
The nimble bike jumped onto the highway, looping south around the city. Sharon belatedly realized they were heading away from the airport. She shouted ‘plane?’ and was not sure whether Tweak’s head shake meant ‘no’ or whether he simply had not heard her. At highway speed, though, she found her entire focus was on keeping the hoodie tucked under her ass… at least, at first. As her legs grew colder she found herself reaching down one hand at a time to rub the bare skin, and stopped worrying about whether she was showing herself off to passing motorists. From the appreciative honks that trailed in their wake, she was relatively sure she was, and was doubly thankful for the helmet.
As distracting as the cold and the hoodie was the realization that her abused pussy was strangely getting warm. She first noticed as Tweak took the exit for the highway leading toward her home town. As the heat became more insistent, she was embarrassed to realize it was arousal. It was several minutes before she decided it must be the vibration of the engine being transmitted through the bike seat, the way she was seated behind Tweak. Instead of shifting to reduce the pressure and vibration, the white housewife let the pleasure build, relieved she could still feel that after her night.
Tweak sat up more straightly and slowed as they entered the small city where the rival school was located. Sharon giggled at the thought that at least she was wearing the right colors and mascot for the town. She found herself wishing Tweak had not stopped running the bike all out-- when he sat up, she had to shift back, and the delicious buzz she had been enjoying eased off almost completely.
He turned his head and said something to her, but she was not sure what.
“Hungry?” he said again more loudly, slowing at a traffic light. Sharon shook her head. It felt as if she had eaten a huge meal, and she blushed, remembering just what it was that she had eaten. “I’m gonna stop for a drink,” he added-- not a question-- as the light changed and they pulled away. Sharon heard the big truck that had been beside them honk-- she had forgotten about the hoodie’s position and they were on well lit streets once again. She managed to tuck the hem into place again, watching the other drivers as Tweak went down the city’s main drag. At the major intersection southwest of the campus, he turned south, pulling in a few blocks farther on at a low, non-descript building. He joined the row of 4 other motorcycles, carefully backing into his narrow stall before dropping the stand and killing the engine.
Sharon remained perched on the small back seat as he extricated himself. His hand lingered on her bare knee.
“Hmmm, goose bumps,” he chuckled, “Should’ve gotten you some chaps.” Sharon just shrugged, struggling to get out of the helmet. Tweak helped her, and then she followed him into the dimly lit bar. A stage ran along the short side, with a pair of dance poles, and Sharon wondered if her night was not over after all. The conflicting heat between her legs and her cold win burned skin made her wonder if dancing might be just the thing to take care of all of her needs…
Tweak led her to the bar, spoke to the bartender, then led her to a small empty table in the middle of the room. A waitress brought them two mugs. A beer for Sharon and a darker liquid for him. Guiness, she guessed, glad for the drink, which she almost emptied before the waitress had moved away. Laughing, Tweak motioned for the waitress to brink another round.
“Add a chaser,” he said, smiling happily as the young brunette gave him a brief nod before heading for the bar. He toasted her, and drank from his mug as Sharon finished hers. A moment later, a shot glass of tequila and another beer sat in front of her. Tweak had finished his drink, and after winking at Sharon ordered a third round before they went to work on the new glasses the waitress had brought.
Several people came by to talk to them. Tweak introduced her to them as ‘his Bitch, Sharon,’ but she did not mind. Her legs were warming up, but the heat she had been feeling between her legs did not ease off. In fact, it had gotten strong enough she was openly eyeing the various men who were talking to Tweak… even Tweak was looking like a possible solution to her growing problem. Even so, the thought of someone else thrusting up into her pussy after the abuse she had taken that night made her shudder. She wondered what kind of slut she had become to even think about fucking again when an hour before she had been so sore she was not sure she could ever put out again.
At some point, Tweak had mentioned that ‘his bitch’ danced, and several of their guests began to suggest she should get up on stage. Someone laughed that they could see if the bartender would put on an ‘amateur night’ three days early. Sharon blushed, realizing she had almost told these strangers she was not an amateur. She buried her nose in her drink, seeing the waitress heading their way once again. Was it their fourth round? Fifth? As full as she had felt, there had been little in the way of nutrition, and the booze had already carried her past buzzed. She pressed a hand against her crotch, wondering how long it would be before she could get off.
“Do you want another root beer?” the waitress asked Tweak, setting the shot and beer mugs down in front of Sharon. The smarmy ZB facilitator shook his head, laughing at Sharon’s response to hearing he had not been drinking.
“Naw, thanks, Bree,” he knew the waitress’ name, Sharon noticed, “I’ve got to get my bitch back to her old man, but she needed some real action, so I couldn’t hang out as long tonight.” The waitress eyed Sharon for a moment, obviously skeptical about Tweak’s story. Sharon giggled, realizing the reprobate was using her as a foil to get into the pretty brunette’s pants. She nodded, hoping she did not sound too slurred.
“He’s right,” she ‘admitted’ to the younger woman, “I hate to admit it, but I can’t get enough of his big cock.” The woman flushed, but her eyes flickered to Tweak again as she beat a hasty retreat. Sharon laughed at the way the former college student was looking at her. She shrugged, “S’what I’m supposed to do, right?” she said, “BZ Bitches take care of our Brothers.” Tweak looked honestly touched. Sharon moved around closer to him, and when Bree set the next round down, she whispered to the younger woman, “He says he’s here all the time… He isn’t slutting around with anyone else is he? I want all of him to myself.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re just his,” the girl answered back petulantly. Sharon laughed.
“My husband can’t do half the things my Man can do to me… and he’s done after one or two times.” From the way the younger woman’s eyes blinked, Sharon guessed she had never considered having sex more than once or twice in a night. “He caught me, though,” she pouted, “I was hoping to get him ***** so he’d do me again before I go home.” Bree smiled sourly, the wattage increasing noticeably when she turned to Tweak. He smoothly handed her some cash, telling her to keep the change and nodding when she thanked him, adding that she would ‘see him later in the week.’ Sharon was eyeing the stage with envy, sure she could get off if they would let her do her favorite routine. Tweak said something and she nodded, watching as he stepped to the side of the room and made a call on his cell phone. When he had finished, he moved among some of the others, talking to the guys at their tables. He and another black man spoke for a bit longer before the other man nodded and stood. She watched both men head out the front door together. For a moment Sharon wondered if Tweak had left her there, but that did not make sense if he wanted to impress the perky young waitress.
A moment later the men returned. Tweak was carrying something. Smiling, he stopped beside Sharon at their table, holding out the folded black material. Sharon took it-- it was leather.
“Put these on… it’ll help you stay warm,,” he told her. Without arguing, Sharon carried the square folded material into the ladies room. She shook it out, finding chaps like Tweak had mentioned before. It took a few minutes to strap the garment into place and to get it cinched tight. Checking herself in the mirror, holding the hoodie hem up, Sharon giggled, admitting that it looked sexy. She almost wished she had taken the split crotch shorts off-- it would have looked better-- but just getting them on had taken long enough; she did not want to keep Tweak waiting, considering he had been so nice to her.
The ***** mother and wife climbed without hesitation onto Tweak’s bike, leaning against him and holding tight as he repeated the procedure to get going. She had not even tried to buckle the helmet into place, and just walking had been a chore. She didn’t stop to think about the way she tilted her pelvis, pressing her sex against the seat, loving the pleasurable buzz transmitted to her clit.
Tweak hopped onto the highway once again, and Sharon was amazed at how much warmer it was, wearing the chaps. She giggled, imagining she would have to get her own motorcycle, if riding always felt so good. She had expected almost a ninety minute ride to get back to the frat or her condo, and had mostly zoned out. It did not seem like nearly so much time had gone by when the bike slowed, but she giggled, telling herself it was just ‘time flying’ because she had been having fun. Eyes closed, she left her head turned to the side, resting against Tweak’s jacketed back as he maneuvered through town.
Only when he throttled back, leaving the bike in neutral to keep his rolling speed up, did Sharon look up. She gasped in shock, seeing they were not back approaching her apartment. Somehow Tweak knew where she lived… he was delivering her to her real home! She sat up, looking around frantically, but the houses lining the street were dark. And Tweak was intentionally keeping the bike quiet. Still she was grateful for the helmet. She shook him, leaning close to shout as loudly as she dared.
“I need to go to my apartment! I can’t go home like this!” The thought of Chris seeing her like she was dressed… of guessing what she had been doing, even if he thought it was just with Tweak. She was horrified that the thought of that seemed to amplify the insistent pleasure… and the itch for more, that the ride seemed to have triggered. Tweak just shook his head and pointed. Sharon was surprised to see her Range Rover parked in the drive. Turning toward the drive, she saw that he flashed his headlights, and watched as the driver’s door opened. She was puzzled but relieved when Kelly hurried down the drive to meet them.
“Here’s your partner,” Tweak told Kelly quietly over the idling motorcycle engine, “She had a little too much to drink, so you may have to help her out. He winked at Sharon, “Take good care of those chaps and I’ll be by to pick them up next semester… or you can bring them to me when the basketball team comes to play.” Sharon felt herself nodding, having managed to get the helmet off herself the second time. “Bring your friend… I’m sure we can make sure she has fun, too.” Sharon wanted to run to the shadows as the younger black man carefully affixed the helmet she had been wearing to a bracket on the side of the bike. She looked around, certain some neighbor would see them. Kelly smiled at her, playfully slapping her bare rear thigh. Sharon smiled, despite herself.
“Now you two get inside and enjoy your Thanksgiving break,” Tweak chuckled, “Go told me to remind you to practice. And Dave says not to miss them too much, ladies… You’ll be back to being BZ Bitches before you know it.” He revved the bike once, stepped it into gear, and with another brief throttle up built the momentum to carry him away from the house, opening the throttle only when he was almost a block away. The last he saw in his rearview mirror, the thoroughly used white housewife was still standing by her fellow dancer in completely inappropriate clothing, at any moment mere seconds from discovery by her ******…
Sharon’s new role as a Snake Eyes headliner and champagne room girl kept her more than busy. Her ‘get wet’ introduction Friday night, as the other dancers called it, was repeated Saturday night, except she danced twice the number of sets and had been grinding against strangers out on the floor for almost 6 hours before Raoul collected her as she was finishing getting a GI off in a back booth. The big bouncer calmly told her she had an ‘admirer’ who wanted to share a bottle of champagne with her.
The hapless white housewife did not understand at first, but Raoul was patient, leading her to the short hallway that opened into the champagne room. He stopped, still on the main floor, introducing her to ‘Clark,’ a light skinned black man who had had Sharon do 3 lap dances in a row earlier in the evening. Flattered but nervous, Sharon quickly realized her ‘date’ was obviously a frequent customer, based on the casual and knowing way in which he led her into the blue room and to an open ‘table.’ The cushion, which reminded her of the ottoman at the foot of Chris’ big chair in the den, was covered with faux polar bear fur. She giggled, seeing there indeed was a bottle of champagne on the small glass table between the 2 seats that completed the station. She answered Clark’s toast and emptied the plastic champagne flute. Soon enough she found herself on her knees, slurping at the stranger’s average cock. When he was hard and indicated he wanted more, she deftly slipped a condom onto him from the supply in the dispenser on the table where you would find sugar at a typical club or restaurant.
And then she was on her back, looking around absently at the other dancers who’d been tapped to ‘entertain’ that night, while Clark thrust into her eagerly. She made the right noises, lifting a leg as his tempo began to change, spurring him on with a low moan that did the trick… He was through in less than 5 minutes, and fell back, gasping that she was ‘amazing’ and refilling their glasses. Sharon was glad for the 2nd drink… she had not cum yet, and even though Go had gotten her off before her shift, the constant semi-arousal that pervaded the club had her hungry to cum again.
It had made it easy not to argue when Geoff signaled for her thirty minutes later… She had finished her last set on stage before Clark had fucked her, and was merely working the floor for the extra money. The guest the second time was older and heavier than Clark, and to her relief, he was bigger as well. She managed to get off as he lay back on a couch and had her ride him to his orgasm, all, while pouring bubbly down her bare chest and licking it off of her nipples.
Sweating but momentarily sated, she thanked the second ‘guest’ with a brief kiss on the lips, then tracked down one of the other girls to ask about a shower-- the sugary wine had left her a sticky mess. She was not actually surprised when she found the shower was not private…the entry door was not even in the girls’ changing room. Go had found a way to make money even on his girls cleaning up. When she entered the shower booth, a light went on over her head, and was obviously visible on the main floor, too, because it was not 30 seconds before she saw windows opening on 3 sides of the shower stall; Snake Eyes patrons were watching as she soaped up and rinsed. Without really thinking about it, she began to put on a show; if there was one instruction she had heard a hundred times, it was that she was to smile and ‘flaunt it’ when she was in the club. Two nights in, that reaction had already become second nature.
Of course, at least one of her unseen voyeurs was sufficiently stimulated she found herself back in the champagne room a third time, letting a Hispanic soldier use her doggy style. At his urging she had several glasses of the bubbly as he was using her, and giggled that it was a different feeling getting buzzed while being balled. She did not make it out of the champagne room when her ‘guest’ had finished before a tall, nervous young black man was ushered in and proceeded to quickly enjoy himself with her, too.
When he had finished and she had led him to the entrance to the champagne room, giving him the expected kiss on the lips as a final ‘thanks,’ she chose to stay in the blue lit room, lounging at the front with some of the other girls who’d been assigned to work on their backs, and were choosing to let the patrons who wanted it come to select them. Of course, she was still supposed to move and pose and offer the men who came in ‘to browse’ sufficient attention they would choose her. She knew she was not as good at that as the others-- experience was crucial to that skill set-- but as the ‘new’ girl she did not have to work very hard to get noticed. She had ‘entertained’ twice more before the bell rang through the club: 2AM, last call.
She had not expected that ‘last call,’ would mean a rush not for final drinks, but for a last turn with the girls putting out in the blue room. Already a little embarrassed that 6 strangers and Go had used her since she had arrived at the club, she found herself draped over one of the fur trimmed cushions as another stranger thrust into her from behind, while his buddy had her suck him off. She did not pause to consider that the guy using her mouth was not in a condom, and swallowed his load in a few minutes without real reluctance… Rubbers tasted bad, she remembered, giggling at the thought.
Driving home after her second night on duty at Snake Eyes, a fat roll of bills filling her clutch purse, Sharon had admitted she could understand why Go had no trouble getting dancers… they easily made more money than they could have earned doing anything else. She had been worried she had had too much to drink to be driving-- not an irrational concern-- but she was embarrassed at the thought of a cab picking her up at the club and was not about to ask anyone else to drive her home, so she climbed into the Range Rover and pulled out onto the early morning roads with over-exaggerated caution. She arrived safely, but had a wheel fully up the curb when she parked.
She shut the door to her place and leaned against it as the clock on the wall chimed once. She glanced over, seeing it was 3:30AM. Groaning at how tired she realized she felt, Sharon stumbled to the bathroom, then flopped onto her bed and was quickly asleep, giggling at the thought that she might never have to change the sheets if she kept falling asleep on the comforter…
The smell of coffee woke her shortly after noon on Sunday. She padded out of the bedroom, not caring how she looked, to find Dave pouring 2 mugs of coffee. She sat down at the kitchen table and was pleased when the ZB Brother served her a mug along with a little pitcher of cream. She put more than usual in, adding two packets of sugar before taking a sip. Satisfied that it wasn’t too hot, she quickly emptied the mug, then stood up to fix another. She giggled when Dave spanked her haunch as she went by.
“You make a Brother proud,” he told her, “Go said you dance like you were born to it and you turn twice as many drinks as the other girls.” Sharon beamed. She pointed to the schedule she had taped to the refrigerator.
“Are you going to come watch me dance?” she asked, hopefully, “That’s when I work… The nights it says ‘C’ I spend part of my shift in the champagne room.” Dave nodded thoughtfully. “If it’s a lower case ‘c’, like last night,” she went on, “Well, then I work the floor, and if someone wants to go back I go along.” Dave nodded again, as if he did not know Go’s routine.
“You ain’t working tonight, though?” Sharon shook her head, and found herself hoping he would take her back to the frat. “Well, if I didn’t have a project due I’d drive you back to get some new outfits for your job,” he smiled, “We could go back to the mall… past time you got touched up, ain’t it?” Sharon blushed… a few errant hairs had become obvious where she’d been worked on the 1st time he had taken her ‘home.’ She clenched her thighs together, remembering what else they’d done that day. “Guess we’ll have to do that sometime soon.” She just nodded. Dave sat looking at her, until she bit her lip uncertainly, feeling as if she was missing something.
“What?” she finally asked. Dave shook his head as if she should know.
“What’d you do last night?” he asked. She blushed.
“I danced.”
“You danced?”
“I… I stripped.” He waited, “And I did lap dances… and I… I entertained in the champagne room.” She couldn’t bring herself to say what ‘entertained’ meant. He rolled his eyes.
“Did they give you anything to bring home?” She frowned,
“No, they… oh,” she blushed more deeply, “Oh, oops, I forgot…” She ran into the bedroom, returning with the clutch purse. She pulled out the thick wad of rubber banded bills. “See? I couldn’t believe it… I thought it must be a mistake,” she said proudly, handing it to Dave. He stripped off the rubber bands and quickly counted through it, nodding.
“Not bad at all,” he said, stripping off 3 $20’s and as many $5’s, before reapplying the rubber band. He dropped the impressive roll into his shirt pocket, leaving the rest sitting on the kitchen table. Sharon blushed, looking at the money.
“Oh, no, that was the deal,” she started, “I mean…”
“Hell, it looks like you need some groceries,” Dave interrupted, “and like I said, you’ll want to get some things to use on stage,” he pulled a battered flyer out of his back pocket, “This Adam and Eve catalog? They’ve got some killer shit… and so does the Playboy Store… I tucked one of their catalogs inside.” He tossed them onto the table top, and Sharon picked them up, at once scandalized and aroused at the variety of toys and clothes and what not she saw on the pages. She didn’t notice the mailing address and name were her own. “I’d better get going,” he was delighted at the way she looked up when he said that-- she’d obviously expected to be having sex with him. “I think we’ve got just the sort of party you’ll enjoy,” he assured her, “It’s just a couple weeks away.” He motioned toward the fridge, “Better get yourself some groceries, though.” and then he had left, struggling not to laugh at the helplessly ensnared housewife’s response.
The only thing that would’ve been better would’ve been if she’d offered to give him the rest of the money to have him get her off… Dave wondered if he could arrange for just that sort of show as he headed for the other side of campus to pick Keiko up. The hot little Asian BZ Bitch was doing the same thing Sharon was doing, except at one of the juice bars closer to campus. Eyeing the roll of bills he’d taken from Sharon’s purse, he admitted ‘little Key’ wasn’t doing nearly as well as their prize filly, but that wasn’t a big surprise. Still, he’d have to do something about that…
Sharon managed to do her laundry and get groceries on Sunday. She called Kelly, but her friend didn’t answer. She considered going home, but the thought of having Chris wanting to have sex with her was enough to stay away… As horny as she’d been when Dave was in her little condo, when he’d gone she’d realized she was still a little stiff and sore after the prior nights’ activity. She hadn’t even been tempted to masturbate when Dave had left without doing anything to her. After a light lunch-- she had stocked the freezer with Healthy Choice frozen dinners, and the fridge with fruits, juices, and single serving champagne bottles, as well as more of the beer she’d seen Shaun and Dave drinking-- she grabbed a water bottle and a granola bar and hit the gym. It was flattering the way the guys eyed her as she did thirty minutes on the elliptical, and another thirty minutes on the treadmill. Mindful of the muscles she was using dancing, she spent most of another thirty minutes on the weight machines, too.
She was embarrassed to admit, on the walk home, she had sort of hoped someone might approach her while she was exercising, but she had not seen any of the frat members. By the time the sun was dipping below the horizon, she almost wished a chip holder would visit. She wasn’t sure what else to do. After paging through the flyers Dave had left, Sharon went online, ordering several items from both the Playboy and Adam and Eve sites; outfits she could use at work and some toys she hoped would convince Dave or Shaun to spend more time with her when they visited. After finishing a frozen dinner, Sharon paced about before remembering Dave warning her to get enough exercise. Maybe she needed to exercise more…
Hoping she might bump into a ZB, she made the trip across the campus again, repeating her time on the treadmill and elliptical, pushing herself until her top was sufficiently sweat soaked that it was obvious she had no sports bra-- or any bra-- underneath. Sharon basked at once more in the many looks she got from the male students using the gym, and ignored the more pointed glares of the other women.
When a woman barely older than her ******** said something under her breath as she walked past, Sharon just shrugged, almost laughing when the spectacles little prude sniffed and hurried away… If she was not such a sourpuss, Sharon knew the guys would have eyed the other young woman. She was not as busty, but she was graceful like a gymnast, and Sharon had seen some of the things a more petite woman could do to satisfy her man or men. The little dear was clearly uncomfortable with herself.
Sharon made the walk back across the quad without incident, and reluctantly turned in at 10PM. She slept soundly, even making the next morning’s classes, but of course, she had to be out at Snake Eyes before the lunch rush. She grabbed a granola and champagne lunch, then drove out to the club in time to practice a little… and to spend fifteen enjoyable minutes getting Go off, before she had to go to work.
She worked every day the first week, the lunch shift on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and the Tuesday night shift. Well, that’s when she was on the schedule, but she was at the club every night. There was always a lull between lunch and the after work crowd. Nobody said anything to her about going home, though, and whether it was blowing Go under his desk as he went about handling the business, practicing her dances and the music she would use, trying to fix the pathetic supply of ‘community costumes’ that filled the bin in the dressing room, or talking to the other girls, getting pointers and suggestions, Sharon most nights was surprised to realize that her shift was long past and she was still there, working the tables, shaking her ass, grinding against strangers, and downing the heavily watered drinks to pad the customers’ tabs, not to mention putting out for whoever… for whatever Go charged.
Of course, before every shift Go took a turn with her; he wasn’t selfish, and even if he came as she sat on her knees beneath his desk, he always made sure to ‘feed her the pipe’ as he called it. Without shame she mused it was the best part of her day, Thursday afternoon, as she slipped into the costume she’d chosen for her first turn on stage… She always got off repeatedly while he was using her.
By her second Friday as one of Go’s dancers, Sharon understood why the other girls seemed so quiet and pale… She could not seem to get enough sleep, even skipping her classes to allow longer naps, she was dragging. Dancing was a chore, even without prep and practice… The lap dances left her aroused but unfulfilled, and more often than not whoever was fucking her in the Champagne room was done before she was really excited, much less before she really got off. The weekend was a blur. She woke, showered, grabbed some clothes, and hurried to work, staggering in shortly before sunrise to sleep away the day before repeating the process.
Midway through her second full week as a dancer, Sharon was wondering how much longer she could keep doing it. The money was still impressive… She had given Shaun more than a thousand dollars Sunday morning, and he had told her how proud he was of her… but he had not stayed. The end of the week and the weekend were once again lost to any real memory. Staring at herself in the mirror Saturday afternoon she tried to remember anything about the night before… How many times had she danced? How many had she entertained in the champagne room? When had she gotten home? She wondered if her drinks had not been watered down. She was relieved that she was no more sore than usual… there was a constant ache she had just learned to ignore in all of muscles.
Worried she would not stay awake on the drive home after the club closed down Saturday night, Sharon slept in the Range Rover Saturday night, stealing a long nap in the dressing room after the relentless sun pouring through the windshield woke her up. She napped again, curled up on Go’s couch after he found her in the dressing room and led her by the hand to his office to ‘wear her out so she could sleep good and proper.’ When she woke, after sundown, still naked on the couch in Go’s office, she jumped up, worried for long moments she was late to her next shift. The music was working, and she had spent most of a minutes scrambling to gather her clothes before she realized she was off-- she could go home.
Of course, getting back to sleep, then, Sunday night was not easy. Although she knew she should feel rested, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling and skipped class before dragging herself out of bed to shower and get ready for her lunch shift Monday. She had not felt so jet lagged when the ****** had gone to Europe a few summers before.
Monday was so used to putting out for Go, she did not bother to knock, walking unannounced into his office at 1130. She stopped short, finding him banging Kelly, the younger woman splayed over his desk, mewling and panting happily as he pumped into her from behind. Sharon watched for several long seconds before realizing they could see her. She blushed, but Go just winked and told her he’d ‘try to save some to give her later.’ Embarrassed, Sharon scrambled out of his office and into the dressing room, intent on working her shift without letting on how jealous she felt at having seen Go fucking Kelly… She knew that was ridiculous, but she hadn’t had really good sex from anyone else in weeks. She had been looking forward to getting off, and knowing Kelly was cumming on the cock she wanted to get her off… Sharon giggled at that thought; it certainly wasn’t the first time that had happened. And Kelly was her friend; she told herself she should be happy the younger woman was getting off, too. BZ Bitches had to stick together.
Kelly wasn’t the only other BZ Bitch who joined Sharon at Snake Eyes during that third week; Diane was also there that night. Sharon had found herself wondering if the club owner was somehow fucking all of his girls. She was a little embarrassed at how good it felt when she learned Diane hadn’t gotten the same attention she and Kelly enjoyed. She was not about to suggest her Sister see what their boss had in the cock department, though. She and Kelly laughed over a pact to keep that not so little secret to themselves unless Go chose to ‘treat’ their fellow Bitch.
The younger women adapted to their new ‘job’ without any apparent trouble. Neither said anything about missing classes or missing out on ZB parties. Sharon wonderd if they were still going to parties, as well as working-- neither Diane nor Kelly worked as many shifts as Sharon did. They did not look as tired as she felt sauntering across the glossy stage, twirling around the brass pole, or shaking it in the back room. Sharon was not about to ask, though; she had decided she did not want to know what she had been missing.
They carpooled when schedules allowed, and some nights the women ‘slept over,’ after the club had closed, though usually all were too spent to do more than snuggle. Having her Sisters around made work more fun, and Sharon never complained about the hours she was working or the number of men she was servicing; Dave was quick to tell her she was ‘doing good’ when he stopped by to collect what she had earned. He had also left her more money… a few bills every time he stopped to get the rest, and Sharon had continued to shop, collecting enough costumes to fill a travel suitcase she kept in the Range Rover when she was not working. It felt good, having so many men watching her… wanting her. And she was proud how well she could get them off, giving them pleasure. Go was quick to tell her, whenever they were alone, that she was his best girl. Sharon just blushed, pressing herself against him and mumbling she was happy he was happy. A few moments later he was thrusting into her steadily and she was cumming, reveling in the pleasure she was only finding by going to work…
Even so, Sharon was truly dragging by the end of her first month working at Go’s. She had long since stopped trying to count the number of men who had used her; she had stopped being flattered by the men who had enjoyed her enough to come back for more. She found herself remembering what Cherry had said, even contemplating inquiring what the younger but more experienced stripper knew about that could help her get her zip back before a shift. She was spared finding out when Go called she and Kelly in after they had both finished their last turns on stage the next Saturday night.
“Well, Shar’,” he cupped her ass and tweaked her unpiereced nipple before offering similarly familiar ‘greetings’ to Kelly, “You’ve been at it a month… Doing real good, girl… Making good money… Building me return customers… Showin’ your Sisters the ropes… I’m proud of ya.” Sharon smiled and nodded, trying not to let on how much she wanted Go to fuck her right then and there… It did not matter that Kelly was there; her friend had seen Sharon have sex before. Glancing at the way Kelly was shifting, pressing her thighs tight, Sharon almost giggled, sure that her friend was thinking the same thing… confident they were both literally dripping wet.
“And you, my little one,” Go smiled at Kelly, “You’re almost neck and neck with our prize housewife.” He leered at both women, then lowered his zipper, “Think you can take care of this together?” Sharon nearly jumped she was so eager to comply. Even so, Kelly was on her knees at the same time. The women slurped up and down Go’s rising shaft, alternately taking the blunt cockhead into their mouths. Go watched the unspoken competition with obvious enjoyment. Sharon was the first to bob her head into his groin, taking him into her throat. She held him there, sucking hungrily as Kelly practically whined in protest, awaiting her turn. When Sharon came up for air, Kelly dove onto him, bobbing up and down fervently.
They alternated for a couple minutes, working his crank until Go winced, concerned he might actually sustain damage. He settled a hand on each woman’s head, regaining some measure of control. The women backed off, licking and kissing at his shaft… and increasingly each other. Both women were steadily fingering themselves. Smiling down at the little show, Go bent over the women, catching the hand each woman was using to work her own slit.
Sharon was so intent on getting Go off she wasn’t initially aware of what was happening when Go pulled her hand away. Was he telling her he wanted them to… Her fingers returned to her slit and she began to work it as feverishly as before… up and down, around her clit, dipping inside… As she returned to working the inner labia, though, the pressure on her own sex built, shifting up to focus on her clit. She groaned as she realized what Go had done. She was fingering Kelly, and Kelly was…
Sharon moaned around Go’s cock as Kelly’s fingers brought her off. A moment later, the younger woman writhed against Sharon as she, too, got off. They kept at Go’s cock, though, and in short order he was ready to blow. He’d been practicing something with Kelly for just what he had planned, and turning her hips, he pushed his cockhead into the younger woman’s mouth. He groaned as he began to cum, ignoring the whine of protest that escaped Sharon’s throat. Kelly looked up at him, still bobbing her head slightly as she took his cum. When he was spent, he pulled away, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he watched Kelly. The pretty coed dutifully tilted her head back and opened her mouth, showing off his load.
“Damn you two are a good team,” he praised them, “I think you’d better share that with Sharon, Kel’, she’s been patient.” Kelly closed her mouth as she turned to the aroused housewife. Sharon ducked low as Kelly leaned toward her. “Let me see it,” Go warned. Kelly paused, then moving over Sharon’s open mouth, she parted her lips, letting Go’s jism drool into Sharon’s open, wanting mouth. Go smiled, hoping the cameras caught it. As the heavy string of pearlescent fluid broke, Kelly brought her mouth down, kissing the older woman. Sharon returned the kiss passionately, and as they continued sharing his cum, their fingers began to roam over one another’s firm body.
Go watched as the women moved closer, hands roaming over breasts, between legs, fondling, pinching, caressing. Their moans grew as the women got more into what they were doing to each other than what they’d been sharing. It wasn’t a minute before they’d managed to shed their clothes. Bodies undulated as roving fingers and a passionate French kiss became an intimate 69. Sharon moved atop the smaller coed, each woman moaning into the other’s twitching sex. After a couple minutes, Kelly gasped, bucking up against her friend and lover, spilling both women onto their sides. They came together, after a few minutes more, bodies twitching visibly, and still didn’t stop until each had enjoyed another more gentle climax some minutes later.
Flushed with arousal, panting from their exertions, the women sat up, both having obviously forgotten about their audience. The vestiges of his own eruption shone on their skin, as Kelly and Sharon looked from one another to him and back. He shook his head, chuckling, then offered each a hand, pleased at the total lack of inhibition both showed.
“Damn you put on a great show,” he paused as if thinking of something for the first time, “In fact, I think you’re going to be just the thing.” The women frowned prettily, puzzled. He waved his hands dismissively. “Oh, I should explain… TandA have been invited to tour the circuit… They’ll be gone for 3 months starting after Thanksgiving. I’d been wondering how I’d replace them… it’s the club’s biggest draw… though admittedly you’ve given them a run for their money,” he winked at Sharon. “How would you two like to be our new girl girl act?” He was certain, having watched them, of their answer, or it wouldn’t have been a question. They really had no say in anything, but one of the tricks was never to let them think about that. “You get to practice without having to work the early shift… You won’t be in the champagne room as often, and only work the floor after every other time on stage. In fact,” he paused, “I’ll have them work with you before we open a couple days a week. and I’ll give you both off the week of Thanksgiving… Then you can come back and wow us all the weekend after Turkey Day.” Sharon and Kelly were nodding. Laughing, they hugged each other before bothering to begin to sort out the clothes they’d strewn about the floor. Go cleared his throat.
“There’s just one other thing.” They stopped, both obviously ready for something they would not like. He was certain they would be happily surprised by his next words. He stood up from where he’d flopped into his seat to watch their impromptu performance, “The little show you just put on has me a little frustrated…” The women smiled, dropping the clothing they had picked up. “Why don’t you both bend over my desk here and we’ll see which of you can hold out the longest.” It was gratifying the way they jumped to obey… like they wanted to have him inside of him. Smiling, he caught hold of Sharon’s waist and slipped into her depths, delighting in the keening moan that escaped the married woman’s lips. He pushed in and out slowly, teasing her, then backed out entirely after the fifth thrust to offer Kelly the same introductory fuck. The women shimmied and moaned, pushing back at him.
As Go alternated, working between both undeniably hot women, he wondered at how easy it was… He had never had to work to get a woman, and had never found himself lacking female company. Some days he marveled there wasn’t a gentlemen’s club on every corner, the money was so certain and the ‘work’ so easy. He had to admit, though, as he pushed himself back into Sharon, that this one… this married white coed, was uncommonly good. Smiling, he was glad she had been as easy to hook up as Dave had assured him she would be… He did not know how long Shaun and Dave would loan their new Bitches out, but it was proving a win-win situation, both monetarily and… He spanked Sharon’s bare ass, and the aroused white wife moaned and shivered, obviously near an orgasm. Go mused that he was going to enjoy them thoroughly while he could… He could worry about just how much money they had brought in later.
Beneath him, Sharon twitched, struggling not to be the first to cum… She was guessing whoever lasted longer would get to finish Go off, and she wanted to be the one, but when he had spanked her, she had very nearly climaxed. She bit back the groan of disappointment when Go backed out, feeling the way Kelly’s arm muscles tightened as their employer began to fuck her young friend once again. She tried to calm her breathing, told herself to think about laundry and her kids’ homework-- anything not to be so excited. Then Go was thrusting into her again. She moaned, twitching visibly, still fighting the approaching orgasm. God, it felt so good, but she wanted more… Sharon dug her fingernails into her palm, desperate for a few seconds distraction. Then he had backed out, and she felt Kelly stiffen as he impaled her. The younger woman’s body rocked and Sharon counted… Three, four, fix, six… She frowned when the count reached twelve, and belatedly realized Kelly was shaking in an obvious orgasm. She smiled broadly, then paused, wondering if Go meant to finish off in her friend. She needn’t have worried; the big club owner slowed as Kelly’s climax ebbed. Chuckling, he pulled out.
“Guess you get the prize tonight, Shar,” Sharon nodded, moaning loudly as Go’s big hands caught her by the waist and he began to thrust into her again more forcefully than before. She did not trust her voice enough to answer, she was already so close to her own orgasm. Pressing her thighs against the drawers of the desk front, she levered back eagerly, welcoming the big man’s thrusts He leaned back, careful that the room’s many cameras would have a clear view as he paused, taking his hands off of her waist, letting the hot housewife impale herself on his jutting cock. When she whined in protest, he smiled, spanking her naked ass lightly before catching her cheeks in his hands, pulling them apart and firmly groping both. The movement pulled Sharon’s sex tighter around his pumping shaft, increasing the friction on her aroused clit. Sharon’s breath caught. Her back arched, hands scrabbling to catch hold of the far edge of the desk as she began to cum. She pushed back at him, a low, breathless moan escaping her throat.
“Ahhh,” Go cut lose on the next thrust, having been more than ready since shortly after he’d started giving it to both women. Still erupting, he backed out, painting Sharon’s ass before turning toward Kelly, who had recovered enough to watch her friend with obvious jealousy. Without being told, she leaned over catching the last of his spend in her mouth. Go patted her head as if she was an obedient dog. “That’s my girl,” he praised them both, then gestured at the glimmering fluid on Sharon’s shivering ass, “Maybe you’d better help Mrs. Sharon get cleaned up before you go on duty.” Kelly did not hesitate, and before he shooed the women out they had treated him to a second heated oral lez fest. Checking the clock, the club owner wondered just how long they could continue, and reluctantly reminded his girls they still had a job to do.
When they had dutifully left to clean up before making him money with their fine asses, Go unlocked the computer and eyed the projected figures… Even ignoring the money he was getting for sharing TandA with other club owners, the numbers his new act would bring in were going to make it the best year he had ever had, and in a down economy. Lighting a fat Cuban cigar, Go remembered what the club owner who had shown him the ropes had insisted: liquor stores and strip clubs were recession proof.
The night was another blur for Sharon. Still buzzed by the endorphin release of her orgasms, the first two sessions on the stage were over before she knew it. Smiling, she circulated, asking for drinks, offering lap dances, and entertaining twice in the blue room before her third set came up. The DJ had spanked her, asking if she needed a pick me up when he found her leaning against the booth. Sharon had smiled-- always smile-- and had thanked him for the offer, but before she had to turn him down a patron-- one of her regulars-- came along, leading her back so he could get off. She knew Chet had already had her… all of the employees, including most of the dancers, had taken a turn with her the night she’d ‘gotten wet.’ She giggled as the guy who’d been there her last three nights began what had become ‘their routine,’ having her suck at him until he was fully hard. Diane and Kelly had not gotten the full ‘wet night’ treatment’ at least not when she had been there, but having the other new girls who had come to dance get her off was actually better than a lot of the sex she was having in the club.
The memory of having Go enjoy she and Kelly… and what she and Kelly had done afterwards, had Sharon just aroused enough that she managed a small orgasm with her client, a reaction he recognized and was clearly excited about. Assuring her he would be back again soon, he thanked her, hastily zipping up after she had expertly stripped off his condom. Sharon paused in the Champagne room, enjoying the almost palpable excitement under the blue lights, and emptying a water bottle one of the clean up crew brought for her. Her exit to the main room was delayed when her ‘Prince Charming’ pointed her out to her buddy. Before Sharon really knew it, the buddy had her against the cool black wall at the back of the Champagne room, doing a credible job of fucking her standing up. Sharon wrapped her legs around his waist, spurring him on with her heels and soft moans, taking satisfaction in how quickly she managed to finish him off so that she could get back for her next set.
There were enough girls on duty it was a 5 set night. Sharon was smiling but she was no longer really processing what was happening by the end of her last dance. She swayed sexily on the pole, vaguely aware Kelly had been working the opposite stage. When she started to head toward the curtain, though, she saw Chet motioning for her to stay put. Puzzled, she automatically began to collect the bills still littering the stage around her. Go came out, catching the wireless microphone that Chet tossed him.
“Isn’t this pretty lady something, guys?” his voice rumbled as he draped an arm around Sharon’s still naked shoulders. She bit her lip, embarrassed at how her body responded to his proximity, and wondering if the men staring up at them knew it. “She and Kelly have sure been shaking their asses for you tonight… Give them another round of applause!” There were shouts and cheers, and a few more bills were thrown up onto the stage. “In fact,” Go went on, “I wanted you-- our favorite patrons,” he paused as the dancers all over the room reacted with almost reflexive winks and ‘come hither’ smiles at those men nearby, “To be the first to hear about what we’re going to give you all for Christmas.” ‘Free dances!’ someone shouted and the rest laughed, before quieting. Go smiled at the joke, “Well, you know we have our high roller club… If you’re here more than a couple nights a week I’d suggest you look into it. Ain’t nothing free in this world, but you can find we treat the best of our favorite patrons to some truly special perks. There were murmurs as the patrons considered that.
“No, tonight you may have noticed TandA aren’t performing.” Heads nodded, “They were away at a stripping competition… I shit you not,” he said over the laughter, “There is such a thing, and frankly they blew the competition away. I’m proud our girls have walked off with the best of trophy again this year, but it means they’re going to be performing nationwide for several months. Don’t worry,” Go waved his free hand, then pulled Kelly, who’d been instructed to join the others on the main stage, close like he was hugging the topless white housewife, “They’ll be back, But. These two, our hottest new dancers, are going to be the new duo so hot they get you off while you’re sitting watching them.” He winked at the assembled crowd, “Trust me, gents, I’ve seen ‘em do it.” Sharon smiled nervously at Kelly as the men around them cheered. “Of course, they’re going to have to learn the ropes, so not only are we losing TandA, we’re going to see less of them for the next couple weeks.” There were boos, but Go waved them away with his fingertips.
“C’mon, gents, they’ll still be here for your pleasure. But when they’re back and on stage together it’ll blow your mind. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the night’s entertainment,” he began the wrap up, “But I wanted you to know so you can more appropriately show your appreciation to these lovely girls tonight, since it may be awhile before their schedules are free.” Sharon was looking forward to the promised break and did not consider what Go was telling the night’s crowd. “And of course, as usual, we’ll be having a contest to see what their name should be. Start thinking, we’ll accept submissions at the box office, the sound booth, and the bar. Think about it, guys. The usual rules apply: no more than three submissions a person. We’ll tell you who won and what our girls are going to be called as an early Christmas gift when they’re back the weekend after Thanksgiving.” His hands slipped down and he swatted both women on the ass, to the crowd’s amusement, before all three went through the heavy curtain, Phoebe strutting past them, as if determined to make the crowd forget about Sharon and Kelly.
When she had had time to rest, Sharon would admit she should have expected the reaction Go’s announcement triggered. She smiled at Kelly, who seemed nearly asleep on her feet, as the women took seats before the vanities where they prepared for any performance or a round on the floor. Sharon pointed to the clock,
“At least it’s just an hour to last call.” Kelly looked at Sharon in obvious puzzlement, shaking her head almost sadly. Sharon never got to ask what the younger woman meant; neither she nor Kelly even made it to the floor before they were in demand. Geoff stepped through the door from the hall, motioning for both women to join him. Sharon tucked herself into a bra and matching G string, touched up her make up, and followed the smaller, younger woman straight across the back of the main room to the Champagne room. There was a line of men, all of whom brightened, some clapping upon the women’s entry.
While there were always three or four dancers in the plush chairs at the front of the room, posing and batting artificial lashes in an attempt to get some action, the men almost universally were intent on taking a turn with the soon to be limited performers.
Sharon barely had time to down flutes of the champagne between ‘entertaining.’ It was weak comfort that Kelly was kept as busy. The women were not even given time to escort their suitors back; other dancers did that, one bringing the new meat up for his turn while another fawned over the sated customer.
Sharon managed to keep smiling, making the right noises, urging the men on, including a repeat visit from her ‘regular’ and his buddy, who insisted on ‘sharing her.’ She soon regretted her performance in getting them off, as the next 6 guys elected to ‘pair up’ and use her similarly. She never heard ‘Last Call’ announced, and was too busy trying to convince each successive man she was hot to trot and desperate for his cock to realize that she and Kelly were still putting out two hours after Last Call had been announced…. More than an hour after the other women had run out of interested suitors. The clean up crew had reported as usual, to be treated to a more arousing show than was usually the case, and earning the women each a final pair of ‘admirers’ to be serviced before they were left barely conscious on the plush memory foam beanbags that dotted the room.
Only when the young Hispanic who had been panting while fucking into her almost an hour before politely cleared his throat did Sharon struggled upright. She went over to collect her as exhausted BZ Sister, the pair staggering back to the dressing room. Go happened in as they cleaned up.
“God, you should have charged them double,” Sharon pouted, wondering if she would ever be the same again. The big club owner snorted.
“Darlin’, I DID charge them double. But they know you won’t be nearly as available as my top act, so they wanted a last hurrah tonight. You did good. Nap here if you need to, but get home safe. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. TandA will be back this Wednesday, so I’ll expect to see both of you hear before the lunch rush to practice with them.” Like Kelly, Sharon managed a nod, her head still reeling at the idea the endless line of horny men had paid double whatever Go was usually charging to fuck her. How man? She shivered, certain she did not want to know.
On the way home, Kelly was too tired to carry a conversation about what lay in store for them. Sharon listened to her voicemails. Chris had called wondering what day before Thanksgiving she would be home, since it was almost time for the pre break tests. Dave had called reminding her that she did not need to worry about how she did on the tests , BUT warning that she did have to show up for the exams. Groaning, Sharon looked at the blurred numbers on the dashboard clock: 5:42. In less than three hours she had to be at her first final. She nearly panicked, unable to remember for a moment which class was first. Even reminding herself the tests did not matter only eased her anxiety a little; she kept expecting a call that she was failing the courses she had barely attended for the semester. College seemed, simply, too easy. She laughed at that, wondering if she had ever been as tired or had worked as hard as she had in the last eight plus hours. Considering the big parties, she guessed she had maybe had more sex, but she’d enjoyed that sex. It had not seemed like work. This, though… She ran a hand through Kelly’s hair, relieved that they were going to be able to dance together and escape the exhausting work they had been doing at the club.
There was a brief message from Shaun, asking after her, and pointing out he had not been able to see her for weeks since she was working instead of partying. Sharon felt a pang of loss, even as she was relieved that Shaun had missed her. It never occurred to her he could have visited her anytime at her home or the club. That was probably, though, because he had gone on, assuring her there was a party that would be ‘safe’ the coming Friday and he was looking forward to seeing her again before she went home for the holiday.
Sharon was too worried she would not wake up to even try to sleep, a concern Kelly’s near comatose state supported. The women got to their classes, though; Sharon even took a stab at the tests. Fortunately the tests were all in morning classes, so their sessions with Tawny and Adele caused no problems.
Sharon quickly came to enjoy the time she and Kelly spent with the TandA performers. Adele was characteristically dour, acting as if the other women were somehow out to steal her thunder. But she helped out, offering sharp criticisms, followed by reluctant pointers, and by week’s end, grudging praise. Tawny was helpful and supportive if reserved. Kelly and Sharon were both quick to assure the others they were not interested in pushing them out of Snake Eyes; both expected to go home for summer break, when the TandA tour would be finished, so there would be no competition for who was the headliner at Snake Eyes.
Sharon went so far as to remind the more experienced women the last thing she wanted was any attention outside the club; ‘making it’ on the circuit would destroy her marriage. Not for the first time Tawny asked how it was she was stripping and ‘entertaining’ at the club if her husband would not approve. Sharon deftly shrugged, assuring the younger but more world-wise woman she was not sure just how it had happened, only that if she tried to stop doing things that put her marriage at risk, her marriage would be destroyed. Adele snorted it sounded like it was bound to happen at some point, a thought that had brought Sharon awake in a cold sweat more than one night, but after months living the string of lies, she just shrugged, insisting that they were taking steps to protect her, and wouldn’t have any reason to hurt her marriage, so long as she was giving them what they want. The others could not argue with that, and soon enough the ‘how’ of Sharon’s presence as a feature dancer at Snake Eyes had given way to the ‘how’ Sharon and Kelly could wow the crowd working together.
The first time their simulated sex turned into a heated sixty-nine, Adele called a halt, asking pointedly if Sharon thought eating Kelly out on stage was going to be ‘acceptable.’ The new team were puzzled-- they had seen both women screaming and writhing under the skilled touch of the other on stage. Hugging their pupils to dispel the tension Adele had caused, Tawny explained that simulating lesbian sex was the key to success; the women had to be able to keep dancing and moving throughout the show. If either or both really got off, they would quickly not be dancing.
She also mused she had not expected the women to be ‘into’ each other, especially considering that Sharon was actually married. Smiling, Sharon had admitted she had not expected she would actually enjoy having sex with another woman, before adding that Kelly was better with her mouth than Chris was. It did not occur to her that no long before she had consciously avoided making such comparisons.
Between practice working the pole in tandem and realistically performing cunnilingus on stage, the experienced team described some of the variations they could work on, from ‘playing ping pong,’ to using the shower, to ‘toasting’ the groom to be at bachelor parties.
Adele also insisted they get used to ‘dealing’ with the occasional ‘slip of the tongue.’ The first time she did it, Sharon was shocked at the unexpected penetration of the angry woman’s tongue into her sex. Admittedly, the sexiness of what they were doing and were talking about had all of the women more than a little aroused. Sharon arched her back and gasped, then buried her face in Adele’s sex, as she moaned, “Yesss!” The response triggered a similar release in the rigidly controlled bleached blonde, not in small part the idea that a married older woman was willingly eating her out. Instead of calling a stop to it, she lapped at Sharon’s flowing sex, the stud in her tongue proving to be a new experience for Sharon, who came strongly and repeatedly, all while trying to return the attention without letting on she was really going at it.
Watching the real and spontaneous heat the others were going at it before Adele came on Sharon’s tongue, and only after everyone had orgasmed did Adele call a halt. Panting, voice husky with her own arousal, she pointed out she had been ‘testing’ Sharon, adding that at least the mother and wife had made an effort to keep at it instead of simply lying spent after her climax. When Kelly pointed out that the ‘real thing’ had been so erotic she and Tawny had not been able to stop themselves, Adele reluctantly admitted that sometimes really doing it could be a great show.
Tawny warned them, though that it was also strictly illegal; outside of Snake Eyes, it could land them in jail, a place Sharon for obvious reasons would want to avoid. Smiling at Adele, she went on that the down side of cumming once on stage was it was never enough. When Adele nodded at her partner’s unspoken request, Tawny caught Sharon’s hand, adding that she wanted to see just what it was Sharon had done to get Adele off so strongly. Kelly giggled as she moved to ‘practice’ with Adele while Sharon and Tawny enjoyed a prolonged sixty nine on the dimly lit stage. Again, the use of a tongue stud was quick to trigger Sharon’s release, and she found herself asking about the jewelry.
Panting from her own series of climaxes, Tawny stretched, shaking her long bleach blonde hair out as she assured Sharon she ‘did just fine’ without it. Adele snorted, telling the other women Tawny was just scared to imagine how good Sharon would be if she had a tongue stud in place. Tawny elbowed her partner.
“So you’re saying a tongue stud and you’ll leave me for her?” Tawny asked archly. They giggled at Sharon’s obvious distress.
“Relax, Shar,” Tawny laughed, “Adele knows there are precious few women who can deal with her day in and day out.”
“And there aren’t many women confident enough to share their lover with all comers, men and women alike,” Adele countered.
“Ditto,” Tawny sniffed. Before it could escalate, the women kissed, promptly moving into yet another heated exchange, that while similar to what they had been showing Kelly and Sharon, was immediately obviously heartfelt vs. the ‘show’ they had been championing.
Most of the Friday ‘class’ was spent in variations of lesbian sex. When she worried that they weren’t ready, Tawny laughed, assuring Sharon the new pair was more than ready, as sex and responsive as both were. Sharon did not admit that part of her arousal had been the unrealized hope that Go would be there to enjoy her or she and Kelly both. But the club owner had been plainly absent, each day she and Kelly had been at the club. In fact, while she was still a little tired, four nights without sex had the married white housewife almost constantly aroused, hungry for cock. And the passion she had shared with the other women that afternoon did nothing to ease that need.
If Shaun had not called to remind her to ‘be ready’ for a great time Saturday, she would have been calling Dave to ‘entertain’ chip holders or have asked about working a shift at the club. While the Friday ‘class’ had taken the edge off, she wondered if she would be able to sleep, knowing Shaun would be there to pick her up at seven the next morning.
As such, she begged off the other women’s offer to go clubbing that night. Kelly’s delight at being included as a ‘third wheel’ almost made Sharon reconsider, but she was determined to go home to rest. Two of the single servings of Champagne and a healthy bowl of the dwindling weed on her mantle, and Sharon managed to drift off, smiling at dreams of Shaun taking her on the stage at Snake Eyes while Tawny, Adele, and the rest of the girls cheered them on…
Sharon stretched, smiling as she looked up at Shaun. The broad shouldered frat brother was still shaking her shoulder gently. He matched her smile.
“Ready for the day’s adventure, my little BZ Bitch?” he said. Sharon nodded, sitting up, hoping he would notice the arousal of her nipples and choose to start the day off right. He tweaked the pierced side, “Get a shower, then come get some breakfast.” She nodded, hurrying in the shower, wondering if he might actually be fixing something for her to eat. When she came out, wearing a clean white ‘BZ Bitch’ tank top and hot pink short shorts, she found Shaun finishing a plate of eggs and toast. He had set a champagne bottle and granola bar at her place. She started to sit to eat, but he scooped them up with one big hand, swatting her ass with the other. “C’mon, girl, we don’t want to be late.” He laughed at her surprise. Sharon caught the table edge to keep from falling as she reversed direction to stand up again. She slipped a pair of 3” heels on and followed the big ZB Frat member out to his Escalade.
It was just as amusing to Shaun watching Sharon squirm in the passenger seat as they pulled away from her place. When she asked where they were going so early he just laughed, telling her that would ruin the surprise. After pretending to ignore her obvious arousal for a few minutes, he asked if she needed anything. She blushed, biting her lip before shrugging and telling him she had hoped they would have some time to ‘do it’ before leaving for the day’s adventure. He looked at her in feigned ignorance.
“Do it?” she blushed more visibly, nodding.
“I was hoping you would fuck me,” she finally admitted. Shaun nodded.
“Oh, you need a cock?” She nodded, pressing a hand between her legs. He chuckled, “Oh, my little Bitch, never fear, you’ll get some cock today.” Sharon shivered visibly at that. Shaun felt himself getting hard at how completely they had managed to make the white housewife their slut. “But I tell you what,” he smiled, “If you need to get an early start…” Before he had finished, Sharon was slipping out of the seatbelt to lean down, slurping him into her mouth. Damn, but she could suck cock. It was not a long trip to their destination, but even so it was a struggle to hold off until they were pulling into the parking lot.
“Here it comes, baby,” he warned her, pleased at the way the once shy white housewife gobbled at him more eagerly. “Ahhhh,” he erupted, lifting his hips as he got off. Sharon took it all, and went on bobbing her head until he was completely soft… or as soft as he could get with that attention. “We’re here, little bitch,” he reminded her, watching expectantly as she sat up and looked around while wiping her mouth.
“Is this…”
“The airport. Yep,” he zipped up, then climbed out of the big SUV, “C’mon, we don’t want to be late for the flight.” Sharon scrambled out as Shaun retrieved the duffle that had been stored in the closed bed, slinging it as he headed into the terminal.
“OK, but what… I mean, where…” Sharon had to jog to keep up with Shaun’s longer strides. She was more than surprised and impressed when the frat member was able to simply wave at the terminal staff, walking straight through the long single story building and out onto the tarmac. “Uhm, isn’t there a metal detector… or security…” Shaun laughed.
“Little Bitch, this is a charter flight. We own this plane, so we can carry whatever we want aboard,” he looked back, “You don’t know where we’re headed?” Nervous, Sharon shook her head. Shaun was pleased she was apparently willing to go wherever he led. Given what Dave wanted to do in the next few months, it would come in handy. “You got a passport?” Sharon looked at him in surprise.
“Uhm, I do, but not with me. I mean, I didn’t think…” Shaun laughed.
“I’m just teasing ya, we’re staying in the US today.” Sharon just nodded as he guided her to the stairway of the big Boeing 737. “Go on up, say hello to your fans.” Nervously Sharon climbed the stairs, pleased when Shaun’s hand cupped her ass halfway up the mobile stairway. “Hurry up, little Bitch, we don’t want to delay the departure.” Sharon responded, hurrying the rest of the way, almost leaping into the front of the plane. The flight attendant and the pilot or co-pilot were startled, the former frowning at Sharon and her attire, the latter smiling broadly. Sharon chose to ignore the woman’s pinched expression, smiling at the man in the starched uniform, and taking the hand he offered to help her steady herself.
“The party supplies have arrived!” Shaun said, loudly enough for all in the narrow fuselage to hear. Sharon turned her attention away from the pilot to the people already seated in the plane. Three by three seating was separated by a single narrow center aisle. In each row two of the schools football players were stretched out, sharing three seats. Sharon’s heart rate picked up seeing all the big strapping players eyeing her, many smiling knowingly. She saw several of the BZ, and smiled, guessing what Shaun had planned. Casting a dismissive glance at the prudish flight attendant, she sauntered down the aisle, swinging her hips as much as space allowed. The first player to risk groping her got a pause and giggle for his effort. After that, at least one hand was on her bottom every step she took until Shaun cleared his throat. Looking back, she saw him gesturing for her to take the empty row just behind the second partition in the big aircraft. Leaning the big duffel against the divider, Shaun sat down beside Sharon, making sure they were both buckled in.
“So I’m the… in flight entertainment?” she asked him quietly. He smiled.
“Well, not exactly, though it’s a great idea,” he allowed, “We’d have every flight sold out.” He patted her bare knee. “No, girl. The team plays this afternoon, so coaches would be pissed if we distracted any of the team from where their focus should be. This is the rivalry game,” he went on, “In state, but we’re playing it at the big pro stadium just across the state lines… It was just renovated and it means live nationwide coverage and a bigger payday, even though it’s a home game we won’t play at home.” Sharon nodded; she really did not follow football, but had kept track of the school’s team, mostly because several of the frat members were on the team. “I bet you’ll have lots of people interested in some ‘in flight entertainment’ on the way back, but we’re along as… cheerleaders, I guess you’d say.” He pointed at the bag, “There’s some things you’ll be able to use in there, but we’ll save that for later. For now just sit back and enjoy the flight.”
They had the back of the plane mostly to themselves. The starters were at the front, talking strategy and watching tape on the aircraft’s video system with the coaches. The rest of the team and most of the support staff were spread out in the second section. Sharon tried to relax and be patient, but the memory of having Shaun in her mouth, and his proximity, not to mention the prospect of 60 horny football players celebrating a win had her more than a little aroused. She was also nervous, having expected at least a couple of her ‘Sisters’ to be along for the celebration. It was a little amazing to her the coaches would let her ‘celebrate’ with the team, but she had long since stopped wondering at how totally the BZ Fraternity controlled what happened at the school.
Flying had always made her nervous, and as the big jet lumbered down the runway maybe thirty minutes later, she put her hand on Shaun’s gripping him tightly until after they had lifted off and the noises of wheels and flaps closing had faded.
“It’s not a long flight,” he warned her, “Otherwise we would’ve gone last night.” Sharon just nodded, trying not to think about what could have been if she and Shaun had been away someplace overnight. She pressed her thighs together, struggling to stop thinking about the virile young man whose hand she still held. “This is better than using busses… That’s how the other team will get there. We’ll have to bus from the downtown airport, but it’s not a very long trip. It’s the late afternoon game, so we probably won’t get back until well after midnight.” Sharon just nodded. How could he be so calm, she wondered, then decided to tease him a little. She lifted the bottom of her shirt, baring her midriff, before leaning over.
“Shaun?” she murmured, quietly enough he had to tilt his head down toward her.
“Yeah, babe?” She bit her lip, then took the plunge.
“I’m not sure I can wait until after the game.” He smiled knowingly as he looked at her.
“Too long to go without cock?” he taunted her. She flushed, but nodded. “Hmmm,” he scratched his head, eyeing the aroused wife, “Well, have you ever done it in a plane?” Sharon could not believe he was asking the question. Then she realized he was teasing. “You’d never considered joining the mile high club?” She had heard of it, of course, but when would she have been able to do that, having only ever taken commercial flights. The idea, though, of illicit sex in the tiny bathroom of the plane was a definite turn on. And the possibility she might be able to talk Shaun into fucking her… Sharon shivered, dropping a hand into his crotch.
“Have you?” she purred. Shaun lifted a hand to tweak her erect unpierced nipple.
“When would I have done that?” he asked, to avoid answering the question.
“I just figured you always provide ‘entertainment’ on these flights.” He laughed.
“Oh, no, you are special, my little BZ Bitch. We’re looking for new ways to let you enjoy the perks of being our little sister, since you have to be careful about your hubby.” Sharon nodded, pleased they were looking out for her. He slipped a hand inside the waistband of her shorts-- she had not worn panties. His finger easily curled up into her sex, pressing against her clit. She moaned quietly, her seam flowing already. Releasing the seatbelt with his other hand, Shaun stood, guiding the ready blonde by her aroused sex down the aisle to the back of the plane. Instead of turning into the impossibly small bathroom, though, he continued into the small kitchenette, pulling the curtain as he spun Sharon around him, pinning her against the cool aluminum outer wall of the space.
Sharon smiled hungrily, thighs parted invitingly, Shaun’s hand still pressed against her, finger curling into her. Without being told she eagerly worked her thumbs into the waistband of the shorts, shimmying her hips as she worked the thin garment to her knees before kicking them off. Shaun stepped closer, his free hand cupping her breast. Sharon moaned, wanting to feel his hand on her skin. She raised the shirt, baring both breasts, and pressed her chest against his lips as he bent to teasingly bite at both nipples. Her fingers found his jeans, scrambling with the belt, button, and zip. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Shaun moved close, his jutting cock slapping against her mons. Sharon whimpered, trying to tilt her pelvis, wanting to feel him inside of her. He caught hold of his erection with the hand that had been working her sex, teasing her again, not letting her impale herself.
“This what you want, babe?” he taunted. Sharon nodded, hands pulling at his hips, hungry for more. “Oh no, you have to tell me.”
“I want it,” Sharon answered immediately and loudly, not caring who heard, “Give me your big cock… Please give me your big black cock… Fuck me, daddy,” she cooed, shimmying her hips, batting her eyes, and smiling like she had learned to do at Snake Eyes. Shaun chuckled.
“Damn, but you are shit hot, little Bitch.” He slapped the swollen glans against her clit again, and Sharon nearly managed to climb onto him, literally hitching her bare ass up on the curved metal skin of the stall’s outer wall. “I’m your first… Your ticket to the mile high club?” Sharon bit her lip and nodded, hunching at the wonderful cock so tantalizingly close. “What’re you going to do for me?” he teased.
“Anything!” Sharon answered without hesitation, “Whatever you want, baby… just fuck me. Give me your co… ahhhh!” she nearly screamed as he stepped up, seating nearly all of his cock in her more than ready hole, driving her against the metal wall, lifting her off of her feet. Her hands scrabbled at the narrow aluminum counters. Heels rose, pounding at the backs of Shaun’s thighs as he set an easy rhythm, working the rest of his shaft into Sharon’s twitching, hungry cunt.
Their coupling was fierce but almost silent, the pretty white housewife obviously worried their exchange might be overheard, though Shaun was confident the roar of the engines would drown out anything but a scream. It was a sexy distraction, though, watching Sharon struggle not to make a sound.
“Feel good?” he taunted. She nodded, teeth impressing her lower lip. He reached up, tweaking the pierced nipple, then trailed his fingers down to press against her aroused clit. Sharon’s back arched. A tortured whimper of pleasure escaped Sharon’s throat. “They say the throb of the engines makes it better… Is it?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss her neck. Sharon whined, nodding again. “Oh no,” he said, stopping his thrusting, “You know the rules…” Sharon whined again, trying to thrust herself up and down on his cock.
“Fuck me, daddy,” she managed, “Give me that big cock… God, it feels so good… The buzz is amazing, but not as amazing as that big black cock!” He resumed fucking into her again, and Sharon became more active and vocal, panting that it felt good, urging him to fuck her harder. She cried out as she climaxed, and again only two minutes later. By then Shaun was ready to go. Catching her ass in his hands, Shaun stepped back, bringing the willing white housewife almost into the aisle as he huffed ‘Yeah,’ and began to cum. Sharon shivered, delighted at what had happened, and aware it had been too long since she had enjoyed Shaun’s cock… or any cock, for that matter.
Panting, she slipped clumsily off of Shaun’s cock, and grabbing her shorts up, turned gracefully into the main aisle of the plane in order to pivot into the bathroom, to clean up. Smiling, Shaun grabbed a Kleenex to wipe up the last of his spend before closing his pants and sauntering back up to their seats. He ignored the knowing glances of the flight attendants; why should stews be the only ones to enjoy mile high sex! He had not really planned on despoiling the pretty coed-- it could present a problem later, but only if the team lost. He did not think that would happen, or they would have chosen a different cadre of the BZ Bitches to bring along for the rivalry game…
When Sharon returned to her seat, Shaun pointed out they were flying almost directly over her home. Sharon looked out the window but gave no indication she was feeling bad about what they had just done, considering her husband was 25,000 feet below, blissfully ignorant what had happened to his wife since she had returned to school.
The cities were close enough the pilot announced they would be beginning their descent a few minutes later. Just over an hour after taking off, the plane touched down and the team transferred to waiting busses. Shaun led Sharon through the busier terminal, carrying only a smaller backpack he had retrieved from the duffel; the rest was for the celebration on the return flight.
Thanks to the widespread network of the fraternity, there was a silver Mitsubishi Eclipse waiting for them, the keys tucked into the visor. Shaun chuckled at the thumping bass emanating from the trunk as he pulled out, a woman asking to be taught to do it doggie style. Glancing at Sharon, he decided that he had waited long enough; he would have to visit the club to see if Go was serious about how good she was on stage. With that in mind, he got off of the highway and threaded his way through downtown, pulling in at an older four story brick building with a revamped glass wall facing the parking lot.
“We have some time before the game,” he explained as Sharon eyed the sign on the corner of the building, pink neon reading ‘BAZOOKA’S’ below which the outline of a woman doing a straight leg ‘come hither’ bend made it obvious what went on inside. Sharon was visibly nervous.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she started, “I don’t think Go would appreciate it if I danced…”
“Relax, darlin’,” Shaun laughed, “I just thought we’d sit in and watch for awhile.” Sharon shrugged, offering no further objection. They parked, and thanks to the weekend game, found a small crowd was already enjoying the dancers stripping on the low center stage even before 10AM. Sharon sat at the small table, watching the crowd-- men and women-- as much as the women taking their turns on stage. She was momentarily puzzled when Shaun ordered ‘apple and orange’ from the waitress who appeared to take their order. Shaun noticed her expression and laughed.
“It’s a juice bar,” he explained, leaning close to be heard over the pounding music, “We’re on the other side of the state line, and in the city limits they can’t have booze and breasts… It’s one or the other.”
“So there’s no Champagne room,” Sharon asked. Shaun laughed.
“Well, there’s no official blue room, but most places have a back room where guys who want… a series of lap dances from the same gal can enjoy it in at least a semi-private way.” Sharon giggled, considering there was nothing private about Go’s Champagne room. It seemed especially strange that she was not the least bit buzzed as she sat in the club, and that she was not working the stage or the floor. Her body responded, though, which made sitting still even more difficult.
Shaun enjoyed a passable burger and fries platter, while Sharon picked at the chicken Caesar salad he had ordered for her. It tasted good, but she found herself wishing she had a burger, too. Shortly after 2PM Shaun led her out into the sunlight. The responsive little car hummed once he had gotten back onto the highway. He fished a pre-rolled blunt from a pocket, passing it to Sharon., and soon enough she was visibly blessed, smiling absently, fingers roaming periodically over the pierced nipple faintly visible through the thin white T-shirt. They were at the stadium by 3PM. Shaun tucked the keys in the visor, sending a text to let the local BZ organizer know where the car could be recovered.
Giggling, obviously unconcerned about anything, Sharon asked why they were at the ‘park’ so early if the game was not until later. Shaun chuckled, explaining that they were at the stadium early to tail gate, asking if the pretty white housewife had never tail gated before. Sharon shrugged, explaining that her son, Scott, was a tight end and linebacker on his high school team, but added she really did not understand the game, and did not like watching, since she always worried he would get hurt.
She seemed truly amazed at the party BZ Brothers had arranged in a corner of the parking lot near the south end of the stadium. There was beer on tap, tubs of iced cans and bottles, and a full service bar at each end of a long tent. Tables of food lined two sides of the tent, and frat members of all ages were talking and laughing. Several had their wives along, though Sharon noticed the women seemed gathered together in small groups, mostly ignoring what was happening. She did recognize a few less than friendly glares from several of the women, some of whom were no older than she.
“They don’t look like BZ Sisters,” she said to Shaun, who laughed before answering.
“Oh, they’re not. Those are the wives of some of our alumni,” he told her, “So most of them aren’t too happy to see a BZ Sister.” Sharon nodded, fully understanding why they would be upset. She was a little surprised, though.
“They know what we… I mean, what BZ Sisters do?” the thought made her anxious and she wished she had another joint. She unconsciously stopped looking at the other women, wishing she was at the club or at the frat house, instead. Shaun shook his head.
“Well, a couple were BZ Sisters,” he admitted, watching Sharon carefully for a reaction to that. The mother and housewife had obviously never considered that possibility. “And the others have to have some idea, but it’s not like we advertise how y’all… help us out,” Sharon relaxed visibly. “I think they react that way to pretty much any pretty woman they don’t know who comes around…and even to some of the women they DO know,” he shook his head, “It amazes me how often women get all worried they’re gonna ‘lose’ their husband to another woman but can’t just do what they need to do to keep them, you know?” Sharon nodded but her furrowed brow suggested she was at least a little lost. Shaun draped a muscular arm around her shoulders, “Just stay away from them. Ignore them if they get in your way.”
“And here I thought this might be an orgy,” Sharon pouted without really thinking what she was saying. Shaun laughed.
“All things in good time, little BZ Bitch. For now just enjoy the brunch and mingle; I bet you’ll be surprised how many people already know who you are.” Shaun was right. Sharon was casually welcomed into various conversations about business, movies, local events, and sports. She was amazed at how many of the men called her by name, checking more than once to see if somehow a name tag had been pressed onto her chest. She had grown used to men… actually everyone, eyeing her chest more than her eyes; the piercing just seemed to attract attention like that. It seemed totally natural when the conversing men draped an arm around her shoulders, and more than once Sharon found herself hoping one or another of her new friends would take her somewhere secluded to demand she service them. Each time she caught herself thinking like that she blushed, shocked but no less aroused at the idea she might want it.
She told herself it was the champagne; each time someone introduced himself he seemed to have a flute of the bubbly alcohol for her. Sharon had no idea how many glasses she had emptied in toasts and while talking with her new friends. She had been careful only to nibble on the various hors d’oeuvres out of the usual fear she would ruin her figure; she had not recognized the very real decline in body fat she had realized due to the long hours dancing compared to the too scarce, too small meals she had been taking in. There were other women, too, and while they were almost universally more reserved, they at least smiled and shook Sharon’s hand. Some asked who she was with, and when she explained she was a student and a friend in the frat had brought her along, two or three seemed genuinely interested in what she was studying.
All of the women she spoke with seemed intent on complimenting Sharon for being in such great shape. When asked (as happened repeatedly) how she managed, the blonde housewife shrugged and told them she’d had little time for her usual exercises since classes had started, but added that the frat kept her pretty busy when she wasn’t in class, and that she’d taken up dancing,
The entire party was upbeat and enjoyable, and time simply flew by. Shaun reappeared, and Sharon followed, the world spinning pleasantly around them, as he led not to the nearest of the main gates where the majority of the fans were beginning to head in for the pre-game festivities, but to the closely guarded smaller ‘pass only’ side entrance. The placard on the lanyard he’d draped over her head did not have her name, but was an all access pass, and before she could stop wondering at the amazing difference in the way they were being treated compared to the handful or pro games she had attended with her ******, they were standing in a quiet lobby with what Chris would call ‘the pretty people.’ Sharon giggled at that memory, because she found herself staring in awe at a trio of leggy, stunningly beautiful standing nearer to the elevators. Shaun caught her staring.
“They’re trophy wives,” he nodded as if she had said it, inclining his head toward the oldest of the trio, “That one’s the coach’s wife. And that one,” he nodded toward the second, an impossibly buxom brunette, “Is the AD’s wife. His mistress likes basketball more.” Sharon blinked and looked at him in surprise. Shaun shrugged, “She has to know, but if the option is John Q Public working in accounting 9 to 5 or Mr. Big who lets you have whatever you want but occasionally wants some strange, it isn’t such a trade off, is it?” He did not give Sharon much time to think about that, “And it’s not like she hasn’t found her own ways to… enjoy herself,” he winked suggestively. “Besides, you’re their equal, easy.” Sharon blushed, but rolled her eyes, certain he was just being nice. He shook his head, catching her attention, “I’m serious… See how none of them are looking this way? They’re threatened by you being here.” Sharon was amazed, and felt as if she was aglow at accepting he’d meant his compliment.
She did not dwell on the comparison or her reaction to it, as they moved past the manned open bar to one of the four luxurious elevators. Polite uniformed attendants checked their lanyards once more, a process that was repeated when they got off of the elevator, before Shaun led her confidently to the left. He waved and they paused outside a big room. While Shaun and an older black gentlemen spoke quietly, Sharon gazed in at the suite… oversized hi def screens showed the field on each wall. A big marble island was festooned with appetizers and finger sandwiches. A uniformed woman stood behind a fully stocked bar, working quickly to take care of the guests’ orders. Through open oversized glass sliding doors she could see the field beyond, and the back of a row of individual stadium seats. There were at least 30 people moving about or standing talking, with ample room for more.
Twice more Shaun paused, once exchanging the ‘dap’ she had seen members of the frat doing in various combinations. The man who exchanged the flashy ‘handshake’ kept his eyes on Sharon-- roaming up and down her body-- throughout the greeting. Sharon was a little surprised when he did not ask her her name or say anything to her. Sharon ignored what they were talking about, examining the suite beyond the big man. It was almost identical to the first she had seen, sports memorabilia on the walls between the various plasma screens. At least the food appeared different, she thought, as Shaun caught her hand and led her farther down the well lit hall. He did not stop again until he reached an unmarked door just beyond which the open entries to men and women’s rooms waited on the opposite wall. Catching the key card hanging from his lanyard, Shaun opened the door, and then stepped aside allowing Sharon entry.
The blonde housewife was puzzled when she saw the room was much smaller then the ones she had seen closer to the elevators. There was only a tiny kitchenette, a sTandArd bench kitchen table with one bench replaced by 3 chairs. Stepping closer, she realized the window was heavily smoked, which had not been true at the other suites. It was difficult to see there were two rows of 4 stadium seats, on the other side of the glass. Four more of the plastic folding seats were bolted into place between the dining area and the glass. A single small LCD television was mounted to the wall and provided the only light for the small space. The live feed from the various in stadium cameras was playing on the screen.
Shaun shut the door, moving into the cut out of the kitchenette to open the bar fridge beside the sink. He handed Sharon an Asti single serving bottle, smiling at her expression.
“I know it’s not as glamorous as the others,” he shrugged, “But they cost hundreds of thousands, whereas the frat can afford this one.” Sharon nodded, opening the bottle. “Besides,” he winked at her, “This is more private, right?” Looking around, Sharon saw the small suite in a new light… the glass meant she could prance around naked if he wanted her that way. She smiled , catching herself as she reached to take her top off. Shaun smiled as the ensnared white wife struggled between what she wanted and what she knew was ‘right.’ Stepping past her, he spun the chairs to face the field, clearing space before the fixed table. “It’s not the bed at your place,” he winked, “But I think we can make do, don’t you?” Giggling, Sharon immediately stripped off her top, shimmying out of her shorts a few seconds later. She struck a pose.
“Like what you see?” she teased. Shaun smiled, nodding.
“Damn, little Bitch… You are something, you know that? I think dancing has you in better shape then the first time you shook that ass against me in class.” Sharon blushed; it hadn’t happened like that, she was sure, but the thought of him pressing against her ass that day in class built her arousal. She shimmied, like she would leaning against the pole, delighting in the way Shaun stared at her, his own hunger obvious. He stepped close to her. Sharon dropped all pretense, falling to her knees to eagerly open the ZB Brother’s pants, and deftly slurping his swelling tool into her mouth. Groaning her pleasure around his ebony shaft, Sharon began to bob her head, sucking hungrily as she steadied herself with a hand on his muscular thigh. The fingers of her free hand tweaked her aroused clit and teased her drooling seam with practiced skill. Shaun was careful to get a great ‘POV’ angle shot of her eager performance-- no urging needed. And God, he had to admit she was simply amazing. Despite the earlier activity he realized it was going to be a chore to hold off for what he wanted. Pushing her away gently, he smiled at the need and desire obvious on his married whore’s face as she pouted up at him, still frigging herself.
“I want more,” he murmured. Biting her lip, Sharon jumped to her feet, pressing her naked body against his as she moved to climb up and impale herself. Shaun caught her by the waist. The flex of her muscles was more obvious then it’d been the first time he’d taken her, The curve of her ribs was obvious eve in the poor lighting. “Whoa, Little Bitch,” he cautioned, “We already did that today.” Sharon giggled happily, almost prancing from foot to foot, awaiting Shaun’s demand. He cocked his head, listening to the noise outside the heavy glass slider. He caught the remote, increasing the volume. The stadium announcer completed the introductions for the ‘home’ team. He was glad he had agreed to bring Sharon along-- she was without doubt a shit hot fuck.
Winking, he motioned with his finger in a circle. The aroused white housewife spun, bending over the table, offering her firm bottom. Shaun stepped up, flexed his knees, and teased his swollen glans down her dripping seam. It was almost time. Sharon whimpered, shimmying her hips, hungry to feel him inside of her again.
“And now, please stand for the singing of our national anthem…” Shaun teased the panting bitch again, and then as the stadium began to reverberate with the sound of 60,000 voices, he pressed into Sharon’s cunt, gripping her hips in his hands. He held himself buried, as the little white wife and mother arched up off of the table, crying out incoherently. Smiling, he reached around, catching her bare breast in his hand and pulling her back harder as he began to thrust in and out in hard, full strokes. Sharon’s breath jarred in time with the fucking her gave her.
“Yesss!” she mewled, tilting her hips, pumping herself back at him, “God, so good… so good… Fuck me… Fuck me, Daddy!” Shaun pinched her nipple, his other hand dropping around her flexing hips, pulling her away from the table to press her clit firmly on his next thrust. Sharon cried out with ‘the rockets’ red glare!’ and was still twitching and moaning as the anthem ended a minute later. Though tempted to finish then and there-- Go had laughed when Dave had mentioned her using condoms to prevent catching; she was obviously doing something else to not have to worry about it. He knew from past experience, though, that even the easiest BZ Bitches were reluctant to cross over into the almost lavish women’s bathroom to clean up. And she was going to be busy for the next three hours… he could enjoy a proper screwing another time; maybe after she’d been getting hot and bothered dancing for the crowd at Go’s.
Remembering the almost possessive way the club owner spoke about Sharon, Shaun almost rethought his decision. Based on the way his pet white wife had responded all day, though, he knew whatever Go thought, the little blonde was his to use; the club owner might get her off, but he hadn’t stolen her ensnared affections. His musings had taken him far enough that Sharon was moaning in preparation for another climax.
Shaun backed out, and without being told his little slut spun, fingers burying themselves in her empty, dripping seam as she gobbled at his cock, bobbing her head and sucking ferociously throughout his impressive climax. When he was finally totally empty, he patted her head and she reluctantly sat back on her heels. He glanced out the window-- the game had started. He watched as Sharon finished getting herself off while licking the last of his jism off of her lips before she opened her eyes to look up at him.
“Very sexy,” he told her, “Is that what you do for the crowds at Go’s?” She giggled.
“Oh no, baby… You get the full treatment. They just get a show.” She stood up, looking for her clothes. He held out a hand, and she obediently stopped, waiting naked in front of the glass. He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders, unzipped one of the pockets, and pulled out the ‘fantasy’ costume… and fishnet top in the school colors, mimicking a football jersey. Sharon put it on without question. She paused looking at the number, 70.
“Usually it’s 12 or 69. So that’s special.”
“Why?” Sharon asked, brow furrowed.
“Tom wanted you to wear his number.” Shaun didn’t see any reason not to tell her she had an admirer in the frat. Sharon smiled, turning to look out at the field.
“He’s so big…” her voice trailed off, and she pressed a hand against her still bare sex. “He’s a lineman?” Shaun nodded, as he selected the matching ‘boyfriend shorts’ with the conveniently open crotch.
“He’s the left guard… He protects the quarterback… But it’s the defense out there right now.” He watched in amusement as Sharon dutifully slid the tight shorts up her shapely legs. Finished, she pirouetted for him. He nodded, “Good enough to eat.”
“You promise?” Sharon pouted, twitching her ass. Damn, she’d picked up new tricks.
“You have some work to do first,” he said sternly. Sharon glanced around.
“Well, it can’t be too many,” she paused as Shaun snorted.
“Whatever you say.” He took his phone out of his pocket, sent a brief text, and less than a minute later there was a knock on the door. He opened it, pleased that Sharon didn’t try to hide herself even when he left the door wide while their guest came in. “Shar’, this is Tweak. He’s a local ZB. And he’s going to help us out here, today.” Sharon just nodded. “I’m gonna be in and out, so he’ll be the doorman. You know what to do with anyone who comes to… watch the game with you.” Sharon nodded.
“Whatever they want to do,” she answered automatically. Shaun nodded as well.
“Of course, that means he’s going to be busy here, working the hall and the door,” Shaun continued, “So we’d better thank him before anyone comes a calling.” Sharon did not wait. She sauntered across the short hall, dropping gracefully to her knees to open the stranger’s pants. Tweak watched in disbelief as the beautiful MILF began to suck at his already semi-erect cock. He shook his head, struggling after only a few seconds to maintain control, while flashing a ‘thumbs up’ to Shaun. A hanger on, the man was 10 years older than Shaun, and had washed out of college after completing his eligibility playing football for the rival school. But he was ZB, and had been solid when Dave or Shaun was in town and needed something, so Shaun was happy to share his prize Bitch’s skills with his brother.
“Yeah!” Tweak gasped just as he began to fire into Sharon’s bobbing mouth. The well trained white co-ed swallowed with practiced ease, then resumed sucking at Tweak’s spent shaft, cleaning him up. He finally stepped back, pulling free. Shaun motioned to the stadium seats positioned behind the glass.
“Go ahead and enjoy the game,” he suggested to Sharon, “Tweak will introduce you and make sure there aren’t problems.”
“Where will you be?” she asked in a little girl voice.
“Oh I’ll be back. I have to go rub elbows with some of the others, though, first. I’d bring you, but you’re going to help us out, like a good BZ Bitch… a little oral action,” he did not point out it would be more than oral and more than ‘a little,’ “Helps guarantee we get to keep this little box. Don’t let me down.” Sharon nodded, rising smoothly from her kneeling position, uncaring of her near nudity in front of tweak as she took one of the stadium seats, giggling that it was cold as she adjusted herself to watch the game. Shaun was still amazed at how easily they had so totally conditioned the once prudish white wife, Shaun patted her head as if she was an obedient mutt and headed back toward the larger suites.
Sharon did not react when Shaun went out the door. She was not really surprised when Tweak left the door open, leaning in the open doorway. She was nervous, but it was an excited rather than fearful feeling; she was glad Dave wasn’t around with his cameras. She wondered when she would be expected to ‘go to work,’ but need not have worried.
The next time there was a break in the game-- a television time out the announcer said on the television-- Sharon heard several voices in the hall. A few people went into the bathroom, but she heard Tweak say something, and a moment later two older men were sauntering into the suite. Despite having expected ‘guests,’ Sharon was surprised, as she had thought it would be college students visiting her. The men quickly established they were ZB frat members, and asking if she knew what a ‘good Bitch’ did for her brothers.
Sharon stood, flaunting her body as she asked them who wanted to ‘go first.’ She was a little surprised when the smaller of the pair smiled and opened his pants. He pushed the chairs beside the table against the wall and moved behind the fixed seat so she could begin to suck at his erect cock, and she realized quickly enough why his partner had not taken the lead. The bigger, older frat member moved around behind her, grumbling as he opened one of the condoms Shaun lad left in a bowl on the kitchen counter and slipping it on before he began to thrust into her from behind.
Sharon wanted to tell him he didn’t have to use it, but her mouth was full, and Tweak responded before she came up for air.
“Shit man, you wouldn’t want sloppy seconds, and neither do the other grads. Enjoy reliving your glory days, then go back to the wife without her having to ask why your crank smells like strange.” The guy Sharon was blowing laughed in a groan.
“Yeah, Trent… God you a good cocksucker… Trent, you want skin to skin, feed her your pole.”
“Naw,” Trent drawled, thrusting into Sharon harder and faster, “This is just fine…” He slapped her nearly naked ass, “You are fine, honey. Better then on tape.” Sharon moaned around his friend’s cock, aroused that the man knew who she was, and as ever scared that people she had never met knew who she was and what she was doing because of pictures Dave had taken. She could not dwell on it, though; about that time the guy in her mouth stiffened and began to cum. She slurped it down without effort, moaning again in encouragement as the guy stepped back, watching his buddy continue fucking her from behind. Looking toward the door, Sharon realized Tweak was watching from his position against the doorjamb. And there were two more ZB grads waiting in the short hall.
As she watched, Tweak cleared his throat, turning as if he was coming inside. Simultaneously, the other guys shifted, obscuring her view of the hall; or more accurately obscuring the view into the suite from the hall. Sharon heard women talking-- one of them even spoke to tweak. Somehow the risk of having people walk by so closely with no idea what was happening in the small suite was an incredible rush, and Sharon groaned and shuddered in a brief but satisfying climax.
“Damn, the little Bitch is hot,” Trent told the others, catching hold of her waist with both hands, “I’m about done here.” As he picked up the pace, Sharon dutifully tilted her hips and flexed her knees, pushing back to meet his thrusts and purring just loudly enough for him to hear. “Yeahhhh…” He went still for a moment, then backed out. Even before he had finished, though, one of the new arrivals had opened his trousers to feed her his cock. “Hold up,” Trent said, and the guy pushed at Sharon’s face a few more times before grudgingly backing out, “Does the Bitch know all the rules?” He was holding the condom he had stripped off in one hand.
Licking her lips, Sharon stood up from where she had been kneeling in the stadium seat, snatching the limp latex sleeve in her hand. Tweaking her pierced nipple with her free hand, she trapped the open end of the sheath between her teeth and lips, upended it, and then used her hand to milk his semen out and into her mouth. She finished by swirling her tongue in the emptied condom before throwing it at the little trashcan she had noticed beside the table. The men laughed and clapped as she resumed her position, slurping her new friend’s ready cock into her mouth. His friend didn’t hesitate in slipping another of the prophylactics into place before taking Trent’s place, pushing into her from behind.
“C’mon, man, we don’t want Denise and Yon to come looking for us,” Trent’s friend urged. The larger man laughed.
“No, that’d be a real problem. But you know, I may just have to come relieve myself again, say in the third quarter.” Sharon heard them talking and laughing as they headed down the hall toward the other suites. By the time the second pair had finished, another man was patiently waiting his turn. Glancing at the television, he sighed, stepping up to have her blow him. Sharon watched out of the corner of her eye as she began to bob her head; they were in another time out.
Pretty quickly the pattern was obvious to the increasingly experienced housewife. Whenever there was a break in play, some of the ZB Brothers who were enjoying the big suites would slip away-- she guessed under the ruse of using the rest room-- to enjoy themselves. And while more arrived whenever there was a play stoppage, she was kept busy almost without pause until halftime.
One of the few times she was watching, the offense was out, moving the ball down the field.
“You got a special interest or just a supporting your school?” Sharon looked up to see one of the men she had met in the tent party before the game. She remembered his wife, a chesty brunette who had been nice to her. A pang of guilt-- rare any more-- stole her voice. “Well?”
“Uhm, I-I guess I’m just supporting the team.” The man chuckled, his eyes roaming over her barely covered body.
“That’s not the usual number our entertainment wears,” he pointed out. Sharon shrugged, leaning back, ******** herself to him, in no small part to end the conversation.
“The left guard,” she surprised herself by knowing the position, “He’s a… he’s a friend.” The man nodded as if he already knew that.
“Gardner’s good,” he agreed, and Sharon assumed he meant Tom. She was a little embarrassed she did not know the boy’s name, “I hear he’ll be a first round pick, maybe this year, next year for sure.”
“Pick?” She asked, then stopped immediately. BZ Bitches were to be seen, not heard. The man laughed, though.
“The draft? The NFL? The boy’s gonna have a great career as a pro.” He eyed her again more speculatively, “So you’re the one.”
“I’m the one what?” Sharon expected a description of something she’d done in front of a camera. She sometimes wondered if every ZB Brother had a ‘Best of Sharon’ DVD at home. If she had known how thorough Shaun and Dave were-- every Brother in or out of school who had private email got a steady supply of what was going on in all the BZ Houses across the country. And for that year… hell, for any year in memory, Sharon, the hot housewife, was THE Bitch; all the frat members wanted to meet her.
“I heard one of the team’s hot picks was sweet on one of the Bitches.” Sharon was rocked by what he was saying. She barley managed to keep from saying, ‘But I’m married.’ “Course, I don’t know the last time that worked out…” Sharon blushed, embarrassed… what never worked, her age, her race, that she was a BZ Bitch putting out for all of the frat? “No, that’s not true… What was his name… Jenkins… no Jenson, he married a Bitch from his home frat. And that Tompkins kid… he was a running back. His sweetheart was a cheerleader, but she was also a BZ Bitch,” he shrugged, “So it happens. Sharon shook her head, lifting her left hand to show off her wedding ring. The big man leered. “Oh, that’s right,” still leering, he unzipped, fishing out his rising cock, “Well, let’s just see what hubby’s missing.” Biting her tongue, Sharon moved to take him into her mouth, but the man waved his finger in a ‘no’ gesture before he unrolled a condom onto his impressive prick. “Oh no, I want to truly sample the finest Bitch we’ve seen in years. Turn back around.”
Sharon found herself bracing against the glass as the man thrust himself into her violently. She wanted to taunt him, to ask if he was only a man when he was humiliating women. She’d automatically went into her usual sex patter, knees flexing, pushing back to meet his thrusts, tilting her pelvis to change the pressure for them both. As angry as she was at what he’d said, she quickly found herself approaching a climax… the man knew how to fuck. She found herself staring down at the field, eyes locked on Tom down below. The idea he saw her as more than just a BZ Bitch was ridiculous. Even so, the thought he saw her as something special only pushed the buzzed, over sexed white wife closer to her climax.
Whether it was the change in her breathing or something more subtle, the man thrusting into her obviously sensed how close she was. She was dimly aware of his hand slipping down around her hip, and then there was pressure against her clit as he put his fingers at the top of her seam. Sharon’s breath caught. He went still, buried fully inside of her.
“Yeah, little Bitch,” he cooed, leaning over her to whisper, “You’re gonna cum… Get me off… Milk me with that hot pussy.” Sharon nodded, groaning as she began to do just that. The brute pushed at her again, and she felt him start to cum, too.
Sharon’s eyes went wide. The condom! She started to jerk forward but his hand held her in place. Behind her, the man began to chuckle.
“What, little Bitch? Afraid you might catch? Might take a black baby back home to hubby?” She saw he was holding his left hand out so she could see-- he had stripped the condom off before he’d begun to fuck her. Sharon was outraged. She knew Shaun would be mad; she was supposed to be able to keep putting out for the others in the suites. The awful man seemed to know what she was thinking. “You won’t tell him or I’ll insist when you saw how big I was you told me not to use a condom. Who do you think Shaun will believe?” He chuckled confidently, “When I’m done, I’m going to slip a card into that little box. Tell that idiot you need to use the ladies’ room. Clean up, but save the card for the next time you want a real cock.” and then he reared up, shouting theatrically as if he was cumming.
As he pulled out, he deftly pushed something up inside of Sharon, then feigned stripping off the condom which he handed to the shocked housewife. Afraid to call the man’s bluff, Sharon pretended she was emptying the unused rubber before standing, clamping her thighs tight in hope of hiding what the man had just done to her. She grabbed a mascot sweatshirt someone had left, relieved it was an XXXL and hit almost her knees as she bolted past the surprised Tweak, mentioning that she had to pee. The brute who’d just used her bareback said something she didn’t hear and both men laughed.
Safely in the bathroom, Sharon paused to grab paper towels and wet them before ducking into a stall to attempt a clean up. She found herself wishing she had brought a bottle of water to serve as an impromptu douche. The man’s business card, folded lengthwise, slipped out into her hand, and at a loss for what to do with it, Sharon put it between her teeth. She grimaced, angry that she was tasting the spend of the man who’d been such a brute. She was outraged that he would expect she would call him, and was tempted to simply flush the card with the towels, but she did not. She was a little surprised the card was not already ruined, but by the glossy finish, she wondered if it was even a paper card at all.
She glanced at the card, wiping it off. Reginald Luthor. It did not ring any bells. She tucked it into a cut in the heels she was wearing, then flushed and stepped out of the stall. By the time she had washed her hands and came out of the bathroom, the man named Tweak was starting toward the women’s room, an anxious if not angry look in his eyes.
“C’mon, Bitch,” he scolded, checking the hall, “You’ve got company. Sharon nodded obediently and let the man hustle her back into the dimly lit suite. Two more of the men she had met just a few hours before, talking to they and their wives, were impatiently waiting a turn with the ‘hot BZ Bitch.’
There was not another break before halftime. Sharon was initially puzzled that she got to watch the show down on the field at halftime, but reasoned the men who had been enjoying her were likely spending time with their wives. She was embarrassed at the thought that she was cheating so close to the men’s wives; she had seldom considered that likely many of the men using her at Snake Eyes were married. Shaun had not returned before play resumed, and if anything more men were visiting when the third quarter started. Sharon wondered if the sexy routine the cheerleaders had done had something to do with it.
As the game wore on, more of the men taking their turn teased her, asking if she was ready ‘when her guys lost.’ She did not know what to say, in part because they were up by 6 points. Even when the other team kicked a field goal she never considered they might lose. She was being double teamed when the problems started; she missed the unforced interception that was run back to the 25. She heard the crowd react, a moment later, when the opponents got the ball into the end zone overcoming a fourth and short yardage hurdle on the 18 yard line.
The pair who had just finished up with her hooted and high-fived over her body. Seeing that time had run out, Sharon was grateful the game was over. She rose, moving casually to the little fridge to open another of the personal size Asti’s, washing down a banana from the bowl on the counter. She looked for her clothes, assuming she was supposed to at least put them on over her ‘uniform’ before they returned to the plane. It was another minute before she noticed the way Tweak was smirking at her. She put a hand on her hip trying not to sound irritated.
“What?” she asked, immediately hesitating, hoping she had not sounded too confrontational. The disagreeable little man smiled more broadly.
“You don’t know?” he hooted, “Did you know your boys lost?” Sharon glanced at the television again. Sure enough there were students covering the field, but they were wearing the wrong school colors. She tried to remember if the game had been a ‘must win,’ whatever that meant. She had heard the frat members describing other games as such, but had not been around the frat for a couple weeks.
“Uhm, it isn’t the end of the season,” she was puzzled, and grew more irritated that Tweak was pleased she was clueless. He just shook his head. She shrugged, “OK, I give up.”
“Oh, you’ll give it up, all right,” he cackled, “You think these greybeards were work, just wait.” Sharon tried not to let the smarmy little man scare her. She wished Shaun would return. Spying her T shirt and shorts, Sharon scooped them up and lifted a leg, balancing as she began to dress over the day’s outfit. “I’m not sure you should do that,” Tweak started, then shrugged, “But I guess you got to get down there somehow…” She paused, looking at him, but he did not elaborate. Just after she had gotten her top on, Shaun came in through the doorway. A lanky young man with deep black skin was smiling broadly, his arm around her man’s shoulders. She stared in surprise; Shaun was obviously unhappy. She winced, wondering what she had done wrong.
“Shit, man,” the young ZB said by way of compliment, “This is The Sharon?” Shaun pursed his lips, nodding. The man stepped past Shaun, tilting his head in a strangely birdlike manner as he eyed her from different angles. “She looks like your prize bitch.”
“It IS Sharon,” Shaun said, anger obvious in his voice, “You tryin’ to say I’d cheat?” The taller but less powerfully built stranger raised his hands, ducking his head unconsciously.
“Naw, bra, I’m just sayin’ you didn’t expect to lose her tonight.” Sharon blinked at that, looking between the men. The stranger looked over at Tweak. “Is she good?” The oily little man leered.
“She’s shit hot, man.” The newcomer snorted.
“Great, but will she be able to handle what we brought three BZ Bitches to do?” Tweak shrugged.
“Truth, man, she may just survive the whole team.”
“If you’re worried I can send some others, say after practice next week…” Shaun started.
“You wish. No, you thought you could flaunt your AVN candidate to get a taste of more of our girls. Looks like we get to see what sort of a star she really is, instead.” The muscles in Shaun’s jaw were knotted.
“She better not be marked up,” he warned.
“What, or your boys won’t want her no more?” the tall man sneered, “Hell, she took guys all game but I didn’t hear anyone decide to take a pass.” Shaun inhaled, shaking his head.
“Not what I meant,” he said, pivoting, his more muscular torso seeming to pin the gangly man against the wall, “It’s Thanksgiving break.”
“So what?” Shaun shook his head.
“So she has to go home. Do the housewife thing. If you send her home marked, we’re ALL fucked. Is that clear enough?” Sharon bit her lip, watching the men, listening, still unsure what was happening. The tall young man shrugged again.
“Shit, she isn’t marked up now, man. I’ve got 96 guys on roster, 111 if you include my boys.” Shaun glowered but did not argue, “Now most of the basketball team didn’t make the trip. A half dozen already headed out to get checked at the hospital. And another 4 or 5 were already nicked up and didn’t make the trip. There’s four bible thumpers and four or five who’re not into sharing. A handful are here with ****** or girlfriends, but there’s also a few of the coaches who’re in on what’s going on; they may want a turn.” Sharon had a sinking idea she knew exactly what they were talking about. “Call it 100.”
“I don’t care if it’s one thousand. Nobody marks her up, that was explicit when we talked, remember?” The twitchy young black snorted.
“Sure, sure.”
“Make sure they remember… If someone marks her up, they’ll owe me. They don’t want to owe me what my favorite Bitch is worth.”
“I hear ya. Hell, she’s helping us out here, so nobody wants to screw this up.” Finally Shaun seemed appeased.
“Where are we going to do this, then?”
“Oh no,” the tall man lost his smile, “That’s not happening and you know it. Never has.”
“This is different.”
“No, it’s not. It’s special,” he flashed that smile again, “Hell, it may be the best incentive we’ve ever had to win both basketball games so we can play with her some more.” Shaun pushed his fists into his pockets. “But it ain’t different. She’s a BZ Bitch. We won use of her, fair and square.” He held out a long fingered hand, which Sharon found herself taking without being told. “See, she knows her place. Now I told you, we’ll treat her right.”
“How am I gonna get her…”
“Tweak can take care of that, right man?” Tweak bobbed his head, seeming to mimic the taller younger man’s mannerism. The big athlete did not recognize it or did not care. He led Sharon out of the little suite without hesitation. Sharon had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Already the open suites and halls were nearly empty. The young man calmly led her onto the big empty elevator, pressing a button, then turning his attention to her.
“Damn, bitch!” he smiled, “No wonder Shaun wanted our whole Freshman class.” Sharon blinked at him, not comprehending. “You do know you are shit hot?” She bit her lip and smiled at the compliment, shrugging. “Well, you’ve heard of trophy wives?” She nodded. “Tonight you’re the team’s trophy.” Sharon nodded again, more apprehensively. “Everybody gets a turn enjoying the best known BZ Bitch in the country.”
“Everyone?” Sharon asked hesitantly, “I have to be back to the plane before they leave…”
“Don’t worry,” the young man smiled and waved a hand dismissively, “Like I told Shaun, Tweak will talk to your boys; he’ll figure out a way to get you home.” Sharon realized they had gone past the main level where she had gotten onto the elevator before the game. “Do you know who I am?” the tall black asked her. Sharon shook her head. “I’m MarKing Norris. I’m on the basketball team.” He ran his eyes up and down Sharon’s body, “And I don’t mind saying I’m gonna take a turn with that hot body, too. I hear you’re dancing now, too?” Sharon nodded, glancing at the camera in the corner of the elevator and wondering if there was a microphone on the unit. “We’ll just see if the celebration has started before I find out if I get you first,” he winked, “Well, first to enjoy you as our trophy… or last.” He cupped his groin suggestively and without thinking about it, Sharon’s gaze followed his hand. She stared at his crotch, amazed after what she’d spent most of the last three hours doing that she could still get excited. “Who knows,” MarKing continued, “Maybe Shaun will put you up for a bet on the basketball games, too. Then you could take my big brother and I at the same time,” he winked, “And I do mean Big.”
“Can we get something to eat?” Sharon realized her head was spinning; she had finished too many champagne servings with too little food. He laughed, catching Sharon’s hand again as the elevator doors opened, and leading her into the bare, gray and red painted concrete walls of the stadium’s locker rooms.
“Oh, we’ll get you fed.” The tall black basketball player waved at the guards, who eyed Sharon knowingly, letting the couple through the closed double doors and through the short hall into the visitor’s locker room. Sharon could already hear the shouting and cheering as she followed MarKing through an empty aisle of lockers and benches bolted to the floor.
An almost palpable masculinity filled the air, the odor of stale sweat and liniment, the slight haze of steam from the open showers some of the players were already using, and the adrenaline rush that had not yet eased in the wake of enjoying a come from behind win defeating the much favored opponent. Sharon’s skin was goose pimpled in response. Marking led her away from the noise to another unlit bank of showerheads, and Sharon wondered if she was going to find herself being used there on the tile floor. Instead, the ZB Brother moved past the showers to a small room. Inside, Sharon saw a massage table had been set up. She glanced at the windows, all of which had blinds that had been pulled. MarKing pointed toward the leatherette table.
“Well, get comfortable. It sounds like the party is underweigh; coach will want to head out within an hour, so you’ll have to shake that married ass unless you want to wind up in the bathroom on the bus,” he wrinkled his nose, “I wouldn’t want to have to do that.” Sharon nodded, stripping off the clothes she had put on. When she started to push the split crotch shorts down her legs, though, MarKing put a hand on her upper arm. Sharon blushed at the way she shivered at his touch.
“Naw, leave those on,” he smiled wolfishly, “I think the guys will like fucking over one of their Pussy Cats.” Sharon nodded, trying to decide whether she should lie down or sit or lean over the table. She blinked when MarKing flipped the banks of fluorescent overhead lights on as he went out. Looking around, Sharon was relieved that the blinds were closed-- there wouldn’t be cameras recording what she was about to experience. Had they really said 100 people? She had no idea how many men had already used her that night, but the idea that 100 strangers would want to use her for their pleasure was frightening.
Before she could even consider jumping up to leave, there was the sound of approaching feet. MANY feet. The young men, most still partly in their uniforms, began to push through the door into the small room. Sharon watched their smiles bloom as they saw the night’s prize-- her. Keeping a hand on the massage table, she moved back and forth, showing herself off, as if she was showing herself off for prospective champagne room customers.
A burly lineman, his features vaguely Asian, his gut anything but appealing stepped forward, groping Sharon’s breasts through the transparent costume top. Sharon moaned loudly enough that the guys grew quiet as his fingers roughly pinched her nipples. He smiled, reaching down to strip off his jock strap. Sharon’s gaze followed the motion, but his belly hid his crotch. Without a word, he spun her around to face the table, pushing her forward, deciding the position for her a moment before he drove his erection into her sex from behind.
Sharon gasped as the young man thrust in and out hard and fast. He was not huge, but he was bigger than average, she could tell automatically. He had been rutting into her for almost a minute when she realized that he was not wearing a condom. She arched her back up, looking for Shaun or MarKing, or even Tweak.
“Condom!” she gasped, before realizing another player had moved around the table. The lanky player, still wearing his pads, had pushed his pants down to free his erect cock. She dutifully leaned back down on the massage table, slurping the second cock into her mouth, even as the first player went on rutting into her.
SMACK! He landed a heavy slap on her right hip, and Sharon screamed around the cock pushing into her throat. The recipient of her oral attention groaned at the different sensation.
“No condoms tonight, little Bitch,” the first player laughed, “We get you however we want you.” Sharon shivered at the thought, but did not argue… she really could not argue given her position. She was relieved to hear other players warning their teammate not to ‘mess her up.’ The brute slowed, and then held himself still inside of her as she finished getting the second player off with her mouth. The moment the sated young man stepped back, the first player moved around, pushing his wet cock into her mouth. Sharon accepted it without hesitation, and was not surprised to feel someone else pushing into her from behind even before the first player unloaded in her mouth.
“Spank that ass!” she heard someone urge, and jerked, moaning again around the first player’s swollen cock, when the new player slapped her ass right where the first had done so before. “Yeah, a hummer!” he chuckled loudly, then cut loose without any warning, filling Sharon’s mouth and throat. Sharon was still struggling to catch her breath and swallow the last of his jism down when another cock was presented for her to service. The man fucking her spanked her again when the player she was blowing told him to. Hoping to end the painful spankings, Sharon began to moan around the new cock without the prompting, but by then the team had found their rhythm… their sexual playbook, so to speak.
The helpless blonde housewife endured the first dozen players without any change in the routine… suck one off while being fucked by another, finishing them both with her mouth, and enduring the stinging smacks as if she was a bronc being spurred out of the chute. Sometime during the second dozen, someone decided to fuck her ass, and after that, one of the other hole was always plugged as she struggled to get them off with her mouth.
She was into the third dozen players, having finished the defensive and offensive starting line ups when she begged for a break between being fed strange cock. The players just laughed, taunting her, reminding her she was a BZ Bitch, and that she was their trophy for the night. The friction was becoming uncomfortable, though, and by the time she had hit the halfway point, she was begging for someone to get some lube. They paused, but only long enough to spin her onto her back, leaving her head hanging off of the table as the gang or players fucked themselves into her throat, ignoring her pleas… Or almost ignoring her pleas. They were still spanking her ass or hip, always the right side.
Having ******* her breasts, they began to tweak her nipples, too, laughing as she writhed and whined around whatever cock was pushing into her mouth. It was almost welcome when each new player preparing to thrust into her pussy or ass paused to spit on her crotch, taunting that she had all the lube they needed or warning her to ‘get ready,’ or some other mindless prattle before sawing in and out. Sharon struggled not to give in to the discomfort and fatigue that were making clear thinking hard. Sex had long since stopped being enjoyable for her; it was an ordeal to endure, and she was terrified of what would happen if she didn’t succeed in satisfying everyone. Each time one of them pulled out of her aching cunt, she hoped it was the last, only to feel someone else thrust into her. Along the way she knew that more than two or three had finished off inside of her; she found herself grateful for the additional lubrication it offered.
She was only partially conscious for a time, whimpering whenever her mouth was empty, but obediently sucking and humping at whatever cock was pushed into her mouth or seam… She was dimly aware that someone… looking up blearily she knew it had been more than one someone, had finished off by spraying her chest. She giggled weakly, seeing her top had been rolled up to her armpits, completely baring her breasts. She frowned, seeing that her unpierced nipple was a deep purple, but her disjointed thoughts could not stay on topic as another cock slapped against her cheek. She opened her mouth, accepting it like a good Bitch, wondering why she felt so full when she had had so little to eat during the day.
Sharon sputtered as warm water splashed over her back. She found herself on her hands and knees in the shower. Someone was ass fucking her from behind. She looked up, realizing in embarrassment it was not the showerheads but several team members peeing on her from all angles. Sputtering as urine sprayed her face and soaked her hair with the scent of their masculinity, she glanced back; MarKing was fucking her. Leering at her, he pulled out, plunging his soiled cock balls deep in her pussy.
“Yeah!” he sighed, and she felt him pulsing deep between her legs, “You are a hot bitch… You took the whole team and half of the coaching staff.” Sharon panted, struggling to stay focused. Her entire body ached, but her right nipple and groin were especially sore. Finished, he pulled out with a flourish and she felt his jism and others’, she was sure, oozing out of her loose cunt. The men surrounding her cheered. She was still being showered in urine; obviously new players were stepping up to do the job. Knowing it might cause problems, Sharon flopped to her side, hand cupping her crotch. She shuddered, sure she would never be the same again. Would she ever be able to enjoy sex again?
“Gentlemen!” a voice boomed from the doorway of the otherwise dark half of the locker room, “Don’t make me come in there to see what’s going on. We’re already an hour behind schedule. Get your shit packed up and get on the busses… Good job tonight, gentlemen, you earned your celebration.” There were shouts and cheers. The seemingly unending rain of urine dried up and the press of young men surrounding her began to ease. Sharon simply lay on her side, panting, wondering how it had happened that she had come to be lying naked with a hundred young men having used her. Had it only been an hour? As she struggled to sit up a minute later, she whimpered at the burning that any movement of her labia caused. Holding her knees wide apart, she managed to crawl over to the wall to turn on the nearest showerhead, gasping at the freezing cold water, then whimpering again as her body moved involuntarily, pressing her raw rubbed inner thighs together, and exacerbating the burn.
“Was it good for you?” MarKing asked from the edge of the shower stall. Sharon managed to shake her head ‘no.’ “Really? You seemed to be getting off… at least at first. But taking a hundred guys… Hell, that’s a pretty impressive feat, even if you’ve got all day.” He motioned for her to come over, which she did obediently, hoping he had a towel. He held out a pen, pointing to the page he had on a clipboard, “Could you give me your autograph,” he hesitated and smiled, “I want to be able to remember the night I banged the BZ Bitch of the year.” Sharon took the Sharpie pen he offered, scribbling her name where he pointed without thinking about it. He whipped the clipboard away, eyeing her bruised nipple for a moment, then shrugging.
“Are you gonna be okay?” Sharon nodded. “Gonna come back for the basketball bet?” He laughed at the way Sharon blanched, “Oh c’mon, it’s not nearly as many guys… You might actually like it.” Sharon blushed, but shook her head. “Then it’s a good thing I got to enjoy you tonight,” he smiled, “Did we leave you too sore?” Sharon started to shake her head ‘no,’ but God, it hurt. She nodded briefly. MarKing held up a small baggy with a pearlescent ointment inside.
“Get cleaned up,” he said, “Tweak will be along to collect you once the bus it gone.” Sharon nodded. “Dab a little of this on your pussy when you’ve finished in the shower… It’ll help,” he smiled, “Then do it again each day until it’s gone.” He added a card, “If you need more, just shout; that’s got my cell on in.” He looked her in the eye, “You really are amazing, little Queen Bitch… Like it or not we may have to insist Shaun put you up as the stakes for the next bet.” He swatted her ass with his left hand, making Sharon gasp. Ignoring it… chuckling, even, the tall young black man sauntered down the darkened locker room aisle. In the low lighting in the shower stall, Sharon winced at the obvious bruising on her hip… So much for not marking her up, she pouted, wondering if it would be gone before she had to dance again.
Not wanting Tweak to see her standing naked-- the last thing Sharon wanted was to have someone else fuck her-- she showered hurriedly before looking for her clothes, which had mysteriously gone missing while she was being gang banged. She found the sexy top and crotchless shorts on the massage table, but the T shirt and her shorts were nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a ratty oversized hoodie, that stank of one of the football players. She wrinkled her nose, more at wearing the rival school’s gear, than the odor, but was glad that it reached her mid thigh when she put it on.
Belatedly she remembered the ointment MarKing had given her. Retrieving it from the shower, she carefully collected a bit of the oily material on her fingers, rubbing it over her sort pussy lips, all the way up to her clit hood. Almost immediately, the aching burn eased, to her relief. She put the resealed baggie in the front pocket of her hoody, then wandered toward the main door, wondering if she should exit the locker room before Tweak arrived.
“Little Bitch?” she heard him call, making the question moot, “Let’s go… don’t keep me waiting.” He smiled when she hurried out of the other end of the aisle of lockers to find him standing at the door MarKing had brought her through after the game. The guards were gone, and only security lights provided any illumination. Tweak leered at her, “Now that’s what a BZ Bitch should look like… Well fucked and supporting the winning team.” Sharon just kept approaching, relieved the night was over. He led her through a different hallway, and she was surprised when they exited glass double doors into an underground parking garage. Looking around, she saw only a few cars. Sodium lamps cast a greenish light over the unpainted concrete surfaces. Tweak caught her by the elbow, turning her and leading her a short distance to a small alcove between the exit and the doors they had just left the complex through.
Sharon hesitated, seeing a small, garishly bright green motorcycle. Tweak laughed at her response.
“Never been on a rice rocket?” Sharon shook her head ‘no.’ Motorcycles were dangerous. Tweak fiddled with the other side of the bike near the rear wheel before standing up with a matching green helmet. He held it out as he put the key in place between the handlebars, the reached down to the left side of the bike, turning a small knob. He pushed a small lever down near the back of the same side of the bike as soon as Sharon took the helmet. When he looked back at her, obviously meaning to tell her to do something, he paused, obviously exasperated.
“Uhm, you’re supposed to wear the helmet.” He moved a hand in front of his face, “Less chance of anyone seeing you, right?” Sharon reluctantly put it on. The inside smelled faintly of perfume, and she wondered who else Tweak had chauffeured around on the motorcycle. He watched her fumble with the nylon strap for a moment, then reached up and quickly if a little roughly cinched it tight. It was hard to hear him. “Climb on the back,” he instructed, then gestured. She did, perching awkwardly on the little struts that jutted from each side of the bike. “Keep your feet on the pegs,” he said, Sharon looked around awkwardly, the pegs? “Relax,” he said, patting her knee, “It’s what your feet are on right now. Don’t take them off of the pegs.” Sharon nodded. “Lean the way I do when I do,” he said next. Sharon nodded again. “Spread your knee here,” he said, patting her left knee. Sharon did, wondering if he was about to thrust something inside of her.
Instead, he swung his leg up in front of him and stepped over the bike seat. He straightened the handlebars and brought the bike up off of the stand, the seat shifting and changing Sharon’s center of balance. She instinctively grabbed him around the waist. Tweak chuckled, and she felt the vibration as he turned his head.
“God I love motorcycles… works every time.” She had to smile at that. He fiddled with a button on the right handlebar and the engine stuttered to life. As the engine speed steadied, Tweak kicked the stand up with his left foot, then stepped on a small pedal on the left side before the engine noise changed and the bike pulled smoothly out of the narrow parking slot.
As Sharon got used to the motion and noise and her awkward perch on the small back seat of the bullet bike, she began to look around. Tweak’s feet were tucked back, fairly near hers. The position left the front of her crotch pressed against the seat, and she was glad for the ointment MarKing had given her. The little bike accelerated with impressive power and they streaked through the nearly empty parking lot. It was November, and the air was almost bitingly cold on her bare legs. When the wind yanked the tail of her hoodie up, she gasped at the cold air that reached her nearly naked ass. Reaching back with one hand, she pulled the sweatshirt hem down tucking it under her bottom against the seat. She was glad they were just exiting the expanse of empty asphalt, so that no one had seen her ****** herself.
The nimble bike jumped onto the highway, looping south around the city. Sharon belatedly realized they were heading away from the airport. She shouted ‘plane?’ and was not sure whether Tweak’s head shake meant ‘no’ or whether he simply had not heard her. At highway speed, though, she found her entire focus was on keeping the hoodie tucked under her ass… at least, at first. As her legs grew colder she found herself reaching down one hand at a time to rub the bare skin, and stopped worrying about whether she was showing herself off to passing motorists. From the appreciative honks that trailed in their wake, she was relatively sure she was, and was doubly thankful for the helmet.
As distracting as the cold and the hoodie was the realization that her abused pussy was strangely getting warm. She first noticed as Tweak took the exit for the highway leading toward her home town. As the heat became more insistent, she was embarrassed to realize it was arousal. It was several minutes before she decided it must be the vibration of the engine being transmitted through the bike seat, the way she was seated behind Tweak. Instead of shifting to reduce the pressure and vibration, the white housewife let the pleasure build, relieved she could still feel that after her night.
Tweak sat up more straightly and slowed as they entered the small city where the rival school was located. Sharon giggled at the thought that at least she was wearing the right colors and mascot for the town. She found herself wishing Tweak had not stopped running the bike all out-- when he sat up, she had to shift back, and the delicious buzz she had been enjoying eased off almost completely.
He turned his head and said something to her, but she was not sure what.
“Hungry?” he said again more loudly, slowing at a traffic light. Sharon shook her head. It felt as if she had eaten a huge meal, and she blushed, remembering just what it was that she had eaten. “I’m gonna stop for a drink,” he added-- not a question-- as the light changed and they pulled away. Sharon heard the big truck that had been beside them honk-- she had forgotten about the hoodie’s position and they were on well lit streets once again. She managed to tuck the hem into place again, watching the other drivers as Tweak went down the city’s main drag. At the major intersection southwest of the campus, he turned south, pulling in a few blocks farther on at a low, non-descript building. He joined the row of 4 other motorcycles, carefully backing into his narrow stall before dropping the stand and killing the engine.
Sharon remained perched on the small back seat as he extricated himself. His hand lingered on her bare knee.
“Hmmm, goose bumps,” he chuckled, “Should’ve gotten you some chaps.” Sharon just shrugged, struggling to get out of the helmet. Tweak helped her, and then she followed him into the dimly lit bar. A stage ran along the short side, with a pair of dance poles, and Sharon wondered if her night was not over after all. The conflicting heat between her legs and her cold win burned skin made her wonder if dancing might be just the thing to take care of all of her needs…
Tweak led her to the bar, spoke to the bartender, then led her to a small empty table in the middle of the room. A waitress brought them two mugs. A beer for Sharon and a darker liquid for him. Guiness, she guessed, glad for the drink, which she almost emptied before the waitress had moved away. Laughing, Tweak motioned for the waitress to brink another round.
“Add a chaser,” he said, smiling happily as the young brunette gave him a brief nod before heading for the bar. He toasted her, and drank from his mug as Sharon finished hers. A moment later, a shot glass of tequila and another beer sat in front of her. Tweak had finished his drink, and after winking at Sharon ordered a third round before they went to work on the new glasses the waitress had brought.
Several people came by to talk to them. Tweak introduced her to them as ‘his Bitch, Sharon,’ but she did not mind. Her legs were warming up, but the heat she had been feeling between her legs did not ease off. In fact, it had gotten strong enough she was openly eyeing the various men who were talking to Tweak… even Tweak was looking like a possible solution to her growing problem. Even so, the thought of someone else thrusting up into her pussy after the abuse she had taken that night made her shudder. She wondered what kind of slut she had become to even think about fucking again when an hour before she had been so sore she was not sure she could ever put out again.
At some point, Tweak had mentioned that ‘his bitch’ danced, and several of their guests began to suggest she should get up on stage. Someone laughed that they could see if the bartender would put on an ‘amateur night’ three days early. Sharon blushed, realizing she had almost told these strangers she was not an amateur. She buried her nose in her drink, seeing the waitress heading their way once again. Was it their fourth round? Fifth? As full as she had felt, there had been little in the way of nutrition, and the booze had already carried her past buzzed. She pressed a hand against her crotch, wondering how long it would be before she could get off.
“Do you want another root beer?” the waitress asked Tweak, setting the shot and beer mugs down in front of Sharon. The smarmy ZB facilitator shook his head, laughing at Sharon’s response to hearing he had not been drinking.
“Naw, thanks, Bree,” he knew the waitress’ name, Sharon noticed, “I’ve got to get my bitch back to her old man, but she needed some real action, so I couldn’t hang out as long tonight.” The waitress eyed Sharon for a moment, obviously skeptical about Tweak’s story. Sharon giggled, realizing the reprobate was using her as a foil to get into the pretty brunette’s pants. She nodded, hoping she did not sound too slurred.
“He’s right,” she ‘admitted’ to the younger woman, “I hate to admit it, but I can’t get enough of his big cock.” The woman flushed, but her eyes flickered to Tweak again as she beat a hasty retreat. Sharon laughed at the way the former college student was looking at her. She shrugged, “S’what I’m supposed to do, right?” she said, “BZ Bitches take care of our Brothers.” Tweak looked honestly touched. Sharon moved around closer to him, and when Bree set the next round down, she whispered to the younger woman, “He says he’s here all the time… He isn’t slutting around with anyone else is he? I want all of him to myself.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re just his,” the girl answered back petulantly. Sharon laughed.
“My husband can’t do half the things my Man can do to me… and he’s done after one or two times.” From the way the younger woman’s eyes blinked, Sharon guessed she had never considered having sex more than once or twice in a night. “He caught me, though,” she pouted, “I was hoping to get him ***** so he’d do me again before I go home.” Bree smiled sourly, the wattage increasing noticeably when she turned to Tweak. He smoothly handed her some cash, telling her to keep the change and nodding when she thanked him, adding that she would ‘see him later in the week.’ Sharon was eyeing the stage with envy, sure she could get off if they would let her do her favorite routine. Tweak said something and she nodded, watching as he stepped to the side of the room and made a call on his cell phone. When he had finished, he moved among some of the others, talking to the guys at their tables. He and another black man spoke for a bit longer before the other man nodded and stood. She watched both men head out the front door together. For a moment Sharon wondered if Tweak had left her there, but that did not make sense if he wanted to impress the perky young waitress.
A moment later the men returned. Tweak was carrying something. Smiling, he stopped beside Sharon at their table, holding out the folded black material. Sharon took it-- it was leather.
“Put these on… it’ll help you stay warm,,” he told her. Without arguing, Sharon carried the square folded material into the ladies room. She shook it out, finding chaps like Tweak had mentioned before. It took a few minutes to strap the garment into place and to get it cinched tight. Checking herself in the mirror, holding the hoodie hem up, Sharon giggled, admitting that it looked sexy. She almost wished she had taken the split crotch shorts off-- it would have looked better-- but just getting them on had taken long enough; she did not want to keep Tweak waiting, considering he had been so nice to her.
The ***** mother and wife climbed without hesitation onto Tweak’s bike, leaning against him and holding tight as he repeated the procedure to get going. She had not even tried to buckle the helmet into place, and just walking had been a chore. She didn’t stop to think about the way she tilted her pelvis, pressing her sex against the seat, loving the pleasurable buzz transmitted to her clit.
Tweak hopped onto the highway once again, and Sharon was amazed at how much warmer it was, wearing the chaps. She giggled, imagining she would have to get her own motorcycle, if riding always felt so good. She had expected almost a ninety minute ride to get back to the frat or her condo, and had mostly zoned out. It did not seem like nearly so much time had gone by when the bike slowed, but she giggled, telling herself it was just ‘time flying’ because she had been having fun. Eyes closed, she left her head turned to the side, resting against Tweak’s jacketed back as he maneuvered through town.
Only when he throttled back, leaving the bike in neutral to keep his rolling speed up, did Sharon look up. She gasped in shock, seeing they were not back approaching her apartment. Somehow Tweak knew where she lived… he was delivering her to her real home! She sat up, looking around frantically, but the houses lining the street were dark. And Tweak was intentionally keeping the bike quiet. Still she was grateful for the helmet. She shook him, leaning close to shout as loudly as she dared.
“I need to go to my apartment! I can’t go home like this!” The thought of Chris seeing her like she was dressed… of guessing what she had been doing, even if he thought it was just with Tweak. She was horrified that the thought of that seemed to amplify the insistent pleasure… and the itch for more, that the ride seemed to have triggered. Tweak just shook his head and pointed. Sharon was surprised to see her Range Rover parked in the drive. Turning toward the drive, she saw that he flashed his headlights, and watched as the driver’s door opened. She was puzzled but relieved when Kelly hurried down the drive to meet them.
“Here’s your partner,” Tweak told Kelly quietly over the idling motorcycle engine, “She had a little too much to drink, so you may have to help her out. He winked at Sharon, “Take good care of those chaps and I’ll be by to pick them up next semester… or you can bring them to me when the basketball team comes to play.” Sharon felt herself nodding, having managed to get the helmet off herself the second time. “Bring your friend… I’m sure we can make sure she has fun, too.” Sharon wanted to run to the shadows as the younger black man carefully affixed the helmet she had been wearing to a bracket on the side of the bike. She looked around, certain some neighbor would see them. Kelly smiled at her, playfully slapping her bare rear thigh. Sharon smiled, despite herself.
“Now you two get inside and enjoy your Thanksgiving break,” Tweak chuckled, “Go told me to remind you to practice. And Dave says not to miss them too much, ladies… You’ll be back to being BZ Bitches before you know it.” He revved the bike once, stepped it into gear, and with another brief throttle up built the momentum to carry him away from the house, opening the throttle only when he was almost a block away. The last he saw in his rearview mirror, the thoroughly used white housewife was still standing by her fellow dancer in completely inappropriate clothing, at any moment mere seconds from discovery by her ******…