Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 15C

Original story: Nick Scipio

Continuation: RogueAlan

Chapter 15C: Gift Wrap

Sharon padded naked through her bedroom, iPhone in hand, reviewing her progress on the list she had made of the things to do. She paused, clicking the ball of her tongue stud against the inside of her upper front teeth as she looked at the stack of packages in her closet. Redirecting her gaze to the fit middle aged woman staring back at her from the mirror, she examined the highlighted blonde hair, still short on the sides, though not the extreme cut she had been given her second trip ‘home’ after school had started. Her eyebrows were darker than they had been, as was the thin ‘vee’ of pubic hair pointed at her clit.

Without thinking about it, she reached down, running her finger over her prominent clit, the pressure generating a subtle but enjoyable pleasure that threatened to grow into a demanding distraction. She lifted her hands, examining the 1” long nails that had been reapplied at least three times since they had first been glued onto her fingernails that same trip back… These were a deep burgundy, still red, which the BZ liked, but not the garish fire engine shade with which she had started. She eyed her legs, which she had shaved the night before, and wondered if the women at the mall could take care of them as easily as they had her mons and arm pits.

The jewelry was no longer a shock, even the ring with the BZ bead hanging from her left nipple. She liked the high piercing, and admitted that the navel ring-- new after the BZ Christmas party-- showed off how flat her tummy was. She doubted even Catherine was as close to a six pack, and turned, enjoying the definition of her musculature more than she would have admitted to anyone. She stuck her tongue out, surprised that it no longer hurt where the newest bar had been placed. Dinner Monday night had been a trial, but mostly because she had spent it trying to hide the new piercing, and pizza had not been the best choice for a meal; both she and Kelly had begged off, claiming to have had pizza too much studying for finals, and carefully working through breadsticks, instead. Sharon had difficulty remembering the last time she had eaten so many carbs… it had to have been her last trip home.

She had been relieved to learn Chris had his final urology appointment the next day, which had given her a reprieve from using the new jewelry, although he had noticed it that night at bedtime, and after initial shock, had, to Sharon’s amazement, been delighted at her willingness to ‘try new things,’ insisting that was how they would stay young, and keep their love life ‘fresh.’ She had giggled, admitting when Kelly had suggested she get it as a gift for him she had been puzzled, but adding that the way he had reacted during her last visit home, she had thought that he might like it.

Chris had interrupted any further explanation, assuring her he was confident the doctor would clear him, so they could go ahead, but she had successfully demurred, assuring him they had until after the New Year before she would be headed back to school, and honestly claiming fatigue, since she had barely slept the weekend leading to break.

The girls and Scott had done more shopping the next day, the pleasant banter and casual spending interrupted only by the demand of her buzzing clit, which had pushed Sharon into two separate women’s bathrooms where she could masturbate, wondering as she had done so if she was so totally adapted to having sex that she could somehow need it. That night, she had climbed onto the bed, hands outside of Chris’ thighs as he had watched her in adoring anticipation, his cock waving in the dimly lit bedroom at full erection. She had licked over his length, quickly getting used to the different pressure of the ball moving over his shaft, and delighted at how good a job such a little bauble could do at building a man to climax. She had barely begun to slurp at her husband in earnest, driving her mouth down fully, remembering to fake a gag, when he gasped that he was there, she had moaned, sucking more firmly as he had begun to cum.

When he had been spent, she had sat back, wiping her mouth, looking at him and biting his lip. Part of her wished he had one of the little blue pills he had tried over Thanksgiving break, even though she remembered what had happened to him because of it… And to her. The brush of memory of being taken by the hospital employees had made her clit twitch hard enough she had nearly moaned again. Chris was panting, smiling broadly and shaking his head as he stared down at her.

“Like I said,” she had frowned a bit, “Salty… but not too salty. I hope it doesn’t get in my tongue though…” her shudder had not been feigned, but Donnie had not warned her not to do anything… The way she remembered it, he would have happily had her fellate him immediately after if it had not been for the other customers. And Chris had been asleep by the, or moments later.

Her list still had ‘visit TP’ unchecked, but she was determined not to go back until later in the break… a gift for herself, she could admit with a pang of excitement. Considering her planned present to herself, Sharon reviewed the rest of her Christmas shopping; she had what she had planned to get for the kids, Chris, and Kelly, as well as Flora. Each of them, as well as her girlfriends, were getting sweatshirts or windbreakers or yoga pants with the school’s mascot, and she had picked up DVD’s and CD’s and some other fun things for her ****** without their finding out, even though they had all been using the Range Rover. No one had violated the others’ shopping bags, although Scott and Kelly had both threatened to peek in jest.

Frowning, Sharon wondered what her friends would say when they saw her new addition. She had been invited to coffee Tuesday morning, but had begged, off, agreeing they would get together during the next week, after Christmas. She had talked to Madolen, who had told her ‘everyone was looking forward to next week,’ which she had not understood, assuming that her friend had meant merely their various holiday plans. She had not pressed, confident they would fill her in the coming Tuesday.

The list also had ‘salve’ unchecked; Sharon had been embarrassed at the thought of calling Mr. Norris, considering how they had met, but she had misplaced the baggie with the ointment he had given her. She thought it was still in her robe at Snake Eyes, and the way her clit was sparking during the day, she had reluctantly decided she might have to contact the big BZ alumnus to ask for more.

The seemingly constant low grade arousal she felt had not been lessened by the sexting she had received starting Tuesday night, lying in bed, still not fully satisfied after cleaning up. Chris had been snoring beside her when the phone sparked up, ‘Oh, yeah,’ in a decidedly suggestive way, startling her.

Grabbing at the phone in case it was a call and the inappropriate tone repeated, she had found the text icon had a small red ‘1’ above it. Selecting that, she had gasped aloud, finding a picture showing her riding one of the ‘Santas’ at the party the weekend before. Even as she panicked, deleting the image, her body had nearly begun to shake with her arousal, the sharp ‘Twang’ she was now used to sparking from clit to nipples. Fighting to ignore her rising need, Sharon had set about silencing the phone, when it had almost moaned, ‘Beautiful.’ Belatedly she had realized the first image had been sent from Dave’s cell phone.

Assuring her self Chris was still sound asleep, Sharon had found the message Shaun had sent. She did not wonder at the way the young men changed her ring tones as she realized he had sent a video clip. After silencing the ringer and volume, she had hesitantly pressed play, and had watched the little screen show her standing naked in the bathroom doorway of her apartment, encouraging Shaun to join her. The screen blinked, a different angle, showing the big frat member pounding into her doggie style on the bed. Sharon watched herself, mesmerized. She had her hands spread and thrust forward, bracing against Shaun’s steady thrusts, her body still rocking, but as she pressed her free hand over her wanting sex, the entrapped housewife remembered… she had been pushing back, hungry to feel her big black lover’s cock, deep inside.

On her smart phone’s screen, the video Sharon threw her head back, silently voicing her climax, her body shaking, even as she redoubled the eager way she was hunching back at him. The screen blinked again, showing Shaun looming over her, her ankles crossed behind his waist, kicking ineffectively, but spurring him on as he said something that made video Sharon nod. He went still a moment later, thrust against her fully, and Sharon had begun to masturbate feverishly as she remembered the way he had filled her up, less than an hour before bringing her to the party.

Sharon had managed a satisfactory climax of her own, frigging her clit beside her sleeping husband while watching the clip again. And the married white mother had felt no guilt when she was relieved of the need to cum. She had carefully renamed the file, tucking it into a section of her iPhone that was sequestered from anyone just looking through her phone. She had no idea even at home, in her own bed, her every gyration and moan was being digitally captured, building the library the BZ were profiting by. Chris would have been horrified to learn he had unknowingly signed a release, on a ruse by a ‘carpet cleaning company’ that had offered to do every room in their mansion for the price of 4 rooms. Of course, the images of Sharon’s husband were painstakingly blurred-- the last thing anyone wanted was to kill the goose laying them and providing golden eggs, as Dave liked to say.

Sharon blushed, realizing the memory of the night after getting her tongue pierced had her playing with herself, standing in her closet. Her eyes fell to the glossy red nails moving expertly over her clit in the mirror’s reflection. She did not stop, flexing her knees and shivering as she slid her index finger up into her blooming sex. She applied pressure, pinching her clit with her thumb, the nail edge just barely digging into the sensitive flesh, while her curled knuckle pressed from the inside. In seconds she was spasming in a brief but pleasant orgasm.

She licked her fingers clean, still watching herself in the mirror, and wondered how she had ever gone with just the weekly screwing from Chris as her pleasure. Had she really thought masturbation was bad? It was a ridiculous memory. Trying to decide what to wear, she had paused, remembering Chris Wednesday night… He had seemed as eager as a high school boy viewing his first bare breast when he had gotten home from work. He had brought several movies for the kids, along with a bag of various candy bars, cans of soda, and the local shop’s pizza, insisting that they could ‘fend for themselves.’

He had taken Sharon to the Plaza where they had enjoyed a dinner for two in a secluded booth at the Melting Pot. Sharon had eaten voraciously, reminded again how little she had been eating. As the main course had been winding down, she had happily accepted the last glass from the bottle of sweet Moscato wine, and then had teased her husband, asking what the occasion was. He had stammered, again reminding Sharon of the nervous boy, before he had shrugged and admitted that the urologist had given him a ‘clean bill of health.’

Without thinking, Sharon had leaned close, her hand dropping to his thigh, nails tickling expertly as she had asked in a breathy voice if he had missed her. The erection jutting against his trousers had been obvious, and she had giggled, asking if he wanted to skip dessert. He had managed to laugh, pointing out he could not very well walk out like that. Later she would insist she had to have been *****. Glancing at the curtain, though, she had offered her husband a devilish smile, then ducked under the small table. He had tried for a moment to stop her, but only weakly, a show which had made Sharon giggle as she had deftly opened his pants, freeing his fully erect cock.

Bobbing her head down onto his full length, she had swirled her tongue, pleased that he was the first to enjoy her new bauble. And he had obviously enjoyed it, moaning almost too loudly, his hands clutching the edges of his seat, hips trembling as she had paused every three or four strokes to run the piercing over the underside of his penis. Getting used to the new sensation, herself, she had added suction, and Chris had cum with a grunt less than three minutes after she had ducked under the table.

Sharon had begun to finger herself, as well, and was coaxing the last of his load out while struggling to get herself off when the waitress had put her head through the curtain.

“I was just… Oh, is your wife in the bathroom?” Sharon could only imagine Chris had managed a nod, since he had not answered. The young girl had continued, obviously *******, “Are you ready for the chocolate fondue?” Sharon had almost giggled at the obvious nodding her husband was using rather than trying to speak. She had been tempted to nip at his softening cock, but knew she could not be so brazen… she was horrified that she had actually dared to blow him in the restaurant, despite the semi-private nature of their room.

She had managed to use the flush of her arousal as a feigned blush, slipping back into her seat when the girl was gone. Chris had zipped up, eyeing her in surprise, but by his smile she had been sure he wasn’t angry.

“That was close,” she had managed, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Me either,” Chris had managed.

“Are you complaining?” the pout Sharon used came naturally, and worked perfectly.

“Uhm, no… something Kelly suggested you do?” Chris had answered, and Sharon had enjoyed their teasing banter; she had forgotten how much fun her husband could be. Dessert had been delightful, Chris asking if she was trying to get her to bring her there every time she was back from school, and Sharon asking in response if he wanted to take the chocolate home to drizzle over her body.

At home Wednesday night, Chris had herded her up to bed without checking on the kids. In their bedroom, she had been surprised and delighted to find he was hard again. She had eagerly stripped down, dropping to her knees to yank his trousers to the floor and immediately devouring his shaft. She had been pouting honestly when he had pushed her away after barely a minute, warning if she did not take it easy he would be done before they were started. They had tumbled to the bed, and then he had been over her, inside of her, moving in the familiar rhythm she had come to take for granted during their marriage. Her clit has sparked and she had cried out in climax, wrapping arms and legs around her husband, bucking up to meet him, the once demure, naïve wife long forgotten.

He had joined her in his release, and they had thrashed together through it, then lay panting, tangled, his cock still seated within her until both had calmed.

“Mmm, thank you, baby,” he had said with a smile in his voice, before drifting off to sleep. Sharon had gotten up, married habit leading her to clean up before the sheets became a mess. Balanced on the toilet, she had laughed, recognizing how different it was at school where she usually simply fell asleep in mingled fluids. Maybe because she was balancing her roles as wife and slut without real effort it did not bother her that she was comparing what she did with the frat members with Chris… maybe it was that she had still climaxed, proving to herself she had not been ‘ruined.’ Maybe it had been just the wine she had enjoyed, loosening her already tentative inhibitions.

Thursday had been anticlimactic. She and the kids had slept in, while Chris went to work. Flora had fixed them sandwiches, had thanked Sharon and the kids for the gifts they had prepared, and had headed off to be with her ****** for Christmas. The fixings for the Christmas Eve mean and dinner Christmas day were in the big fridge with her usual meticulous but brief instructions. The long tenderloins had seemed disturbingly to Sharon like big severed cocks to Sharon when she had eyed them that afternoon.

Catherine had insisted on taking Kelly to visit her friends, and Scott had asked if he could have his friends over, to which Sharon had agreed without thought. After making some calls, he had shrugged, telling her they had asked for a ‘rain check’ and adding that he was going to go to the gym. Aware that she had not been dancing or exercising since the weekend, Sharon had gone along. The local 24 hour gym had expanded since she had last been, before school had started. And maybe because school was out, it was busier than she remembered.

She was wearing only a v neck short sleeved shirt and jogging shorts with an exercise bra and Victoria’s Secret cotton thong underneath… nothing overly sexual, but Sharon had been flattered, since every guy eyed her as she jogged on the treadmill for thirty minutes before working through the circuit on the machines. Noting a couple of the more muscular men grunting through their bench press and squat sets, she had found herself daydreaming about how it would feel to have them working so hard at fucking her. She was not half way through the machines before her crotch was soaked, and not from exertion, although none were the wiser in the humid gym-- several women had similar sweat stains, she noted to her relief.

Even so, Sharon paused, masturbating in the women’s sauna and changing to a fresh thong and jogging shorts before she repeated the circuit. Her needs relieved temporarily, she had been impressed that the sheet listing what she had been lifting before leaving for school was no long enough; she was adding two and on some machines three bricks, and lifting them with comparative ease. Finished with two cycles, she left the weight room in search of Scott. Her son was playing pick up basketball on the half court below, and the white wife’s momentarily quiet libido had immediately sparked, watching the lean muscular young black men playing with her son.

TWANG her clit had pulsed so hard she nearly collapsed against the window, a hand going unconsciously between her legs. Sharon’s focus had been so divided she barely remembered to wave when Scott saw her, adding a feeble gesture to her son that she hoped he understood meant she was hitting the shower.

The feeble water from the fixed showerheads was not enough to use to get off, so Sharon chose to climb into the women’s only hot tub. With the bubbles masking her movements, she fingered herself to an orgasm, and a seconds when the need persisted, despite other women coming and going, and a couple even slipping into the tub with her for a time. It was nearly 30 minutes before she came out, her need still acute, to find Scott waiting less than patiently

That need had not lessened during the rest of the day. She found herself day dreaming about the dark skinned clerk at the gas station where they stopped on the way home. And at dinner, the mocha skinned waiter’s smooth baritone seemed to trigger her clit’s spasm whenever he stopped to check on them. Worse, Chris had made no effort at initiating sex, and Sharon had found herself scared to do so, not wanting to be so changed that her husband might suspect she was more than timidly experimenting with him.

Another shower with the handheld showerhead seemed to barely touch her need, and Sharon had eventually fallen asleep only after masturbating again beside her husband, first with the video clip she had gotten earlier in the week, and again after she had unexpectedly received a second clip of her riding ‘Santa’ to his obvious climax. Skin glistening with sweat, she had dreamed of being taken endlessly by BZ members, until the morning, when in a semi-lucid time the dreams shifted, and she was the one dominating big cocked studs, the dream Sharon dressed like Cleopatra, casually enjoying the endless supply of servants and ardent suitors.

‘Beautiful!’ she had sat up, scrabbling blindly for the phone which was lost in the sheet and blanket. Chris had poked his head out of the bathroom.

“That’s your ring tone?” he asked and laughed. Sharon had shrugged noncommittally. “I thought I heard it the other night… That’s from that movie…”

Sharon nodded, “Ferris Buehler. “Kelly or one of the other sisters said ‘it was me.’ I hope she didn’t mean because I was old.” She clutched the sheet to her chest, aware that her nipples were so hard they were tingling. The rush of the dream she had been having was still circulating through her aroused body, and she wondered what she would say if her husband noticed and asked her about it. Chris laughed, and crossed the room, giving her a lingering kiss.

“You’re not old…” he gave her an endearing crooked smile, “Old people don’t do what you did the other night.” Sharon giggled and blushed. “I’ll let you prove you’re not old again tonight once the kids are in bed and we have the gifts arranged… We have all of the gifts, right?” he frowned, as if worried they had forgotten something.

Sharon pouted, “Well, I even have some extra gifts for Kelly and the kids, but you’re impossible to shop for.”

Her husband laughed, “I thought you’d already taken care of my gift.” Sharon was puzzled until he stuck his tongue out. She blushed again.

“So you like it, then?” Sharon bit her lip, pleased that he did, so she would not have to answer awkward questions.

“You,” he bent and kissed her again, “And it are amazing. I can’t wait to enjoy both of you tonight. But work calls…” and he was off, leaving Sharon to get up or go back to sleep.

Probably because she was already excited from the dream falling back asleep had been impossible, so Sharon had gotten up, put a robe on, and had made a pot of coffee before she had begun to wrap the presents. As was her habit, she had used an old Architect’s drafting board Chris had used in college, wrapping the gifts with different paper for each of the people in her ******, plus one ‘Santa’ package for each person, all with the same paper. Along the way, the room had gotten stuffy, so she had tossed the robe onto the bed, laughing that she was more comfortable naked then in clothes.

Standing before the mirror, Sharon’s recollections of Winter Break ended. For a moment the woman in the mirror seemed impossibly sexy, on the edge of a glorious climax. Giving a small gasp Sharon yanked her hand away from her hungry sex and dashed out of the closet to the bed, pawing through the covers. She had forgotten the phone. She shuddered, wondering what Chris would have seen if it had been ******* when he had kissed her good bye.

It was just a text message that read ‘You and Kelly are needed at 5. She’ll explain where.’ Sharon read the message, wondering just what it was Dave needed, and wishing it could wait until after Christmas. Christmas eve was supposed to be about ******; they always did dinner and went to church together. She glanced at the clock, surprised 3 hours had passed as she had sipped coffee, wrapped gifts… She smiled, and of course as she had played with herself. She could not deny that she hoped whatever it was the BZ needed them for she might have some time to really get off on a cock.

Not considering how differently she had come to think about her having sex, Sharon threw on a thong, shorts, and the school sweat pants before she stopped herself, selecting nice slacks and a matching blouse, instead. The slacks were shockingly loose, as was the lace bra she took from the top drawer of her dresser, and Sharon reluctantly chose to wear a cotton Victoria Secret tank with a shelf bra under the print blouse, instead. She put her hair up, as she had taken to doing whenever she was home, and went down to see if the others were up.

They were, but they were also leaving. Catherine explained she still had some shopping to do, waving the keys to her VW bug. Sharon asked where Kelly was,

:”Dunno” Scott said around a mouthful of the cinnamon rolls someone had made from a tube, “She just said she’d be back and ran out to get into a car that pulled up… I nice lowered tinted G35,” he added, which meant exactly nothing to Sharon. “Do you know when ***’s going to be home?” Scott added, “I wanted him to meet the guys.”

“The guys? We have church tonight, Christopher Scott,” Sharon answered sharply, catching her ******** with a pointed finger, “You, too, young lady. Home before 5 so we can eat and get to church.”

“Aw, mom,” both kids complained, “We always do church.” “Yeah, I’ve been invited to the movies.” “The guys are doing dinner and a movie, too,” Scott echoed his sister. Sharon sighed, the anticipation she had felt for the ****** night crumbling, but she did not want to make a scene. And she could not just ignore the text message.

She picked up the phone after hugging her kids and telling them to be safe and to touch base frequently. Chris’ secretary took her sweet time, and Sharon was wondering if maybe she needed to cut down on the caffeine she was feeling so testy by the time her husband picked up.

Her mood was not helped when Chris told her he was not going to be home early, adding that he might not be home until after the dinner they had planned for 7 that night.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Chris,” she meant it as a whine, but realized it sounded more like she was angry. Chris apologized, insisting that he would be home to put the presents out-- she wrapped, he put them out by tradition-- and elaborating about a deadline they could not miss.

“I don’t really care, Chris,” Sharon snapped, “This is our ******’s holiday, and now maybe no one will be home.” Part of her hoped he would decide that was reason enough to ignore the deadline and come home, a thought that started her arousal once again.

“Babe, it’s not… I’d love to be home alone with you right now,” Chris insisted, “But I’m off all of next week, remember? We have to get this in or the whole thing could be ruined. I promise I’ll just pencil in the draft and let Gideon finish it up. You could still go to church… hang out with your girlfriends, right?”

“I guess,” Sharon considered what he was saying, “I can just putter around the house, though… I don’t want to impose on their holidays.”

“Trust me,” Chris insisted, “Every time I see one of them they ask about you. They WANT to see you so it’s fine,” he paused, “Hell, if Heather or Linda hear about your new jewelry maybe their husband’s will have to come thank me by New Years!” Sharon gasped.

“I’m not telling them about that!” she almost shouted, “You’re horrible!” And they both laughed, Chris at having gotten a rise out of her, and Sharon at the thought of either of her friends… any of her friends getting a tongue piercing.

“OK,” Chris was still playing the peacekeeper, “I guess I shouldn’t have said anything to Daniel.”

“You didn’t!” Sharon was aghast, some last vestige of the proper wife horrified that their friends would think of her practicing oral sex on her husband.

“I didn’t,” Chris agreed, “We’ll just keep that our little secret… but what will you tell people when they notice and ask?” Sharon answered without thinking, as if she was working the floor at Snake Eyes.

“I’ll tell them you like the way it feels when I suck you off.” She nearly choked, too late, having remember to whom she was talking.

“Well, I guess that’s true enough,” Chris said after a heartbeat, “Damn, but aren’t you just full or surprises.” Sharon giggled.

“I might wish I’d say that,” she admitted, “But I think I’ll die if someone asks.

“Hell, just tell them it’s a sorority rite and they’ll stop asking,” Chris said, obviously forgetting the difference between ‘little sisters’ and sorority sisters. That confusion was a relief to Sharon.

“Ha, OK, that’s what I’ll do. I’m sorry you won’t be home until late, too, baby,” Sharon meant it, even if the tone was the practiced purr she used to coax John’s into the champagne room at Go’s. “I can’t wait for you to get home.”

“After all this talk, I can’t wait to get home,” he assured her, before his secretary interrupted that Chris had a client waiting. Smiling at his saying that he loved her, Sharon hung up.

She sat down at the computer in the den and made sure everything that she had ordered had arrived. She sent out an email Christmas card, including an apology that it was so short, but reminding their friends she was away at school, keeping busy with her studies. She heard the door beep several times in short succession, and frowned at the kids going in and out like that before she remembered Catherine was getting gifts. She wondered for a moment what he oldest had decided to buy for her mother, especially since she had apparently passed some ‘cool’ test by letting her get the piercing.

When neither of the kids came calling, she assumed they were in their rooms wrapping presents, and continued at the computer. She answered emails, surfed Pinterest pinning up various shoes and outfits she thought were sexy. She got on Facebook, something she rarely did as busy as she was at school, and perused her friends’ pages and posts for a bit, before wandering back to the kitchen for a drink, musing that she could not post much of what she was doing at school on her page. While she had purchased the little ‘pop’ servings of champagne that were her staple at school, Sharon chose a glass of orange juice which she carried back to the den, having remembered a few little things she decided she would go ahead and order, to save for New Years or some other time when a little gift for Chris or the kids might be needed.

She paged through the browser’s History, seeing that her husband was still frequently several porn sites, though it did not look like he was paying for anything. Sharon selected a couple of the sites, based on their names, worried that she might be plastered front and center in a way Chris could not fail to miss. While she recognized a couple of the Sisters in some images on one site, she saw none of herself or Kelly and smiled, pleased that Dave and Shaun were keeping their word.

Of course, the images of various women being thoroughly plundered by various cocks had her more than a little aroused again. At the demanding twang of her clit, Sharon leaned back in the chair and opened her slacks, fingering herself to another climax. The pants were tight and made the job more difficult, but the liked the ease of access to her nipples, thanks to the shelf bra under shirt.

Aware that the kids might come down the hall at any moment, she buttoned up, shut the browser-- after deleting the sites she had visited that day-- and took her empty glass back into the kitchen. It still was not three PM, she saw, from the clock on the range. She decided to grab the towels, in part, subconsciously, she knew to see what her kids were up to, but reasoning that everyone could stand to switch to new towels to get clean for Christmas.

But both kid’s rooms were empty. She grabbed the towels, Scott’s off of the floor, Catherine’s and Kelly’s off of her ********’s bed, and detoured upstairs to the master bath for she and Chris’ towels before passing through the kitchen to the laundry. On the way down the stairs, she thought she heard the television on in the big ****** room, so she went in after starting the laundry, but it was empty. Puzzled, she decided they might be in the basement rec room, and went down the stairs, hearing as she did the sound of the television, playing some sporting event.

“You didn’t say you were home,” she started as she turned at the bottom of the stairs, the big flat panel television casting the only light in the dark room, “I’m surprised you didn’t say you wanted something to eat.”

“Oh, we’re hungry all right,” a voice answered, the shadowed figure sitting up from where he had been lounging in the nearest recliner. Sharon’s heart skipped a beat, because she recognized the voice before she saw who was in the seat.

“Zeke!” Sharon breathed in shock. The big black football star smiled.

“See, guys, I told you she’d know who it was.” Sharon blinked, realizing that there were three other shadows-- three other young men-- in the basement.

“I didn’t know Chris had… you over…” she meant to say friends, but could not make the word come out. She wanted to run back upstairs, but could not move.

“Oh, he’s not back yet,” Zeke waved a hand noncommittally, “But we’re buds… I’ve been over before-- did you know that? He said we should make ourselves at home.” Sharon managed a nod.

“Oh, well, that’s fine. I can… would you like something to eat?” Zeke’s teeth glittered in the blue light of the television.

“Definitely, little MILF,” the others laughed. “But if you wanted to get us something to drink before we begin to eat, that would be cool.” There were nods, Sharon could see. She was having a hard time focusing, because her clit has started to pulse at the realization there were virile young black men in front of her; her body was almost screaming to be taken. She wondered if Zeke’s ‘friends’ had already been inside of her, the day of the football game a few weeks before. The memory triggered another ‘TWANG’ so powerful she was sure the others had to have seen her twitch. “What you want, dawg?” He turned to the others, “Her old man don’t have Bud, but he has some good high end beer…”

“We have orange juice, and root beer, and Diet Coke,” Sharon started, “Milk, and water… I think there’s lemonade…”

“Three beers and a diet coke,” Zeke said, as if it was the most natural request. Sharon bobbed her head once and turned, wishing she was up the stairs already. “But c’mere first, girl,” he said. Biting back fear and arousal, Sharon moved into the dark room, approaching the recliner from the side. Zeke looked her up and down, shaking his head. “You look like you’re ready to go to church or something.” Sharon blushed, at the memory of what she had been doing a few minutes earlier in the same clothes. She managed to nod.

“Well, Zeke,” she said, “It’s Christmas eve. We always go to church on Christmas eve. Don’t you?” One of the others snorted.

“We figure we’re gonna be Playing on Sundays, little MILF,” Zeke answered as if that was an adequate explanation. “That’s a nice get up, but it just won’t do, will it, gang?” Sharon saw heads shaking.

She covered her chest, feeling very naked despite the blouse and under layer, “Please…” there was real anxiety in her voice, bordering on desperation, “This is my home…” There were broad smiles all across the room.

Zeke’s head bobbed steadily, as if to an internal soundtrack, “Yeah, that makes it that much better, right?”

The dark skinned young man to Zeke’s right, his eyes feasting unendingly on Sharon’s body, bobbed his head aggressively, “Damn straight.” She shivered, almost certain she could feel his gaze. She knew that her crotch was soaking wet… Soon her pants would be showing her arousal.

Zeke smiled, “But we’re not minding our manners,” he nodded at the young man in the love seat to his left. Sharon took a hesitant step toward him, thinking she was meant to sit beside Zeke’s friend. “This is Franklin… We call him Train.”

“Train?” Sharon frowned. The young man was broad and muscular, but no more so than the others.

“Yeah,” the fourth kid sneered, “His last name’s Atchison, like that old train company.” Sharon nodded as if that made sense.

“You really think you should be drinking beer on the afternoon of Christmas eve?” she asked.

“Shit, bitch,” the fourth laughed harshly, “We can always get beer here, right, Z? Chris give it to us and without a hassle… sort of like he give up his bitch.” Sharon blanched, an image of Chris calmly letting these boys take her into their bedroom for ‘some fun’ simultaneously terrifying and spurring her excitement. There was something about his voice, but she could not place it.

“Hey!” Zeke barked, “Chill, Allison, this is down low, Shaun made that clear. We fuck that up, we won’t play anywhere.” Sharon remembered an Allison the day Zeke and his quarterback had taken her during the Thanksgiving break game. “John’s just teasing you, Sharon,” he patted her ass as if to relax her, “He won’t say anything.” Sharon nodded.

“But I’m gonna get some of that,” Allison insisted, shifting where he was sitting, “Watching had me so hard I couldn’t run most of the third quarter, and you bastards wouldn’t let me take a turn.”

“That why you didn’t have a catch the second half?” Zeke laughed, “Love told you: you have to be BZ.”

“Well I guess that’s taken care of, isn’t it?” the angrier young man growled, then smiled cruelly at the other young man, who was taller and much less muscular, “So does that mean you just get to watch, Marlin.”

“Damn, Allison,” Train, shook his head, “Would you drop the thug routine? You’re gonna get to fuck her already, right Z?” Sharon balled her fists, suddenly irrationally hating the way they were talking about her like she was not even there. Zeke just offered another of his languid, repetitive head bobs.

“Oh yeah,” he assured the others, “And she is FINE.” He leaned over to pat Marlin’s shoulder, “And in addition to being nice to the girls that’ll bust your nut for you, remember that Marlin’s not just the best three point shot in school; he’s the guy who’s gonna help make sure you don’t flunk out before graduation.” Sharon tried to hide her smile at the way the others had put John in his place.

She also realized that Marlin was still watching her intently, with a quiet intensity rather than the bravado and ego of the others. It was intriguing, and she found herself wondering if the young man was a virgin.

“We’re pretty thirsty, Sharon,” Allison growled, and despite her visible start, Sharon lifted her chin rather than hurry to obey.

“We use manners in this home,” she said stiffly, “Trevor,” pointedly ignoring him, she turned to Zeke, choosing his given name over his middle name or nickname, whatever it was, “Are you going to be driving if I agree to bring you some beers?”

“Well, Mrs. Sobel,” Zeke played along, which served to increase Sharon’s anger at the situation, “I believe we’ll find a way to stay busy long enough that we’d be safe.” She nodded and turned toward the stairs, ignoring Allison’s snort of contempt.

“Uh, what about…” Marlin was talking to Zeke, she realized and did not slow or stop.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke held his hand out and Marlin handed over a white paper sack, “I almost forgot. See, John, that’s why we listen to Marlin; he’s smart that way.”

“Wise,” Train agreed with a somber nod.

“Mrs. Sobel,” Zeke stayed in character, making Sharon want to scream, “We brought you a little something.” He handed her the sack, “We hop you’ll like it.”

“I know we will,” Allison said with a leer.

Sharon pulled a clear plastic package with a paper insert out of the sack. It was an ‘adult’ costume from Pins Parkway. She remembered a few of the costumes Dave had had her purchase. Their costumes could not hold up to the demands of stripping, but had served well at several BZ parties, not to mention entertaining the occasional chip holder with a special fetish or perversion.

Turning the package over, she saw that it was their take on ‘Santa’s Elf.’ Glancing in the bag, she saw that the accessories-- the booties and hat-- were included. She tried not to stare at the picture of the woman on the package, a busty brunette spilling out of the spandex crop top, camel toe barely hidden by the printed ‘tie’ on the front of the high waisted skin tight hot pants.

“Uhm, thank you,” she said, taking a step back, hoping to reach the stairs, even though she knew it was not going to happen.

“Whoa, Sharon,” Zeke was smiling… Damn them, they were all smiling, even Marlin, albeit shyly. “We want to see how it looks on you.”

“Somebody might come home,” Sharon argued, barely managing to keep from unbuttoning her blouse even as she spoke. The heat between her thighs threatened to overwhelm reason. “Can’t I show it to you later?”

“See guys,” Zeke laughed, “She’s so hot she wants us to sleep over.” He looked back at her, “Sorry, Mrs. Sobel, but we can’t risk your ****** finding out how… helpful you are to the frat.” Sharon wanted to sigh in relief, even as she knew he was lying… well, not lying, but he did not care as much as he wanted her to believe.

“If that was true you would not be here asking me to wear that,” she said flatly.

“Zeke stood so quickly Sharon gasped.

“Mrs. Sobel,” he said, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound of disappointment she expected older teachers still used, “I’m sure you’re not arguing.” Sharon managed to shake her head, hating the way her clit was buzzing as he stepped close. And loving it. “In fact,” he deftly cupped her crotch, and Sharon could not stifle her groan of arousal, “That’s what I though,” his leer was close to Allison’s, “You’re so hot you’re about to set those pants on fire, right?” Sharon blushed, but nodded. “It’s okay, Mrs. Sobel,” Zeke stroked her hair, her cheek, making her tremble, “You don’t have to pretend with us. Just try this on, then get us our beers and we’ll let you get off.” Blinking, moving as if entranced, Sharon stepped away from Zeke and away from the stairs, taking a position between the young men. They watched silently as she unbuttoned her blouse in quick economical movements, shrugging the open blouse and shelf T off as one. Train whistled.

“Damn,” Allison smiled, “no bra that whole time… you are a hottie, aren’t you!” Sharon bit her lip but nodded as she released the button of her slacks, pushing them with her thong to the floor. She was more than a little hopeful they would forget the costume and simply take her. There was a tearing noise and she looked over to see Zeke opening the Velcro closure. He pulled the bright green costume out, tossing it casually to Sharon.

“Hurry, Mrs. Sobel,” he said, “We don’t know when Scott will get back.” Sharon wrinkled her nose at the artificial smell of the fabric; she wished there was time to wash it first. The boys watched in rapt fascination as she struggled into the long sleeved crop top, the bottom edge of which left the bottoms of her breasts bare. Without checking, she knew the outline of her nipple piercing was obvious, but as hard as her nipples were, both were visibly tenting the tight material. Maintaining her balance standing while slipping into the impossibly tight bottoms was an almost easy task after the weeks she had spent doing the opposite on stage. They were obscenely short, stopping above the edge of her ass, and clung to her skin, except that she realized they had an open crotch, as the cooler air of the basement reached her enflamed sex without resistance. Zeke handed her the booties… 4” bright green plastic heels with a curled front toe ending in a white puff ball attached to a spandex stocking that stopped above her knees. The hat was spandex, too, but was loose, with a matching larger cotton puff at the end.

Turning with practiced ease on heels lower than what she often danced in, Sharon showed the outfit off for the boys, shimmying to make sure that it was covering… well, that it was covering what it could cover. There was a thrill of undeniable power that coursed through her at the way they were staring at her. Ignoring the small voice screaming for her to lift a leg and spread her sex, Sharon sniffed lifted her chin, and sauntered to the stairs, pausing to look at the staring young men, daring them to tell her to stop.

“Better hurry,” Allison said, pointedly grabbing his crotch, “I see I need to get my package early this year.” Sharon worked her hips climbing the stairs, at least until she was out of the boys’ sight. Then she nearly ran the rest, bursting from the door and into the kitchen.

Shaking with fear that Scott or Catherine would have arrived while she was downstairs, Sharon rushed into the kitchen, not caring that the blinds were open. She threw the refrigerator open, scooping several cans of beer and soda into an empty grocery bag that had not been completely tucked into the crease between the fridge and the counter, then rushed back downstairs, telling herself they would never really do anything when Scott might be home anytime.

She was wrong, of course.

“Thanks, slut,” John smirked, grabbing the bag and tossing cans to the others. “Here you go, egghead,” he tossed a diet soda at rather than to Marlin, but Sharon noticed the young man caught it. And he wisely did not open it.

“Not thirsty?” the more athletic aggressive young man taunted.

“Sorry, Allison,” Marlin shrugged, “But I’ll wait so it doesn’t foam and make a mess on the carpet.”

“Well, that’s thoughtful,” Franklin said, standing up, “But I suspect there’s gonna be at least a little bit of a mess when we’re through.” He caught Sharon by the waist, yanking her close, and forcing his lips down onto hers. Sharon nipped at his lip and when he jerked back she laughed harshly.

“Little boy,” she snorted again, “So confident you’re the big strong man…” He licked his lip; she had not broken the skin. “Oh, you don’t like it rough?” she taunted him, confident they would not mark her up in their own home, even as a small voice was screaming at her that she was crazy to behave like that.

“Bitch!” Train spun her around with a backhand that made Sharon gasp.

“Hey!,” Trevor shouted, lunging out of his seat, “Careful, man, can’t be doing that.”

“She bit me!” Franklin argued.

“Little boy can’t take a love bite?” Sharon managed, from where she was sprawled over the ottoman, “You aren’t so tough after all.” It was unfair, she could admit-- Allison was the one who had been so angry and confrontational. She got a wicked thrill taunting him, though.

Growling in anger, Train yanked his shorts down and threw himself at Sharon… against Sharon.

“Ahhh!” she cried out as he drove his erection into her, “Yes!” Sharon arched her back, tilting her bottom up, welcoming the driving cock, “Fuck me!” Train slapped her ass, then caught her waist, hips pumping as he drove into her full force.

“You like that, bitch?” he panted, “Does. This. Feel. Like. A. Boy.” Sharon had braced her hands against the forward edges of the ottoman and pushed back, welcoming each thrust.

“Is that… all you’ve got?” she panted, then laughed. Roaring, the young man redoubled his efforts, immediately giving Sharon a shimmering orgasm. She clamped her lips tight, unwilling to admit to him the pleasure he was bringing her. She was glad the only light was from the television, masking her twitching body. As soon as she could manage to speak again, which was barely a handful of seconds, she laughed… giggled really.

“Bitch!” Train nearly screamed, lunging as if he could somehow bury more of himself in Sharon’s sex, “Someone shut her up.” Laughing at the spectacle, Allison rose from his position, smoothly dropping his shorts, as well.

“I don’t know, Train,” he taunted, moving forward, “Sounds like the lady knows there’s a better man available.

“Zeke?” Atchison managed through clenched teeth, “Hell, of course he’s better… But if this,” he had slowed to banter with his friend, and thrust especially violently into Sharon at that, “Isn’t impressing her, your narrow dick won’t do more.”

“Don’t talk,” Sharon growled, pushing back visibly at Franklin, “Fuck, don’t talk.”

“Shut her up!” Franklin nearly howled, gripping Sharon’s waist once more and driving into her madly. Laughing, John moved around, slapping his erection against Sharon’s face.

“You heard him, Mrs. Sobel,” he taunted her now as she had tried to shame Zeke earlier, “Open up like a good MILF.” Sharon did, relieved in truth to begin feeding upon the cocky receiver’s shaft, as refraining from moaning had become difficult. She was not surprised when he immediately drove himself into her throat, and feigned a gag, though he was not so big as to impress the well experienced housewife. “Yeah, slut,” Allison taunted, “That impress you? Ready to take that in your married cunt?” Sharon moaned around his shaft, knowing he would interpret it as agreement. “See, Train?” he taunted the growling hammering running back, “She just needed… reminding who’s boss.”

Sharon spasmed between them, and both young men assumed it was pleasure at their thrusting cocks. Instead, the practiced BZ Bitch was laughing at the thought that either man… or both together, could satisfy her. True, she had climaxed again, and Franklin was quite adequately fucking her, but it paled in comparison to what some of her regular partners could provide.

“OK, nigga,” Franklin huffed, “I need… a break… anyway.” And he pulled out. Without thinking about it, Sharon whined in protest around Allison’s cock.

“Yeah, I know, slut,” the aggressive young man laughed, “You’re ready to really feel this.” He backed out, “Ain’t that right?”

“If you think you’re man enough,” she managed, after wiping her mouth.

“You trick ass bitch,” Allison’s eyes narrowed and he pushed Franklin aside, moving around, “In fact,” he thrust fully into her, and Sharon just laughed again, which she saw made Franklin smile. She wondered if he knew what his friend was about to do; she did. “I think what you really need,” he was thrusting in and out slowly, pausing each time he backed out almost completely, “Is an,” she relaxed as he backed out completely and redirected his cock head before lunging at her again, “ASS fucking.” She hissed as he pushed into her almost fully in one stroke, wondering if he would realize she was taking him too easily. He did not, spanking her ass with his right hand, “Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know,” she managed, then giggled, “Are you ready to fuck my ass, yet?” Train laughed, and it was Allison’s turn to shout, catching her hips and thrusting at her in blind fury. “Oh!” she gasped, then giggled after he had been driving into her for most of a minute. “You are fucking my ass… Go on, then… Faster… Fuck me harder.” Looking to her left, she saw the tall quiet young man watching them intently. She twitched her ass, “Oh, that does feel good, baby. Thank you for showing me.” She heard Zeke chuckle behind them, and John reacted by pumping at her more fervently.

“Is it as good as you expected, Allison?” Zeke asked.

“She’s great,” the young tough, gasped, “Shit hot… But Train’s right… gotta keep her… from talking… Bitch… doesn’t know… her place.” At that, he backed out, pushing into Sharon’s empty pussy once again. Sharon shimmied her hips, giving a low moan of pleasure instead of protesting, as she knew John expected. “Damn,” he managed, “If she wasn’t so hot… I’d… Damn, but she’s hot.” Sharon giggled, pushing back at him, and gave a showy moan the next time he bottomed out.

“God, baby, that’s so good,” she cooed, “Fuck me baby… Get me off.” She shivered at how delicious it felt, not just being thoroughly fucked, but at having such total control over young men who thought they were the ones calling the shots.

It was no surprise when Allison stiffened, unable to control himself. Sharon turned her tremors into a reasonable facsimile of a climax, letting her head drop onto the ottoman, ass still high as the latest young man to enjoy her body pulled back, flopping bare assed into the seat to her right.

“Zeke?” she asked after her breathing had calmed. She was no longer concerned that she was almost naked in front of these young men… had known the moment she had found them in the basement they would soon enough be using her. “Is it your turn?” She dropped the pretense… teasing and controlling was fun… it was nearly as exciting as sex, just maybe. But Zeke was not as naïve as his friends, she knew. And after enjoying some fun with the others, she wanted a real fucking.

“Mrs. Sobel,” Zeke said, she knew with feigned concern, “I think you are forgetting your manners.” She half turned, ass still in the air, inviting. “You forgot to take care of all of my friends.”

“Hey,” Train interrupted, “I wasn’t done, yet… I just needed a break!”

“Well, wait your turn, now,” Zeke snorted, “It’s time for Marlin to get a taste of what he can enjoy now that he’s joining us as a BZ.” Sharon looked over at the quiet but intense young man. He licked his lips nervously, looked from Zeke to her, and back to Zeke. “No pressure man,” Zeke said, seeming to recognize his friend’s hesitation, “If you aren’t up for it, it’s no problem.” Marlin chuckled.

“Naw, man… I’d be crazy not to want a taste… You sure she clean?”

“They check her, man,” Zeke assured him, and Sharon wondered just how she was ‘checked.’ “So long as we clean, she clean.”

“Guess I shoulda gone before Allison, eh?”

“Hey!” John argued, then fell back and chuckled.

“Oh, Allison’s no worry,” Zeke assured him, “He talks a great game, but…”

“Hey!” John said again, then glowered… or more accurately pouted.

“It’s Train you got to worry about,” Zeke continued, “That boy gets more pussy than any two of us deserve.”

“Bullshit,” Franklin snorted, “I don’t even get as much as I want… usually.” Zeke laughed at that. “And I haven’t finished yet, anyway.” Marlin stood, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Then I’m not gonna just sit and watch… I wondered why you were all wearing basketball shorts.” He stepped out of them, moving up behind the still aroused housewife.

Expecting uncertainty and bluster after the others, Sharon was surprised when the gawky young man caught the base of his cock, rubbing the swollen tip down her seam. He pressed forward, the edge slipping over her clit, stoking Sharon’s need. Biting back a moan, she tilted her pelvis, wanting to feel him inside of her. Instead, the young man teased back up, almost inserting his rock hard tip, spreading her wet, wanting inner lips. He toyed with her ass, then dipped back, pausing as if to enter her, and then pushed lower, teasing her clit again.

Sharon heard Marlin and Zeke chuckle. It made her angry. She almost lunged back as Marlin’s tip slipped back up, shouting in triumph when she managed to take him inside. Marlin’s hand pressed firmly on her ass, though, keeping her from impaling herself like she wanted. Applying pressure, he pulled free, the wetted tip teasing over her backdoor once again. Sharon whimpered, struggling to take him, even if it was in her ass. She wanted to feel him driving into her.

Chuckling again, the young man released her hold on her ass as he dipped back through her hungry channel. He circled her clit several times, somehow sensing that Sharon was ready to once again throw herself back onto him as he completed the teasing swipe. She tried to calm herself, but only for a second, lunging back unsuccessfully as he teased her, backing off expertly, keeping in contact but not moving inside.

“Fuck!” Sharon growled, feeling the next teasing push. She pounded her fists on the edge of the ottoman. “Fucker. Don’t tease.” Marlin ignored that, circling her clit mercilessly at the bottom of his next pass.

“Gotta ask for it, ma’am,” she heard him say softly. She shook her head angrily; he was supposed to want her to badly he could not control himself. She was not about to break down and ask him to fuck her in her own basement. She levered against the ottoman as she felt his wonderful cock slip back up toward her ass; screamed in frustration when he evaded her need once again. She arched her back, offering her ass. He ignored it, other than immediately plowing back through her seam, almost inside, to resume circling her clit.

“Fuck me!” the words escaped her throat before she could stop herself. “Fuck me, you bastard… Don’t tease me, show me whaaaah!” Marlin lanced into her, a steady thrust, not fast, but complete, and he held himself there, chuckling with Zeke as the impaled white housewife shivered and moaned. He waited for the peak of her release, then began to thrust in and out, but without holding her waist or hips as the others had. Sharon’s fists pounded against the rough fabric of the furniture, dropped to clench at the shag carpet on the basement floor, welcoming the steady thrusting of his cock.

“You like that?” she heard his voice, but was barely aware of where she was, it felt so good, as he moved in and out of her, amplifying her still present need. She nodded, not sure she could speak. And then he was out of her. When he did not spear her ass, she whimpered, ass twitching as she rocked back, hungry to have him keep fucking her. “I don’t think she likes me,” Marlin said to Zeke.

“No!” Sharon moaned, “I love it. Don’t stop… Fuck me, please. Fuck me!” He rewarded her with another full steady stroke, somehow triggering her next climax by the motion. But he did not stop as before, thrusting in, pausing a beat, then backing almost completely out of her clenching channel. Sharon whined, moaned, whimpered, begging for more, urging him on at the bottom of each delicious stroke. He was massive, in her mind, filling her, stretching her… How else could she be getting off so strongly?

When she realized there was a cock at her mouth, she leaned forward, gobbling hungrily at it, whoever it was. Train, she knew by the third or fourth stroke, taking him into her throat and holding him so that the her cry of pleasure was transmitted into Train’s shaft. He groaned, hand tangling in her hair, as he began to fuck himself against her face. Neither cared that she could barely breathe, Sharon because her body was already on the precipice of another climax.

It broke, and rebounded into another as Marlin leaned over her, increasing the pace of his thrusting, and reaching around her torso to pinch as her swinging, pierced nipple. Sharon humped back at him, loving every moment, hoping it could go on forever. Her head spun as she went for long periods without a breath, working Train’s swollen cock eagerly.

“Guys?” Sharon stiffened, horrified at the dim recognition that she had just heard Scott speak…. Her son was on the basement stairs. She blushed, realizing that even knowing he was there, she was sucking hungrily on Franklin’s cock, rocking back to meet Marlin’s rapid thrusting. She could not stop herself, wanting to cum, wanting to get Marlin off, even though she knew at that moment that her marriage was over. “Is that? Shit, you’ve got a girl down here?” Zeke snorted,

“She wanted some cock, and we had some cock to offer.” Sharon whimpered around Train’s erection, her concentration split as she tasted his pre-cum. “C’mon,” Zeke continued, “We’ve all had a turn, join in.”

“Dude,” Scott sounded closer, and Sharon was sure any moment he would say ‘mom?’ “My mom’s car is in the garage… She’s home. If she sees you…”

“That’s why Train’s got his cock in her throat,” John said from Sharon’s side, “She was starting to get noisy and Marlin hadn’t had his turn.”

“Uh, thanks, but I’ll pass…” He had not moved away. Sharon guessed her son had no idea she was the girl the others were using. It made sense, considering what she was wearing and with her face buried in Franklin’s crotch, as well as the poor lighting in the room. She wondered what she would do if her son chose to take a turn. “Maybe I’d better… I’ll go up and make sure mom doesn’t come down,” Scott stammered, moving away from the action.

“Cool,” Zeke said, “We won’t be long, will we, M?” Marlin answered by picking up the pace, pounding into the helpless wife. Sharon cried out around Franklin’s cock, stomach clenching spasmodically as she climaxed yet again.

“You a homo or what?” Allison taunted her son at that moment, “Got a fine piece of ass and you won’t hit it?”

“Uh, no,” Scott answered, “She looks shit hot.”

“Oh, she is,” Franklin sighed, and he began to pulse into Sharon’s mouth, making her struggle to swallow his load.

“So you racist?” Allison challenged again, “Too good to share with the niggas?”

“Dude,” Zeke cautioned, “Uncool.”

“It’s OK, Z,” Scott said, “No, John… I figure having y’all here when I’m not home… not freaking when you’re banging a slut while my mom’s in the house… I think you know better.” Sharon tensed, wondering if her son was about to step up and take his turn after all. “If you want to know why,” Scott went on, “I’m sort of hoping to hook up with the freshman who’s here for Christmas break with my mom.”

“What?” Franklin had started to back off, and Sharon caught his ass in her hands, anchoring him in place as she bobbed her head, cleaning his softening prick, desperate to keep her face hidden. “You getting some from that hot brunette?”

“No… I mean not yet,” Scott answered, the guys hooted, “But I think she likes me,” he added defensively.

“It’s cool, Scottie,” Zeke said, “The guys haven’t met Kelly or they’d be impressed.”

“Thanks, Z,” Scott said, “I’ll be back down in a few minutes. Just keep it down, if my mom found you doing this she’d shit.”

“I dunno, Scott,” Allison answered, “Maybe she’d join in.” Scott snorted, and Sharon heard him climb the stairs. Franklin fell away from her laughing.

“Dude,” he nearly choked, “Maybe she’d join in?” Sharon glared at John, then glanced back at Marlin, angry that they were going to have to hurry up.

“Are you close, baby?” she cooed, and Marlin snorted, then shrugged.

“Guess I have to be.” She blinked at that, surprised that he would admit to having such good control, even as he picked the pace up another notch, hammering against her ass.

“Oh, God, yes!” she groaned less than a minute later, forgetting why she was angry, forgetting the need to hurry, aware only of her imminent climax.

“Ahhhh,” Marlin almost shouted, and the almost searing heat of his release buried deep inside of Sharon opened the floodgates on her own orgasm. Whining, head nodding encouragement, she pressed back against the young man until both were spent. When she sagged forward off of Marlin’s still impressive cock, the other three clapped and whistled. Sharon giggled, the rolled up off of the ottoman, cupping a hand over her open, drooling cunt.

“Is there another way out of the basement?” Trevor asked calmly, handing her the thong, which she knew would do nothing to stem the flow of mingled jism from her well used seam. She shook her head.

“Unless I go out through the steps into the garage,” she answered, “The alarm would beep when I go out and again when I come in through the garage.”

“Wanna hide down here?” Zeke asked, “We can take him someplace to get a snack.” Sharon had the sudden image of her hiding behind the couch while the guys ‘forgot’ she was there and sat watching television for a couple hours. Probably something pornographic if Allison had his way. She had donned the thong, too distracted to argue about what Zeke handed her. She tugged the slacks on one handed, releasing her sex only to raise them the last little bit, leaving a smear of semen over the zipper and button. She pulled the shirt and blouse on over the costume, not caring that it was untucked. She dashed up the stairs, fixing buttons as she went, pausing at the top of the stairs.

“Mom?” she heard Scott calling from across the house. She ran down the hall for the stairs, praying Scott was not in her bedroom.

“Scott?” she shouted back, reaching the top step and the safety of her bedroom a moment before her son came up the opposite stairwell.

“Mom?” he said again. Sharon had almost completed shutting the door.

“You were calling for me?” she asked, peeking through the door, keeping her body out of sight.

“Uhm, mom?” Scott was puzzled.

“Your friends went downstairs,” she stammered, wishing she had told them she would admit knowing they were there.”

“You saw them?”

“Well… Z- Trevor knocked, “ Sharon shrugged, “And explained you were on your way home. I suggested they go watch TV in the basement, but I don’t know who all is over,” she paused, “Is there a problem? I was considering going for a run.” Scott relaxed visibly.

“No, mom,” he paused, “I just hoped you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“Because they’re black?” she asked with a laugh, “I hang out with lots of black students at school,” she managed not to blush or giggle at that, “But next time you might let me know first. Aren’t you coming to church?” Scott shrugged.

“I talked to ***, and he said he wasn’t going to be home, so I didn’t think we were going.”

“You should invite your friends,” Sharon suggested without thinking about it, “We could all go, and then have dinner.”

“I don’t think they’d be interested,” Scott said, we’re just going to eat and see that new Accelerated Anger movie.”

“OK,” Sharon said in obvious frustration, “I guess we were bound to get too busy to keep doing a ****** Christmas Eve.”

“We’ll be home before midnight,” Scott said defensively, and Sharon managed a smile.

“Home by 11,” she said, wondering if she would be home by then. “Go have fun with your friends, but be safe,” she said, then closed the door as Scott went down the staircase she had just come up.

Sighing, Sharon glanced at her disheveled appearance in the mirror. She wiped at her mouth self-consciously, wondering if the smears would clean out of her nice clothes. Glancing at the clock, she gasped, wishing she had time for a shower before she and Kelly went wherever they were headed. Tucking the stained clothes in the hamper, once again cupping a hand over her leaking sex, Sharon hobbled into the bathroom and douched, trying not to get distracted even when her clitoris sparked in response and resurgent need. Satisfied, she was cleaned up, Sharon slipped the tube of KY Jelly that she had bought while gift shopping in case Zeke demanded she come visit him at work again, squeezing a generous amount into her sex before repeating the process at her bottom. Whatever Dave was planning, she did not want to be too tender to sit down when they got home to celebrate Christmas eve.

She selected a thong with a lined, slightly wider crotch and the once tight jeans, pouting that it did not hug her ass like it had when she had bought it. She chose a padded cotton bra and a V-neck blouse, grabbed a North Face fleece, 3” heels, and her clutch purse. After tucking her cell into it, the recently used white wife hurried down the stairs, pausing in the kitchen. She hoped Kelly was not late getting back, worrying how Dave would react if they were not where they were supposed to be at five.

It was just after 4:30 and Sharon was considering texting Dave when she saw a silver gray car turn into their drive. She hurried out, not bothering to shout a good-bye to Scott, who she could hear laughing in the basement with the boys who had so recently been using her like a common slut. She shivered, admitting that at least part of the time that was exactly what she had been.

Kelly lowered her window, motioning for Sharon to climb in behind her, and Sharon did without ever thinking about the simple truth that she was trustingly climbing into a total stranger’s car. Without so much as a nod, the young man deftly backed out of their drive and pulled away.

“Did you have a good day?” Kelly asked, turning to look back at Sharon, who could only shrug.

“Wait,” Kelly said, looking at Sharon critically, “I know that look… You got fucked.” Sharon blushed but nodded. “How… Who?”

“Zeke brought friends over,” Sharon managed, stopping at that.

“While Scott and Catherine were home?!”

“No,” Sharon shook her head, “Well, not at first.”

“What?”

“My son was less than ten feet away while I was putting out to two strangers.” Sharon squirmed in her seat, further embarrassed that talking about it was getting her hot. The driver checked her once for a long second in the mirror, then put his attention back on the road. “Thank God he didn’t realize who it was his friends were fucking,” she finished with total sincerity. The thought of being caught doing that… Sharon shuddered. “Uhm, where are we headed,” she asked when Kelly did not ask for the gory details. Kelly opened her mouth as if to answer.

“It’s a surprise,” the young black man said in a fluid baritone.” Kelly shut her mouth and turned back, looking out the windshield and the side window.

“And are introductions out of order?” Sharon was piqued at the boy’s curt manner. His face turned to hers in the rear view mirror once again, “I’m Sharon,” she continued, “Kelly and I are BZ Sisters at State.”

“He knows that, silly,” Kelly laughed, “He took me around to visit some of the alumni today.” Sharon nodded, assuming she knew what that was about. “I think I have an internship arranged for the summer.” She beamed at Sharon, “Can I crash with you if I get it?” Sharon found herself smiling at the idea and she nodded without hesitation. She decided not to ask just what getting the internship required, or what Kelly would be doing at work. She had a pretty good idea on both accounts, and wondered if she should be looking to do something like that when school was out… She would have to ask Dave about it.

Looking at her friend, she could understand why Scott would be trying to get her to notice him. Kelly was beautiful and funny and smart, and she exuded a sexuality that Sharon did not think had been apparent when she had first met her friend. She wondered if other people noticed the same thing in her, which was more than a little worrisome, considering many of her friends would be bold enough to ask. She reminded herself none of the ladies had seemed shocked or puzzled about a ‘new Sharon’ when they had gotten together after Thanksgiving. She was glad they would be having another get together during her break, so she could see if anyone seemed to notice anything.

The car was comfortable and quiet, and the young man at the wheel was confident and smoothly wove through the traffic on the highway, heading into the city instead of looping to the south. Sharon was a little surprised to see they were going almost 90.

“Uhm, isn’t that a little fast?” she asked. The young man shrugged.

“Maybe. But if 5-0 doesn’t complain, it don’t matter.”

“But you could get stopped?”

“I got you two for insurance if that happens,” he answered with a leer, and Sharon twitched, her clit pulsing with a TWANG at the abrupt mental image of her on her knees blowing a state trooper on the side of the highway. Shaking the image away, she scolded herself; the driver was just kidding, police did not behave that way. She pressed the heel of her right hand against her sex, wondering how she could be so impossibly horny; mad at herself for being so insatiable, and angry and embarrassed by the pointed glance the driver gave her that he seemed to know she was considering masturbating there in the back seat of his car. She told herself it was her imagination-- Kelly was completely *******.

The driver pressed a button on the steering wheel and the car was instantly filled with the bass heavy riff of a hip hop number Sharon and Kelly had danced to regularly. Sharon licked her lips, remembering the last time they had been together on stage, and how alive she had felt, making Kelly writhe and scream in pleasure in front of a hundred odd men. TWANG. She bit her lip, forcing herself to pay attention to the monotony of the passing concrete barriers to the right of the sedan, and the empty tracks of the rail yard west of the city. As they came into downtown, the young man deftly slid up the left exit under the convention center, and Sharon momentarily absurdly flashed on her last trip to the nearby Auditorium. Chris had taken the ****** to see the traveling Wicked show. She giggled, wondering if they were going to see whatever was playing for the holiday.

The driver looked back at her, and she was sure he wondered about her, even though she could not see his eyes through the dark glasses. She almost growled at him, she was suddenly so angry that he had interrupted her memory… or fantasy… or whatever it had been. She smiled, but it was cruel, the blonde housewife imagining riding the young driver as he begged her to stop.

She blinked and looked around as the sedan slowed, turning into a small parking lot south of a five story brick building. She glanced up at the neon sign on the building’s corner: ‘Hot Rockets’ it read, with a cartoon missile being ridden by a busty blonde blowing a huge pink bubble over the bright red letters. There was a spot reserved for the little car, and Sharon did not protest when the driver hurried them inside. Each step between the car and the entrance, she was sure a passing car would be friends who would see her. The persistent willingness to ruin her life fueled her anger, and she glared at the big bouncers riding stools to either side of the club entrance.

“What. The fuck. Are we doing here?” she hissed at Kelly, who seemed totally at ease with the situation. Her young lover shrugged.

“Dave said to be here,” Kelly pointed to the poster over the door into the club. It showed she and Sharon spinning on the pole, with smaller photos at the bottom as men tucked bills into their G-strings, the women jutting their bottoms lewdly over the edge of the stage, of the women intertwined, each with a leg straight up, arms barely covering their bare chests, and a soulful kiss that was more then just the act, closer to the end of the women’s ground work at Go’s. Sharon stared at the poster in horror; it was obviously her in two of the pictures. Someone was going to see. She turned, realizing that the windows above the door meant that people driving north could see…

“That has to come down!” she nearly screamed at the bouncers and Kelly. Everyone stopped, looking at the unhinged blonde who looked like she might climb the wall to reach the big flyer.

“Whoa, whoa whoa,” Dave said, coming out of a hidden door opposite the cashier’s booth. He draped his arms around Sharon and Kelly, maneuvering them back toward the passage he had just exited, “What seems to be the problem, Shar?”

“That poster,” Sharon did not move right away, “That has to come down. Someone will see.”

“That’s the general idea,” Dave rolled his eyes at Kelly, “We wanted your fans to know there was going to be a special show.”

“Chris could see… Or someone who knows us!” Dave snorted.

“A car passing at 30 miles per hour? The worst they would think is that it looks like you, Sharon. You’re a suburban housewife and mother here, not a porn star.” Sharon spun out of Dave’s grasp.

“I’m not a porn star,” she nearly shouted. “Fuck you for saying it! You know I’m not. I just wanted to go to school,” Sharon’s eyes were wide, “I just want to protect my ******.”

“And you are,” Dave assured her, herding both women down the hall, “This protects your ******.”

“Bullshit!” Sharon was not backing down. “This will ruin everything.”

“No one here knows you,” Dave insisted, “And we all know this is not just about protecting your ******, any more.”

“You bastard!” Sharon stopped, eyes wide, and reversed course, “I have to get home.” Dave swatted Kelly’s bottom and the surprised young brunette dutifully stepped through a curtain at the end of the hall. Dave easily caught Sharon’s elbow, halting her retreat. “Let go of me!” Sharon yanked her arm with surprising force, freeing herself momentarily. Dave caught her arm again, though, getting a handful of her hair with his other hand. Sharon responded by kicking at him, and the big frat brother barely managed to lift his knee, blocking her attempt to reach his groin.

“Enough!” he spun the smaller spitfire of a woman against one of the narrow hall’s walls. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I already regret this!” Sharon almost wailed, “You bastards have ruined my life.”

“Uh-huh,” Dave said, “It’s why you were coming like mad in your basement not an hour ago.” Sharon’s breath caught. How could he know about that. “Face it, you’re hooked on black cock,” he continued, “You may not want to cheat, but if we weren’t providing you with it now, you’d be out looking for some satisfaction where hubby will find out.” Sharon shivered in his grip. She wondered if what he was saying was true. She hated the way her body was responding to what was happening and what he was saying. How had she become such a slut?

He half pulled, half dragged her through the curtain, pushing her unceremoniously into a nearby director’s seat. Sharon realized it was the dressing room. There were more vanities then there were at Go’s, but most were empty. She saw that Kelly was already in costume, a matching outfit neatly folded on the vanity to her left, where Dave had seated Sharon.

“Care to tell me what’s gotten into you of late?” Dave did not let up, and had not let go, his hand still gripping Sharon’s hair. “Better speak up,” he warned, “There are always worse things you could be doing…” Sharon sniffed, and glared straight ahead, refusing to look Dave in the eye.

“We’re dancing too much,” she said, “There’s not enough time to even eat… We’re either dancing or exercising or tanning or fucking TA’s.” She tugged at her loose jeans, then pointed out how loose her bra had become, “I’m wasting away… Some days I think I’m sick.”

“That’s why you’re mad?” Dave asked pointedly. Sniffing angrily, Sharon nodded. “Bullshit,” the big frat brother snorted, “I know what’s happening to you now. You don’t need to lie anymore.” Sharon frowned in puzzlement.

“What are you talking about?” she said, “I wanted a break for Christmas. Go said we could take the time off…”

“Go doesn’t call all the shots,” Dave warned, “And you’ve gotten a break… and you’ve gotten to cum in your own house like you haven’t since I was there with you.” Sharon blushed at that, and her clit sparked hungrily. How could he know about that, she wondered, getting angry at knowing so little that was going on in her own life. She stamped a foot.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” Sharon changed tack, “You never said I’d be dancing in my home town.”

“Stripping in your home town,” Dave corrected her with a cruel sneer, “You’ll be stripping and you’ve been doing more, so cut the bullshit.” Sharon sucked in a breath, glaring at the younger man angrily. “And that’s still not it,” he let a little anger creep into his voice, “I Hate it when BZ Bitches think they can lie to us.” Sharon blinked, stepping back in surprise.

“I’m not lying!” she retorted angrily, “I didn’t ask to have sex with those boys today.”

“You didn’t stop it from happening, either,” Dave pointed out, aware that the helpless housewife never really had that choice. “You are going to perform tonight,” he warned her, “The sooner you start, the sooner I’ll have you home. Or I can just leave and you two can find your own way back home.” Sharon looked ready to attack him. He pulled her Demoness mask out of the bag he had brought along, “And if you give me any more lip… If you lie when I ask you something, you won’t get to wear this.”

Sharon hated the relief she felt at seeing the mask… at her willingness to give in and dance if he gave her the mask. Damn it, she was actually wet at the prospect, she realized with a fresh sense of outrage. She reached for the mask, but Dave yanked it back.

“I asked you why you’re mad.” Sharon shrugged. Thought about it for a moment, and shrugged again. “That’s not an answer,” Dave warned, and moved to put the mask back in the pack.

“Wait!” Sharon demanded with another useless foot stomp. “I don’t know,” she added plaintively after almost another minute, “I just… I’m just angry more suddenly.” Dave stared at her for a moment.

It was donning on the frat member that quite likely their prize bitch truly did not understand. He shook his head, amazed that anyone could be so foolish, but relieved as well-- it was how they harnessed so many young women, after all. He kept hold of the mask, but retrieved a zip lock bag he had brought along, holding it up in front of the married blonde sex toy.

“Does this look familiar?” he asked, even as Sharon grabbed at it. He snatched it back, then curious as to what she would do, he let her get hold of it on her second attempt. Nearly tearing the seal open, Sharon got a bit of the oily material on two fingers, and not caring that Dave and Kelly were watching, she opened her jeans and expertly applied the ointment over her clit, sweeping down along her still aroused labia.

“How long have you been using that,” he asked pointedly. Sharon froze, realizing for the first time since seeing the bag that neither Shawn nor Dave had known about it.

“Where did you find this?” she answered automatically, “Were you going through my things?”

“How long have you been using that, little Bitch,” Dave said pointedly. Sharon twisted her mouth, and he could tell she wanted to argue. Instead, her shoulders dropped.

“Since the night the football team used me.”

“The football party?” Her eyes flashed.

“No. The night you let the other school use me, after we lost the game.” Dave chose not to point out she had not been with him that night.

“Where’d you get it?” He suspected he knew the answer.

“MarKing… after they were… when it was over. I’m about out,” she added unnecessarily, “Can you get me more?”

“You’ve been using it for weeks?” Dave was shocked, but it explained so much. Sharon nodded. “Why in the fuck are you using it?” he was glad he had chosen to include Shaun via his cell phone. His partner would find a way to get back at the asshole who had intentionally put their golden goose in jeopardy.

“It helps after… so I’m not so raw.”

“You dumb bitch,” Dave growled, “It works better when you’re already rubbed raw. Why did you believe a word that envious nigger said?” Sharon was taken aback by the language, even though the frat members used it all the time, usually as if it was a term of endearment.

“He was nice to me,” she suddenly felt like a little girl again, rather than the Amazon woman ready to rip Dave’s throat out… she hated the way her emotions see sawed, but had been dealing with that since they had first ensnared her, “He told me it would help me feel better.” Almost as an afterthought, she insolently added, “It has.”

“That ain’t all it’s done,” Dave rolled his eyes. “You are a pock-marked bitch right now,” he pointed at the acne marring Sharon’s pale chest. Sharon assumed he was changing the subject.

“I know,” she frowned, “It’s awful… I have some lotion that’s supposed to help, but it’s everywhere… I think it’s from sweating in all the make up when we’re dancing.” Dave shook his head.

“Sharon,” he paused, “Kelly dances as much and she’s fine.” Sharon frowned. “You’ve lost some weight we don’t want you to lose,” he added pointedly. Sharon glanced at her chest, and blushed.’

“It’s just that I’m dancing too much and not eating enough. My pants are loose, too,” she pulled at the waistline as proof.

“Kelly says you’ve been more aggressive, too.” Sharon frowned and shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she pouted, looking to Kelly, “Are you upset with me?” Kelly shook her head, eyes wide, obviously worried about Sharon and what was happening. Sharon looked back at Dave, glaring at him. “What are you saying,” she paused, “That’s not just because I’m using an ointment on my cunt.” She was taken aback at so easily saying that to him.

“Sharon,” Dave shook his head, “Take off your pants.” Blushing, Sharon did as he had ordered. He pointed, and she dutifully dropped her thong as well. He crooked a finger, leading her to one of the rooms many full length mirrors. “Look,” he said, and Sharon eyed the nude blonde in the mirror. The nipple ring seemed to be in the right breast because of the reflection. The new BZ navel ring hung just below her navel, and emphasized the partial definition of six pack that had appeared in her flat abdomen. The thin vee pale blonde pubic hair seemed to direct her attention to her prominent hood and jutting clitoris. Her eyes moved to the defined muscles of her thighs and calves, the latter accentuated by her heels.

Dave held up his camera phone, and after initially thinking he was taking a picture, Sharon realized he was holding up an image of her from some months before. She absently realized she was standing in Shaun and Dave’s bedroom at the frat… it was shortly after they had mad her their own, when she had realized she had no choice but to do what they wanted.

She blinked in surprise at the changes, and not just in the new piercings. She had known the six pack was new-- she had never had such definition before, even when she had been exercising almost religiously. To her dismay, her breasts were visibly smaller, and hung lower than in the picture on the phone. She tried to convince herself it was just the angle, but her nipples were now clearly more than an inch lower compared to her clavicles, and the volume of each was obviously decreased.

Sharon gasped, though, seeing not the change in her pubic hair, but below… Her clitoris seemed huge now, compared to the way it had been. She could not believe it, and reached down, touching herself. That triggered the familiar ‘TWANG’ and the openly rubbed herself for several seconds before gaining control, and looking at Dave.

“I didn’t know that could happen from having so much sex,” she said, covering her sex with one hand. Dave seemed to choke at that.

“Kelly,” he barked, “Get over here… Get naked.” The little brunette quickly complied, and Sharon found herself looking at her lover’s tight bodied reflection beside her own. A wave of almost demanding arousal swept through her, and Sharon imagined turning and pulling Kelly close, kissing her despite Dave’s presence. Shaking in new fear at such a demanding, aggressive thought, she looked back at Dave.

“You dumb slut,” Dave shook his head, “That’s not from too much sex… That’s from this,” he held up the bag. “It’s steroids. You’ve been taking testosterone for weeks.” Sharon was horrified. She remembered the various ads on television… it could cause cancer. Women were not supposed to handle it, she did not think.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, even as horror and fear threatened to become rage, “That bastard!” she could picture the seemingly concerned MarKing giving her the bag. “Why!?” Dave shrugged.

“Other chapters of BZ are jealous that we have such a great group of BZ Bitches,” he told both women, motioning for them to get into their costumes. Sharon obeyed without considering it, her head swirling at what she had learned. “No more of this!” Dave said pointedly, throwing the nearly empty bag into a trash can. Sharon nodded, even while part of her wondered if she could get the bag out without his noticing. She was not sure why. “Your skin will clear up, we’ll get your boobs taken care of, you’ll be fine.” Sharon nodded again, her focus on the mask in his hand, rather then what he was saying.

“Thank you,” she managed when her costume was in place, the quick release tabs double checked, “Uhm, can I have my mask?”

“Little bitch,” Dave snickered, “You never give up. Sorry, but no. Besides,” he interrupted her argument, “There’s nobody in there you would know anyway.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked angrily. Dave snorted.

“How many of your friends are single men who would be lonely and visit a strip club on Christmas eve.” Sharon had no ready answer for that. “You behave yourself, and maybe you can wear it for the next set.” And with that Dave turned and left the women to finish with their make up before performing on a stage they had never seen before.

Safely out of earshot through the hidden doors at the front of the club, Dave fished his phone out and checked. Sure enough, Shaun was still on.

“You heard?” he asked.

“That arrogant motherfucker!” Shaun was still spitting nails. “It’s a good thing Go got suspicious.” Dave chose not to argue about that. “I’ve already got a call in to his office and his chapter President.

“That asshole has to pay,” Dave agreed, “But it may not be so bad after all.”

“What are you talking about?” Shaun was clearly not past being mad.

“Well, her skin will clear up. I know just who can take care of her breasts, and the clit looks good.”

“Did she handle it well?”

“She was spitting nails, but that will go away, too… Before long we’ll have our meek little housewife back, but with a prize winning clit.”

“I guess,” Shaun was taking some convincing.

“And that smoky voice? It won’t go away either.”

“Good point, D,” Shaun conceded, “You’re right, I guess… it’ll be OK But MarKing,”

“MarKing is going to wish he hadn’t fucked with us,” Dave agreed, “Gotta go, man, their set’s starting,” Shaun heard the muffled beat of the music change.

“Dave,” he said, “Don’t push her too hard, I don’t want to read in the paper about the stripper who whacked a room full of horny guys from ‘roid rage.”

“A’ight,” Dave snorted, “Though watching her tear some of these guys up might almost be worth it.” Shaun could barely hear him over the heavy bass. “I’ll talk to you later.” He did not bother responding to Dave, hanging up, and wondering what the footage would be like; he had never seen a ‘gentlemen’s club’ that was not wired like it was a casino… except with the cameras better hidden. Sure they had to share the girls’ take with Go and the owner of the club where they were dancing… he smiled, remembering the guy’s name, Percy Biggens. Every second the girls were there, though, BZ had the rights to the multiple cameras that would catch their act and the holiday festivities.

Dave pushed the heavy black out curtains apart, ducking into the dimly lit club just as his women sauntered onto the main stage. The crowd was thin, not unexpected for Christmas Eve… even single horny guys usually had ****** or friends to hang with this night. He also knew lots of the girls were off, leaving only the destitute, desperate, and rookies at most clubs. Biggins had jumped at Dave’s suggestion, in part because several of the worn but still usable BZ Bitches had been through his club in the last years. The BZ Bitches had been in service long before Dave or Shaun arrived, a perk of being in the frat. They had merely improved on the system.

Counting, Dave guessed it would be no problem for the girls to handle their duties. As if they had a choice. He considered checking to be sure that they did what had been promised, closing the door once his girls went on stage. The privacy and security fence that screened the impressive downtown parking slab had already been pulled almost closed, and the ‘come hither’ flashing signs that were on when the place was open had been turned off. Percy knew how it worked; he had his hard core regulars here, some probably thanks to a brief ‘guess what’ call they had received during the day, which was fine with Dave. He had warned the savvy club owner they only had 2 hours. saw Percy in a little box at the far side of the club, reminiscent of Go’s perch, right down to the mirrored glass behind and above him.

“And now,” the DJ affected a Michael Buffer tone, “From down the road to help you forget your holiday blues, “Give a Hot Rocket’s welcome to Fallen Angels!” Spotlights hit the masked blonde and brunette as they strutted onto the stage, Sharon in her red and black demoness costume following Kelly in the ‘virginal angel costume. The specially fitted wings on Sharon’s bustier spread out as she lifted her shoulders, throwing her head back to match the scream of the heavy metal track that began to pulse.

Catching Kelly’s hand, Sharon spun the smaller girl around, and Kelly raised her free arm as if in fright, then broke away, leaping to the first pole and climbing it as she spun. Sharon moved in under, acting as a spotter while clawing at the younger woman’s transparent white mini skirt. When Kelly froze, striking a sexy position high up on the pole, the blonde housewife executed her own turn on the pole beneath, grinding against it suggestively, before turning away to bend at the waist, the thick brass centered on the crack in her ass. She flexed her knees, seemingly masturbating against the pole. Shivering, she paused, looking out at the men in front of her and licked her lips suggestively.

Watching, Dave could understand why Go said their captive housewife brought in business like no other three girls. The previously listless crowd was watching the women intently, cheering at Sharon’s change in expression as she resumed humping the pole. Biting her lip, Sharon braced her hands on the floor, doing an angled handstand, keeping her ass, and then her crotch against the metal. When she was high enough, she curled her right leg around, flexing at the waist, lifting her body up away from the floor as she spun beneath Kelly, who was turning the opposite direction, head up. Sharon groped her breasts before catching the pole with one hand and reaching up, snagging Kelly’s skirt with her other.

She released her legs, reversing position before again catching the brass with her calves and ankles, spinning again as she slipped lower until her ass came to rest on the stage. In her hand, she held Kelly’s skirt. The man shouted encouragement.

As the song ended, Sharon prowled the stage edge, offering each man holding up a bill a glimpse of tit as they tucked them into her bustier… Well, at least if the bill was more than a single, Dave noticed with a smile. She had learned how to leave them hungry. By her second pass, it was all 5’s and 10’s being waved. Kelly slipped gracefully down from the pole, moving farther onto the stage, looking about as if she was preparing to flee. The music changed, a heave hip hop number, at which point Sharon snapped her head over, ‘discovering’ the fleeing angel. Kelly leaped for the far pole, but Sharon was faster, catching hold of the brass above the brunette’s hand, and the pair spun together, Sharon smiling wildly, Kelly’s eyes closed in apparent fear. Legs intertwined, they continued the spin, leaning out and waving their arms theatrically as the movement slowed and together they sank once again to the floor.

As Kelly turned away to flee, Sharon caught hold of her wings, which came away to be flung expertly back away from the patrons. And Kelly’s top popped free in the same moment, baring her breasts. The ‘shy’ brunette covered herself ineffectually, as Sharon pulled her close, hands knocking Kelly’s aside as she roughly mauls the brunette’s bare chest. Kissing Kelly’s neck, Sharon threw her head back, smiling cruelly as Kelly’s mouth dropped open in apparent arousal, head lolling back against the blonde.

Sharon turned while rising, pacing around before Kelly, who shook her head as if to banish the impure thoughts she was having, She covered her chest again, and frowning, Sharon pauses, ripping away the front of her own costume, leaving the black wings on , but baring her breasts to Kelly and the crowd. Hips pumping to the music, she squatted, lifting Kelly’s hand to her pierced nipple, then pretending to ‘claw’ Kelly’s. The brunette reacted as if in pain, the movement stripping away the nipple colored pasty she had been wearing over her nipples, making it seem as if Sharon had just magically pierced them. Her head fell back, body undulating, hips finding the rhythm of the song as Sharon rose, hips and ass working as she went around the stage’s edge once more.

The patrons-- regulars, Dave was sure-- were pressing against the rail, eager to get some attention from the black owned housewife. When she had made a complete circuit, shimmying out of her micro skirt, leaving just the thong, demon wings, a belt, and heels, Sharon came back to Kelly, who had been working her end of the stage, bumping and grinding, seemingly ‘overcome’ by the music and Sharon’s touch. Without preamble the older blonde latched onto one of Kelly’s breasts, suckling hungrily, while her hands roamed over the brunette’s petite body. The men cheered as they were teased with glimpses of what lay under Kelly’s thong.

As the third more upbeat number started, Sharon straddled Kelly, and the women did an impressive tandem bump and grind, further enflaming the crowd. As the chorus started, Sharon bent, and the women kissed passionately, before Sharon did a brief handstand, legs splayed in an inverted split, the crotch of her thong dark with her arousal. She spun her hips a half turn, then came down on all fours, her knees beyond Kelly’s head. Pulling herself over the smaller woman by bracing her hands on Kelly’s knees, Sharon glanced at the crowd, ass twitching her intention. There was a collective roar of encouragement, and then reaching down the blonde ripped her thong away and pivoted her lower body forward, driving her sex against ‘the angel’s’ face.

Both women twitched and writhed in time to the music before Sharon threw her head back, crying out in a feigned (Dave wondered) release before reaching down, ripping Kelly’s thong away. There was a collective pause, as two dozen male eyes were riveted to the young woman’s neatly femiscaped sex. Sharon had held her thong, the only ‘disposable’ part of their costumes, and hurling one each to the left and right, she plunged her face between Kelly’s thighs. Dave knew this was where Go had told him this team beat any other pair he had ever put together to dance. Instead of feigning the attraction and the sex, Kelly and Sharon went at it, spurred on by the surrounding crowd, which subliminally he guessed was very like performing at the frat.

And the testosterone’s effects on Sharon were never more obvious. She was the aggressor, taking what she wanted, driving Kelly to a powerful orgasm, and continuing without pause. The men, used to the usual three song set, cheered when a fourth song started. It seemed that the women were ******* of their admirers, leaning close over the rails lining the stage. Bills were tossed at the women, some bouncing off of Sharon’s back, and one tangling in Kelly’s splayed jet black hair. Sharon’s hands had roamed over her body and Kelly’s, and after feigned fear, hands pressed spread wide against the stage for the first verse after Sharon’s assault, Kelly was reciprocating.

When the first chorus began, the busty brunette lifted head and shoulders. Sharon leaned forward, and their passionate 69 changed to a seated exchange, the married blonde’s ass jutting high in the air. At the end of the chorus, Kelly leaned, and a moment later she was on top, no longer theatrically eating the blonde, but instead riding Sharon’s face, hands roaming her body, pinching her pierced nipples, reveling in the debauchery. She paused only as the second chorus began, looking about as if realizing for the first time there were spectators… and what she was doing. She leapt to her feet, trying to run off stage.

The ‘belt’ Sharon had been wearing had been deftly attached to ‘Kelly’s choker, and it payed out as the brunette reached the edge of the stage and disappeared, triggering several loud protests. Sharon came gracefully to her feet, pausing to ‘finish herself off’ with her fingers before the crowd, before holding up her left hand, and showing the other end of what had become Kelly’s ‘leash.’ Snapping it, the coil she raised raced off stage, and then Sharon gave an exaggerated pull, and Kelly was ‘dragged’ back into the men’s view, clutching at the choker around her neck. When she turned to face the ‘Demoness’, the move activated the wings she had quickly changed out off stage, and her new black fletching spread behind her shoulders as Sharon’s had at the set’s beginning.

Abandoning her half hearted attempt to escape, Kelly paused when Sharon quit pulling, looking about imperiously at the men eyeing them and cheering. Tossing her hair, she strutted across the stage, pausing for a heels high turn on the close pole and leaving the ‘leash’ there as she continued, meting Sharon beyond the far pole at the rounded front of the stage. Sharon lifted her chin when the smaller brunette paused before her. Reaching up, Kelly caught Sharon’s hair, then pulled the older woman down, and they kissed, legs entwined, grinding against each other standing up, wings moving as the final song closed.

They stepped apart, bowed to the front and both sides, Sharon slapping Kelly’s ass when she turned away from the blonde to the left. Each made a full pass of the stage, picking up the various bills and pausing to let the men tuck additional bills into the garter each wore for that specific purpose. Neither was good at keeping the ‘veils’ that had been left by passing wait staff to ‘shield them’ from the men in place-- they had never used them at Go’s. Their ease at being nude around strangers just increased their audience’s fervor.

Only when they were safely back stage did one of the new ‘regular’ dancers warn them they could ‘get the place closed down’ if they didn’t keep covered up when interacting with the customers. Percy had come in-- like Go, his presence in the girls’ dressing room caused no commotion, it was so common-- and he laughed, swatting the pouting dishwater blonde on the ass.

“Get out there and earn your keep, Pink.” Dave, who had followed Percy in realized the young performer had ink matching the singer. He wondered if she had started out with her hair dyed and cut in the too boyish bob. Chastised, the young dancer cast a final jealous glare at Kelly and Sharon before she turned on a 5” heel and went through the curtain to join the first girl who had started the next set.

Percy looked at the visiting dancers, both of whom were flushed with arousal, standing calmly before him in just the bits of their costumes that were left at the end of their set. Damn, he had a great job. “Great work out there,” he smiled, “Though Pink is right… if this wasn’t a special night you and I could get in trouble getting that close to the guests without being covered up.”

“Who are you kidding?” Dave snorted, “Come the new year they won’t let your girls show anything.” Percy shook his head,

“Don’t remind me.” The city council was happy taking the tens of thousands he paid each year in tax. But when the city had built the new arena north of the highway, even his clean and well kept establishment four blocks south of the highway had been too close. ‘Progressive’ legislators had pushed through a bill banning nudity even in the juice bars. As of the New Year it would be a ‘lingerie club.’ And he expected to lose more than half of his revenue. But he was always looking for ways to spin things his own way, “We’re putting in a gym upstairs. It’s going to offer cheap ‘pole dancing exercise routines.”

“Great way to recruit new talent,” Dave agreed with a knowing smile. They might have to provide Percy with some of the special sauce they used to help ensnare the girls.

“It ain’t lemonade, but it ain’t out of business, either,” Percy allowed. “‘Sides, I got a shop opening up just outside the city limits west… It’ll pull the kids from the university. And we’re opening a shop east of here, too, where the others went the last time the City Council got uppity. How long do you think before they’ll be letting things get a little more lax to help entertain the various conventions they’ll have going through?” Dave nodded his agreement, “So we’ll keep this place as it is downstairs… the girls starting out can learn the ropes and not feel quite like they’ve been thrown to the wolves.” He glanced at Sharon especially, “You sure you’re married, girl? You move like a natural.” Sharon blushed but held up her hand, showing off her ring. Percy shook his head in feigned puzzlement. “So this is home for you?” The blush deepened. After a moment Sharon nodded. “Hell, maybe you can come exercise here,” he smiled, “Maybe even help teach the new girls so they can pull a crowd like you two.” He shook his head, “How much did you get?” Both women shrugged then, and with Dave and Percy they straightened, stacked, then counted the various bills. It came to $283. “That’s about twice what the girls usually pull,” he said, honestly impressed, “And that’s just your first set.”

“We can’t stay all night,” Sharon said haughtily, “We have to be home to go to church.” The club owner just snorted at that.

“Okay, girlie,” he shook his head, “Dave said you were a little spitfire…” whatever else he was thinking he did not share, “Well, you know you got to let these little girls have a turn… Pink may actually make a bit tonight following that rev up. We’ll get you back on stage in an hour, then you can do your finale in two hours.”

“We’ll go on in 45 minutes and do two songs in ninety minutes or you’ll have to settle for two sets,” Sharon said angrily. Percy chewed at his lip for a moment.

“OK,” he bobbed his head, “You do your next set and a shirt set in 45 minutes, and we’ll call it good.” Sharon nodded, pretending she knew what he meant by a shirt set. Only when Percy and Dave had filed out did she look over at Kelly.

“That wasn’t bad at all,” the brunette giggled, “God you can get me off so fast it’s scary.” Sharon smiled, leaning over to kiss Kelly, ignoring the looks of the other dancers in the room.

“That’s funny,” she murmured, “I was thinking the same about you.” She absently began to remove the rest of the costume, something Go had provided when he had chosen their name. “I wonder if they’d have been okay if we’d stopped dancing and just went at it.”

“I thought we WERE just going at it,” Kelly giggled again, pressing a palm against her mons. The raw sensuality of the move made Sharon’s clit pulse, TWANG. She shivered, and wondered when that would stop after she stopped the damn hormone cream. And then was horrified to realize she was wondering if she wanted to stop using it. They collected the bits and pieces of the costumes, carefully packing them in the large ‘Dream Dancer’ duffle Go had provided them, replete with ‘their’ logo on the pockets. Sharon blinked at the silhouette of the women at the point of their first set when they’re standing, intertwined, grinding. Arousal sparked again and she struggled to push the need away, glad that in the photo patch she was wearing her ‘Demoness’ mask… She doubted Chris would recognize her, even if her bare breast and pierced nipple were peeking around Kelly’s raised arm. She tried to remember when they had posed for that photo.

Kelly selected one of the many VS thong panties, still in the cellophane wrapper, and slipped it on, handing another to Sharon. “Shar,” her friend and lover asked, “What should we do next?” Sharon shrugged.

“You choose, I think these guys will love whatever we do.” Kelly giggled, “They were a little starved for real performance.” She looked around, “I don’t think this is the A-team… guess that’s why we’re here.”

“We’re here so Dave and Shaun can remind me there’s no escape,” Sharon pouted, instantly regretting what she had said. She hugged the younger woman, “I’m glad you’re here or I don’t think I could do this.” Kelly looked up, nipping another kiss at Sharon.

“What is a shirt set?” Sharon asked, then looked around at the scattered dancers lounging in the room.

“Anyone want to tell us what your boss meant when he said a shirt set?”…

***

Sharon reflected when it was done they were spared some of the hassles of the shirt set… Usually, they were told, a dancer would strip down, then hand out tickets as she collected ‘gifts’ from the patrons. The lucky number got to come up on stage and ‘paint’ the girl, front and back, then don a plain white T-shirt and the dancer would press against him one way or another, leaving him a unique souvenir. It seemed the girls could buy the paint and T-shirts from the club for the routine, which was done once or twice a night, took an extra set space, but always brought in more money.

When Sharon and Kelly asked Dave, he had ‘checked’ with Percy and assured them they did not have to buy the paint or the shirts that night. But he had also neglected to tell them EVERYONE was going to get a shirt.

Kelly had selected what Sharon called their ‘dueling pianos’ set, which included just that… pianos playing against one another faster and louder, which the women mirrored by seeming to compete against one another on opposite poles. They switched after circling the edge at the end of the first song, repeating the ‘dares’ and ‘one ups’ through Rocco Delucca’s ‘Colorful,’ which was mercifully short. After collecting once again from the men pressed shoulder to shoulder along the edge, the women started together with another sensual exchange that fired the men up before they separated and moved around the stage, showing themselves off like they did at Snake Eyes, not caring about ‘the law,’ to ‘Porn Star Dancing’ by My Darkest Days. The risk they were taking by ******** themselves never crossed either woman’s mind, and they had collected more money by the end of the set then they had for the more energetic first appearance.

Panting, sweaty from the exertion, the girls waited arm in arm after their set. Percy came up onto the stage at the end, stepping between Kelly and Sharon and lifting their hands, clearly unconcerned that both were topless as he asked if his ‘favorite guests’ hadn’t enjoyed his little Christmas present. The men cheered, a few additional bills tossed onto the stage as Percy continued that it was not often that a potential traveling headline duo visited with the changes in the city’s laws. That comment triggered a spate of hisses and boos, Percy had deftly turned back into cheers by getting the women to spin, assuring them he would always bring quality performers in. A waitress came to the rail, and Percy took the glasses of juice she offered, handing one to each of the women and taking one for himself, toasting the girls, then toasting the crowd, before adding that they had with them a Sexpo award winner and possible AVN award winner performing for them that night. The guys cheered, and Sharon blushed.

Waving his hands where they rested barely above the women’s breasts, Percy explained that to show their appreciation for the men’s support and the support of the other dancers, Kelly and Sharon had arranged for a special shirt set.

Sharon assumed he meant that both she and Kelly would be doing shirts, and laughed as she and Kelly circled the stage edge, still topless, their ‘veils’ tucked under an arm, trading carnival tickets for 5’s and 10’s. It took a minute, because Dave had brought out a box of paper tubes, which he had explained Kelly and Sharon were supposed to hand out with the tickets, but there were only a few dozen men present. Sharon giggled, watching the men jockey for positions at the rail just to get their tickets.

She and Kelly came back and Percy held a bucket out for each to draw a ticket. Then he held the microphone as they read the numbers aloud. The man holding Kelly’s ticket was a distinguished older man, gray at the temples. Sharon giggled, thinking she would never have expected to see him in a strip club. Her ‘working smile’ did not waver as the man with the ticket she had drawn jumped onto the stage, crowing in triumph. He was barely older than Dave or Shaun, wearing what had once been a white wife beater and filthy jeans. He was skinny in an unhealthy way, and seemed consumed by too much energy, with wild brown hair and wilder eyes. She did not have to look twice to think ‘meth,’ enough of the girls at Go’s had pointed them out-- usually shortly before one of the bouncers escorted them out-- that she did not think twice. The young man hugged her awkwardly, then stood to the side, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Well, now that we have our winners,” Percy went on, and the rest of the crowd quieted, some obviously disappointed, but all watching closely, which puzzled Sharon. She turned, to see the DJ and Pink pushing a cart out onto the stage. It held several wide mouth paint bottles from which wooden handles protruded. “I don’t know if the girls should paint each other or if the winners should get that honor…” The guy who had the ticket Sharon had drawn spun and hurried to the cart, returning with a blue and red brush in his hands. “I guess that settles that,” Percy chuckled, then cautioned, “Shoulders to waist at the front, gentlemen, and of course…”

He stepped back, and the smiling men eagerly went to work. Sharon gasped at the first touch of the cold paint, which amused the young man smearing the blue pigment thickly over her breasts. He switched to red for her abdomen, then caught her arm and turned her around. Sharon hesitated, not wanting this stranger to be so close to her when she was naked, but she saw Dave watching and complied without a word. The man switched from the brushes he had used on her chest to the small rollers, painting three stripes down each globe of her ass. “Wait,” he said, and turned her around, reaching up before Sharon knew what he was doing and wiping the paint away from her nipples with his bare fingers. He leered at Sharon at having gotten away with it, then used the edge of a brush to apply yellow paint to both before stepping back.

Percy came back out onto the stage. “I know we’re supposed to have them put the shirts on inside out,” he began, and the crowd booed, “But it’s Christmas, and we’re all friends here, so what say we do it the way the Rocket girls used to?” The room erupted with cheers, and the men took the oversized white T-shirts Percy provided, slipping them on and laying on the floor, face up. “Girls,” Percy gestured, as if Sharon and Kelly should know what to do, “Go ahead and create your Masterpieces.”

Kelly was the first to act. Giggling, she picked her drink off of the tray of paint, and downing it, she straddled the guy and dropped to her knees. Having followed suit with her drink, Sharon giggled too, thinking how much it looked like her friend was about to screw the guy right on stage. TWANG, her clit pulsed at the thought, even though her potential partner was nothing short of revolting. Kelly waited as Sharon mirrored her position over the disheveled young man. Down close to him on the floor, Sharon could tell that he had not bathed in some time. Percy and the crowd counted down from 3 and the women leaned forward, pressing themselves against the shirts and the men underneath them.

Sharon saw Kelly start to wriggle, but when she moved to follow the other woman’s example, the man’s hands caught her waist.

“Don’t,” he whispered, “I don’t want the print smeared. Sharon nodded, settling for letting her hips dance playfully, which the crowd seemed to enjoy… and which from the swelling in his pants, she knew he appreciated, too. Abruptly Percy was between them, reaching down to help the women up.

“Now usually,” other dancers were there to help the men up as Percy addressed the crowd, “We have the ladies to a little bump to put their fanny print on the shirt…” As he spoke, the other dancers carefully helped the men out of their shirts, turning them around, then putting them back on so that back was to their front. “But I was thinking we can do better for our prize winners.” The crowd was quiet, watching expectantly, “Gentlemen, go ahead and get close.” Sharon and Kelly looked around nervously as the men moved close behind them. Sharon’s prize winner caught hold of her waist, and she found herself wondering if he had unzipped… was he about to spear into her there on stage in front of so many strange men? Her body shivered at the intense arousal the thought triggered, even as she was horrified, too. He was hard, she knew, leaning over, bracing her hands on her knees.

Sharon gasped as the young man drove himself against her bottom as if he was going to pile drive her. Her body rocked, but he kept hold of her waist, and then he was grinding against her, the pressure so close to her engorged, clit she could almost get off… She whined without thinking about it when he backed off, not caring that she had seriously wondered what disease he might have to be so painfully skinny. She stood shakily, then leaned against Kelly, the BZ Bitches watching as the other dancers industriously sprayed a fixative over the paint on the shirts while Percy teased the men that they would have to shower before they got home or their wives might wonder what they had been up to.

Pulling a pair of sharpies from his pocket, he told the men to wait, and then after applying the date and his initials to the back of each shit above the women’s ‘fanny prints,’ he had Sharon and Kelly sign their ‘art’ for the winners. Sharon thought that would be the end of it, until she saw the men lining up at each side of the stage, cash in hand. The other dancers set about collecting money and handing out shirts, as Sharon realized they were going to be busy for quite awhile taking care of the patrons… only a few had returned to their seats to enjoy lap dances or to simply watch what was happening on stage.

Unlike the winners, Percy had Sharon and Kelly ‘paint each other’ for the other guests, which the women turned into a spectacle without thinking about it. And while the men got the same full body front treatment, afterwards they were instructed to squat, bend over, or kneel and the women pressed their butt against the shirt back, leaving what looked like oval angel wings at varying heights. After the third or fourth, Sharon had lost count, Percy called a halt, and the girls ‘cleaned each other up’ with hand towels wetted with cold water. They tossed back another drink, and Sharon was glad for the warmth of the alcohol in her stomach as she and Kelly resumed painting each other, then pressing themselves against one man after another.

They had stopped to clean up again three more times before the last guy in the line on each side stepped onto the stage. The women were thoroughly smeared with paint, but nobody was complaining. Somewhere along the way, the guys had started to kiss Sharon as she was wriggling on top of them, and the ever present erections pushing against her bare sex had kept her aroused and unsatisfied. Sharon saw that the last guy had already been up once-- he had paint on his neck above his collar.

“You’ll want to clean that up,” she slurred and giggled, “One wasn’t good enough for you?” She was embarrassed she did not remember him being up before. He smiled, nodding at the other guy, who was also watching as she and Kelly painted each other up.

“Naw, Danny and I decided we wanted one from each of you.” Sharon smiled, pleased that she had not missed being so close to him. “You’re amazing,” the man continued, “You’ve got every guy here wishing he could take you home.”

“Sorry,” she giggled, “I have to go help Santa tonight.” The man just shrugged and Sharon stepped back from Kelly, applying a final curlicue of blue radiating from the brunette’s pierced nipples over her red smeared breasts, “There, I think Danny will have a shirt he can tell stories about.” She giggled, looking at the paint Kelly had applied, to her blue stomach, a yellow arrow pointed straight down, and what looked like letters, but were backwards to either side. “Ready?” The men flopped onto their backs. Sharon paused as she straddled the handsome man. She laughed, “You want it to be unique?” The guy nodded, and instead of straddling his waist, she moved up, throwing her leg over his head, almost pressing her sex against his face before laying down so that her breasts were against his stomach.

The guys around the room cheered as she carefully began to wriggle, not wanting to smear Kelly’s art too much. It wasn’t really a surprise when the guy’s tongue thrust up into her naked sex. She shivered an moaned, pressing her sex against him, pleased he was so adventurous, willing him to get her off. He worked her slit, then focused on her swollen clit, and she threw her head back, climaxing loudly before pushing up and collapsing to the side, still shaking from her release. The guy was smiling, his face liberally smeared with her honey.

“You are such a slut!” Kelly laughed, “Careful or they’ll all want another shirt.” Sharon just bit her lip, then leaned over, kissing the younger woman passionately. Percy told the men he hoped they liked their Christmas presents, ushering the women to the back curtain before pausing to add that he would have to see if they could find some sort of stocking stuffer.

Sharon and Kelly laughed, looking at the smeared paint coating them from neck to knee, with splatters on their face and in Sharon’s hair. Percy pointed out the shower, and the women climbed in together without hesitation, and without real surprise when The other side was open to the club, the guys dividing their time between watching the women clean up and watching the dancers working the stage once again.

“That cost them a fortune,” Kelly giggled, nipples stiffening under Sharon’s skilled touch, “Did you see what those cost?” Sharon shrugged.

“Nope… I thought they were Christmas presents.” Kelly laughed.

“Well, they were, but they had to pay for them… they were shelling out $70 apiece.” Sharon was surprised. She shivered as Kelly’s fingers found her dripping sex, sliding up so that her thumb worked her clit, while inside two fingers skillfully teased.

“Mmmm,” Sharon groaned, kissing the smaller woman, “You are so sexy.”

“You, too…” they were lost in getting one another off under the steam heedless of their audience and ******* of the time until there was a rap on the glass.

“C’mon, ladies,” one of the other employees said through the semi-opaque door, “Percy wants you upstairs.”

“We’re going home,” Sharon called through the door as Kelly shut the water off.

“Take that up with him.” Neither woman thought at all about standing naked and dripping wet before a strange man in the dressing room, taking the plush towels he offered, then leading the women, still drying off, through the dark hallway to a back staircase. The pounding sound of the next dancer’s music made the risers vibrate. They exited into what was going to be the club’s exercise studios, poles affixed at intervals across almost half of the room, with a linoleum floor beneath but not raised from the rest of the room like the stage.

Mirrors lined the walls by the poles, with three big widescreen monitors on the wall, and more even bigger screens on the front wall. There was a cash stand to one side of the customers’ stairway, and plush straight back chairs to the other side, with bins full of boas and other paraphernalia on that wall.

Sharon realized their second dance set was playing on the monitors. Percy and Dave were talking, and when they saw the women, Percy waved them over, their guide going down the opposite stairs as Sharon and Kelly took tall champagne flutes from Percy’s thin fingers.

“That was quite amazing,” he smiled at both women in turn. “And Dave says you hadn’t done a shirt set before?” They shook their heads. “Well you’re both naturals, although you,” he raised an eyebrow at Sharon, “Could get me in trouble if we had not taken special steps tonight.” Sharon shrugged.

“I thought that’s why you wanted us,” she said calmly, “Something a little more special than what your customers usually enjoy.”

“Quite right,” Percy nodded, “Beautiful and smart, too… That’s a dangerous combination, David.” Sharon almost laughed at that, knowing how totally Dave and Shaun had brought her under their will. And at anyone calling Dave ‘David.’ She saw the clock over his shoulder, behind the cash register… It was after 8. She had forgotten all about the time on stage.

“We have to go,” she pointed to the clock, relieved that Kelly was surprised, too.

“In short order,” Percy said, unruffled, and ignoring Sharon’s glare, “You’re under contract to sign autographs, too.” Sharon rolled her eyes, but did not argue. She looked around for a table, like she had seen at bookstore signings. There was only a TV tray set beside one of the plush chairs which itself was up against a pole with a mirror angled in the background.

“OK, but we have to hurry,” Sharon pouted, “We’re both going to just stand here and sign?” she looked down, realizing belatedly, “We should probably go put something on.”

“Nonsense,” Percy snorted, “You’ll have much happier fans this way, I think.” He pointed to the chair, We’ll let them come visit you one at a time. Burton,” the emotionless man who had led them up to the ‘gym’ reappeared, “Will see that you’re treated well.” Kelly nodded, and giggled when Percy put her hand through his arm, leading her back down the stairs where she and Sharon had come up. When Sharon looked back, she saw that Pink had come up, too, and behind her was one of the men, an older heavy balding man, who clutched at his shirt as if it was a prized possession. Sharon downed her champagne, setting it on the counter by the cash register, then moved to sit on the chair, pretending not to notice the man’s lingering stare on her nude body. He paused, when Burton directed him to where Pink was standing.

Dave bustled in through a hidden door behind the counter at that moment, spreading out various boxes and wrapped packages. From her position, Sharon could not see exactly what he had, but the man pored over it for a moment, before selecting what looked like a DVD case. He paid Pink, then turned and approached as another dancer appeared from the top of the stairs, an old Polaroid camera in her hands.

The man paused in front of her, licking his lips as he held out the shirt and a gold sharpie marker. Sharon smiled up at him, feeling sorry at how desperately lonely he seemed.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” she asked, and he nodded, eyes bouncing from her nipples to her eyes and back. She took the shirt from his hand, noticed the slight tremor, and found herself wondering if he was as old as her father would have been if her parents had still been alive. It seemed unfair that he would not have someone to share the holiday with. “I hope the other girls treat you right for Christmas Eve, she said, then smiled at him, “Who should I make it out to?”

“Cozy,” he said, a voice roughened as his fingers by a lifetime smoking. Sharon frowned.

“Koozey, like the drink holder?” He chuckled.

“No… C O Z Y, like the fire.” That took her a moment, and then Sharon laughed. Nodding, she scrawled, ‘To Cozy, Merry Christmas, Love, Sharon,’ across the back shoulder and handed it back. She was surprised when she saw the DVD he handed her, one of the ‘BZ productions’ pieces, showing her in her elf costume on the cover. Trying to hide her horror at the open way he face was printed on the front, she scrawled her name across it, hiding it. Cozy did not seem to mind. She set the marker on the TV tray, puzzled when he stood there. Glad that someone had refilled the flute, she took a swallow of the cold, bubbly liquid.

“How do you want her, Cozy,” the second dancer asked, and Sharon blinked, unsure what was happening. Clearly Cozy was a regular, since the young woman was too far away to have heard their exchange.

“Uhm, I’d like a hug… but I want to be able to… you know, see,” the man blushed. Sharon stood up, not fully understanding.

“Of course I’ll hug you,” she said without thinking, “I mean, so long as you don’t mind that I’m naked and still a little wet.” The man’s eyes bugged, and Sharon realized what she had just said. She giggled, batting her eyes, “Well, you know what I mean.” She curled a leg around the older man’s, putting her arms around him and setting her head against his chest. She blinked, seeing the camera in front of the dancer’s face.

“Raise your right arm,” the younger woman said, and Sharon did without thinking. “Turn your pelvis to the right… open your knee up…” the camera flashed. Cozy inhaled deeply, pulling Sharon close. For a moment Sharon nearly panicked, but Burton cleared his throat and Cozy picked his things off of the TV tray and moved back toward the stairs.

Sharon blinked, seeing another patron turning away from Pink and Dave, his arms heavy with DVDs, when suddenly Cozy was back in front of her.

“I forgot,” he mumbled, holding up the paper tube Kelly and Sharon had passed out while they were giving the men tickets. Sharon’s breath caught, and she remembered the night she had first actually buried her face in Kelly’s sex, eating her out live on stage. The image caught her with her tongue lapping through Kelly’s sex, looking down from over Kelly’s head, her eyes closed, mouth open in pleasure. ‘Fallen Angels’ was printed above and below the picture, along with the Snake Eyes logo.

Numb, Sharon signed the flyer, smiling weakly at Cozy before her new fan once again headed for the stairs. She did not remember any photos being taken while they were dancing… Sure, she had been… focused, but her eyes were open, staring up at Kelly’s reaction, so she should have seen the flash… She shuddered, wondering if their every movement on stage was captured by such high resolution cameras. She knew with sinking certainty it was true, even as she wondered what she would have to give up to protect her ****** this time. Groping blindly for the glass, she emptied it without a pause, readying herself for the next fan.

Some of the men had not gotten T-shirts from her-- Kelly had not realized that Sharon’s were $100, not $70-- but everyone had the flyer, and most purchased a DVD or a CD ROM photo set for her to sign. Several chose the ‘Honorary BZ’ T shirt, emblazoned across the back ‘Size Does Matter’ with the fraternity crest. She found herself writing ‘Thanks for getting me off’ on more than one of those.

The posing was the most humiliating. Guys had pictures taken as they pretended to suck her breasts, as she pretended to suck their jeans covered cock, and had her straddle them, leaning back head and hair down as if she was impaled as they sat on the chair. On had her sit on his lap facing away, and told her to lift her legs to each side, keeping them straight. Just before the girl took the picture, he had whispered, ‘reach down and spread those lips.’ Sharon had done it, blushing at how ******* she was. Of course, the next guy in line had seen that, and she had repeated it in variations for the next three. One guy had her bend over at the waist and stood behind her as if he was riding her from behind, telling her ‘to look sexy’ as the photo was snapped. A couple had her stand behind them as they sat in the chair, resting her breasts on their head or shoulder. One had her stand behind and drape a leg over, so that her crotch was against the back of his head. The next guy liked that, but insisted she put her leg over the other shoulder so he could see all of her in the photo.

And of course, they had questions… Are you really married? Do you have kids? Is your ******** this hot? Does Kelly have sex with your husband? Does your husband know what you do? Doesn’t your husband get you off? Are you a nymphomaniac? Does size really matter? Do you have sex with fans? Do you prefer cock or Kelly? And the backhanded How do you stay in such great shape for being as old as you are? She smiled and shrugged and offered pat answers that the men seemed to accept without hesitation or second thought.

Several of the girls came up, too, and Sharon laughed an without a second thought struck lewd and suggestive poses with the other women, going so far with one as lying back on the faux wood linoleum and having the woman straddle her head, her tongue just touching the stranger’s pouting labia while the girl leaned down, opening her sex with one hand for the Polaroid. Sharon was tempted to take it farther, confident the other stripper would reciprocate, and increasingly aware that she needed to cum. But the next dancer was standing there by that time, so Sharon went on with ‘her job.’

Having seen some of the other photos, when her ‘shirt winner’ came up, he was wearing the shirt, and had Sharon sign it again with the gold marker low on the front, ‘loved your cock, Sharon.’ She signed his flyer ‘loved riding you, Sharon’ and managed to obscure her face on his DVD with his requested, ‘I’m not the same after you, Joel.’ line.

Joel had also paid for three Polaroids. First he had her sit on his lap, legs out, knees bent slightly, spreading her labia with her fingers and pinching her pierced nipple with the other hand. “Put your finger in your cunt,” he told her, then, and Sharon did, aware that his hand had moved around to press lightly on her stomach over her pierced navel. She did, absently working her finger in and out, which emphasized how aroused she had been through all of the autograph session, and without any relief. Joel waited, and she could feel him leering as she masturbated on his lap. Dimly she wondered if he had paid for a video, but was too absorbed in her building pleasure to ask or argue. “Put two fingers in deep, and pull them to the side,” Joel’s rank breath at her ear carried his whisper and Sharon obeyed without a second thought as the second photo was snapped. Her body shuddered, she was so close… “Lick your fingers now,” he demanded, and Sharon did without hesitation. “Put your head back on my shoulder.” She did, groaning around her glistening fingers, her hips bucking up as his hand dropped from where she’d let him leave it on her belly, pressing firmly against her swollen clit, two fingers curling up inside of her. The third photo flashed, and Sharon was tempted to remain there, letting him get her off, but the memory that something was wrong spurred a measure of self-preservation and she hopped off of his lap, his fingers dragging over her ass as he tried without seeming to do so to hold her in place.

“All right,” Burton must have noticed the near fear in Sharon’s expression. Joel pouted but with a final leer, he collected his photos from the girl holding the Polaroid and slunk back down the stairs. “You’re almost done,” Burton said to reassure the wide eyed blonde, “Just this last one.” Sharon nodded, and was pleasantly surprised to see it was the same guy who had gotten the last shirt. He held the shirt up as he approached.

“I guess I shouldn’t have let you do that upside down.” he offered a rueful smile. Sharon laughed, because Kelly had managed to write ‘climb on’ on her belly for the last shirt, which mean the arrow she had drawn was pointed up at his face.

“Well,” she blushed slightly, embarrassed at telling a stranger the truth, “It’s not inaccurate.” The guy smiled, handing her the flyer.

“Glad to hear that… I think I’m gonna wear that shirt ever day,” he shook his head, “That was unbelievable.” Sharon laughed.

“I’m the one who should say that…” she paused, waving the marker over the flyer.

“Oh,” he realized what she was waiting for, “Adam,” he smiled, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Sharon answered, intentionally seductively-- her clit was pulsing almost uncontrollably she was so aroused. She scrawled, ‘Adam, Thanks for helping me lick that pesky itch! Love, Sharon.’ He had purchased the new DVD and a photo CD Rom which she signed as well, before asking if he wanted a Polaroid, too. He nodded.

“I’d be a fool not to.” Sharon stood, looping an arm around Adam’s back and kicking her opposite leg out, knee flexed, to ****** her pussy.

“Put your hand on my breast,” she told him, surprised at how husky her voice was. She giggled when he hesitated, “I won’t bite… unless you ask me,” she teased. When he did, she brought her hand back around, dipping it inside of his jeans before he could react. She spread her sex with the other hand, thumb pressing firmly against her hungry clit. The camera flashed, the motor whirred, and the small white square appeared. “Is there another picture left?” Sharon asked the younger woman who had been taking the pictures. The skinny bottle blonde checked and nodded.

Leaving none of the others time to consider what she was doing, Sharon dropped to her knees, opening Adam’s jeans. “It seems unfair I haven’t taken care of you, too,” she murmured, looking up at him as she then ran her tongue up the underside of his erect cock. “But I can’t really let you have sex with me… sorry hon.” Adam nodded, the look of disbelief on his face making Sharon want to laugh… almost as much as she wanted to cum. She stood fluidly, “I’m going to trust you here,” she kept a hand on his cock, “Pick me up.”

Adam did not hesitate, scooping her up like she was a child. Sharon shivered, amazed at how strong he was. “What do you do?” she asked. “I’m a cop,” he said, then laughed, “Don’t worry, this isn’t prostitution, and I’m not in Vice… this is too great to do anything to stop it,” he assured her. Sharon giggled, “Care to get me off again?” Adam raised an eyebrow. She shrugged, “They may not always be real, but that was… you’ve got a talented tongue, Mr. Adam.” She twisted in his arms, “But I thought you might like a memento of the night, too.” She squirmed, “Catch my hips,” and then he was holding her upside down. She braced her knees on his shoulders, bringing his erection into her mouth. “Mmmm,” she hummed, and his body went rigid, but only for a moment. Then he plunged his tongue into her bare sex. Sharon bobbed her head frantically, sucking hard, tongue laving his shaft, as he quickly built her toward a climax.

“Sideways,” she gasped, releasing him for a moment, “Let the camera see.” She caught his bobbing cock in her mouth again as she moaned at how wonderful his tongue felt flickering against her clit. He turned, and Sharon straightened her legs, letting them fall wide, an upside down split she had mastered for performing with Kelly at Snake Eyes. She heard the whir of the camera, which meant she could stop ‘posing,’ but need overwhelmed reason and she did not slow until her fan gasped and began to flood her mouth with his seed. Swallowing was more difficult since her stomach was over her head, but Sharon had managed larger loads too many times to count. When he stopped licking at her still aroused seam, she caught hold of his waist, and then nimbly pirouetted onto her feet, his saliva and jism wet cock brushing through the back of her hair. She stood up from her crouch, giggling as his flagging erection rubbed down her back to the crack of her ass.

“Sorry,” she half turned, kissing Adam’s cheek, “You were wonderful, but I have to save that for celebrating tonight.” She never considered what she was talking about ‘saving’ or for whom. Adam stammered a thanks, blushing when Sharon repeated the she should be thanking him. “That shirt is exactly right, and don’t let any girl ever tell you otherwise.” He collected the photos from the stripper and left. Sharon wondered if his buddy would believe his story.

She wiped her mouth and collected the towel that had been discarded to the side of the room. Only after the fact was she a little embarrassed about what she had just done, and only then because Burton, Pink, and the skinny young brunette were still there, watching her.

“Well?” she put her hand on her hip, holding to towel in the other hand rather than covering up. Burton shook his head, then pointed, and Sharon turned in time to see Kelly come out of the back stairwell, closely followed by the club owner. From the sheen on Kelly’s forehead, Sharon was sure her friend and lover had recently been having sex. She blinked, then giggled that she was envious Kelly having just been fucked by another stranger. Scooping her never emptying glass of champagne up from the small table, she raised an eyebrow as Kelly passed, receiving a wink in return.

Percy’s office was similar to Go’s, Sharon thought, when the club owner led her through the subtle door in the hall near the women’s dressing room. There was the big walnut desk, although Percy had several monitors on his, unlike Go’s single computer screen. Percy’s overstuffed leather couch was dark brown rather than black like Go’s. And instead of art pieces of women and dancers, Percy’s walls had posters and photos.

She was not surprised when he asked her to sign one of their flyers, along with another that Kelly had already signed. She had come around to his side of the desk to do so, and finished, she leaned against it, wishing she had been able to see just what he had, rather than Kelly. The afternoon’s entertainment with Zeke and his friends was a distant memory, and her body was still clamoring for pleasure.

“You certainly put on a show,” Percy smiled, “I hope Pink and Heather learn from your example.”

“It’s easy if you’re horny enough,” Sharon giggled, surprised she was speaking so honestly, “And the bubbly doesn’t hurt.” Percy laughed.

“Point made… note to self, endless bubbly for the performers, courtesy of Sharon Sinn.”

“That’s not my real name,” Sharon said, then blinked in surprise… there was such a thing as too much honestly.

“I’m quite aware of that,” Percy shook his head, “I suspect you and your young friend are quite the hit wherever you go.”

“My son has the hots for Kelly,” Sharon answered, “And I can’t blame him one bit.” She giggled, “I’ve had way too much of this,” she waved her empty glass, and the club owner caught her hand, taking the empty away, and deftly refilling it from an open bottle to the side of the desk.

“Mmmm, Kelly’s leftovers,” Sharon smiled, eyeing Percy intently, “Did she leave anything else I can have?” The club owner came out of his seat, and Sharon realized with a delighted laugh he had opened his pants while she was signing the flyers. There was no thought of Chris or Shaun or Dave… no worry about what might happen; all that Sharon knew was she was horny and Percy Biggens could take care of her need.

The club owner wasted no time with foreplay, catching her waist with one hand and pulling her over in front of him before he moved against her. Sharon lay back on the cool, unyielding wood, hips perched perfectly at the edge of the table, her dripping sex welcoming the club owner’s first thrust.

“Yes!” she groaned, back arching as she hunched against him, almost falling off of the table before his second harder stroke drove her back into position. She kicked her legs wide, welcoming his thrusts, giggling when she found that the table let her catch each edge with her hands, providing leverage to fuck back. “Yes… yes… God yes!” she urged him on, cumming already, and sure she would get off again on his driving cock.

Panting, amazed at his stamina, Sharon was nevertheless enjoying every thrust when Percy was still hammering into her more than 20 minutes later. She had scissored her ankles behind his ass, spurring him on at first, but by the twelve minute mark, she was holding on for dear life, giggling drunkenly at how amazing he was, wondering if that was why there were girls willing to dance for him on Christmas eve. When he reached down, pressing his thumb against her swollen clit once again, Sharon cried out, spasming visibly, then pressed a hand weakly against his chest.

“God, wait…” she panted, the room seeming to spin, “Too much… God you’re good.” Percy teased in and out with a few half strokes, never releasing the pressure on her clit. Even though she had asked him to wait, the immediate pang of need she felt when he pulled out wiped away her fatigue. He laughed when she tried to pull him back inside of her.

“You are insatiable all right,” he teased, then slapped her right hip. “Turn over… I want to ride you like a filly you are… a prize brood mare.” Sharon was not listening, having started to turn over the moment he had told her to do it. “No, not on the desk,” he said wistfully, “I’m too old to climb up there and work my knees on that hard surface.” Sharon slipped down off of the desk, considering the big couch, which looked so inviting at that moment. It was simply too far away, though… she wanted Percy’s cock back inside of her.

She considered kneeling in front of his chair, but that would put his knees on the floor. Instead, the married white wife bent over one arm, her pert ass bobbing invitingly above her locked knees. Percy stepped up and Sharon let her feet slide apart and back until her sex had dropped to the right level, a point she knew she had found when Biggens thrust into her easily and fully, resuming the easy pace at which he had been fucking her a minute before.

In short order, though, he picked up the pace, reaching forward with one hand, catching Sharon’s hair, and pulling back as if they were reins. Sharon cried out, head snapping up, ass coming back to meet his lunge as she struggled to ease the pain in her scalp. “Ahhhh!” she opened her mouth to protest but all that escaped was a groan of pleasure, for in that moment the experienced club owner had again applied pressure to her engorged clit. The helpless blonde housewife shuddered and twitched beneath him as he hammered into her a few final brutal times before staying buried within her clenching sex, emptying himself. Sharon relaxed her elbows, face dropping onto the cushion of Percy’s desk chair, her ass lewdly extending, still impaled on his softening cock. Still plugged into the impossibly sexy housewife, he opened a desk drawer, retrieving a ‘Rocket’s’ rubber thong, white with red trim, the Rocket’s mascot on the front panel.

“Give me your right foot,” he said, and Sharon complied without a thought, giggling into the cushion as Percy tickled the bottom of her foot before slipping the thong on. He deftly threaded it up her leg as far as he could manage without pulling out. “Your left foot.” As she did, he reluctantly pulled out, and a moment later, Sharon was ass high over the arm of the club owner’s chair, a thong in place, trapping the outflow of their love juices against her baby smooth labia. “Figured you’d better not mess up the upholstery on the trip home,” he taunted her, when she spun around, he ass sitting on the cushion, legs draped sexily over one arm. Sharon just nodded absently, eyes still faraway from the pleasure of their mutual climax.

“So what do you think?” he continued calmly, moving to the wet bar opposite the couch beneath the oversized plasma screen hanging on the wall, “Will you come help teach our classes this summer?” Sharon blinked, surprised at that. Was this what Kelly had meant by ‘internship?’

“Uhm, I…” she shrugged, “If I don’t have work at school or at Snake Eyes… or for the frat.” Percy smiled. It was a hedge, he knew, but he had planted the seed. Having seen what the BZ had made of this housewife, he figured he could be patient… It would be at least the end of the next semester before she would be ‘home’ for more than a weekend. He checked on the console at the wet bar, making sure his private taping of their little tryst had captured to the hard drive. “I’d guess your friend is about to finish her autographs,” he told Sharon, “Why don’t we go collect her so you two can get home.” Sharon almost pouted at that, and he smiled, “You’re always welcome to come dance a set… or just poke your pretty fanny in my office to say ‘hi.’” She smiled at that, both aware of what he was really offering.

“So you liked it, then?” she said, reaching for her clothes, which he had left on the couch before bringing her down to his office. He shook his head.

“I’m not sure yet,” he laughed at her shocked, then quickly angry expression, “I think I’ll have to try you out a time or two more to be sure.” Sharon relaxed and then giggled self-consciously. “I’m still shaky,” she whispered, leaning on Percy as they climbed the stairs to the ‘gym,’ Kelly’s clothes in a ‘Rocket’s duffel Percy had arranged for each of them.

“What’ll I tell my husband?” Sharon asked when he handed her hers at the stop landing. He laughed, amazed she was not more concerned about what was leaking from her cunt into the rubber panties. “Just tell him it was a Christmas party prize and includes pole dancing classes,” he patted her firm ass, “That way I can see you again sooner.” Sharon smiled at that, and Percy wondered if she was not actually playing him instead of the other way around. No matter, he decided, she was an amazing piece of ass; better than Kelly, which was saying something.

Sharon laughed when the stepped out, seeing Kelly matching the pose she had hit too many times during the past hour to count. She had to admit that it looked sexy, including in the reflections from the mirrors which were set at just the right angle behind the seat so that the photos would not show Heather taking the picture. Kelly kissed her last admirer on the cheek, then bounced over to Sharon and Percy, grabbing her bag and turning as if she might bounce down the stairs before she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Giggling, the young freshman bent at the waist, heedless of the watching eyes, and pulled out her clothes, dressing with utter nonchalance. “That was so fun!” she laughed, “I didn’t know there were people who sit at home and watch what we do and…” she blushed, “That is so cool.” Sharon smiled at Kelly’s enthusiasm. She could almost understand how the younger woman could respond that way, but then she wasn’t dreading ever outing with her ******, waiting for the letch to come up and thank Chris for letting his wife be such a slut. She shifted uncomfortably, aware that she had allowed dozens… hundreds more little bits of incriminating evidence be created that night, and only slightly mollified at the tiny likelihood that anyone who had… seen her that night could know or ever meet her husband.

Their chauffer was waiting on a stool when they went back down the sweeping staircase, chatting up one of the dancers.

“Ain’t I a peach, Kel,” he said as the pair walked up. Kelly giggled, “Oh, darlin’,” she drawled, “You cannot believe where this boy can drive you.” Draping an arm around the puffed up young man, Sharon nodded, “She isn’t kidding… He can get you all the way home.” She arched her back, shivering just that right amount, leaving both their driver and the young dancer staring at her in a mix of surprise and desire.

Without waiting, Sharon led Kelly out to the parking lot, ignoring the honking cars that passed them. Five minutes later, they were almost to the highway, headed home.

“Damn that old boy can screw,” Sharon whispered to Kelly once the city lights were behind them, glad her friend had chosen to ride in the back with her.

“He fucked you too?” Kelly seemed shocked, “Was he using Viagra?” Sharon chose not to share anything about her experience with the impotence treatment. “I don’t think so,” she shrugged, “Probably you’d just gotten him mellowed out so he could really lay it on.” Kelly giggled, “Well then who had mellowed him out for me,” she paused, “And what got into you… taking that poor guy there on the dance floor.”

“I don’t know,” Sharon smiled at the memory, “It just seemed like something fun and different to do… And we’d been drinking… I think I’m still tipsy.” Kelly’s laugh proved she was still a little lit. “Besides,” Sharon went on, “You wouldn’t believe what I did during the autograph session.” Kelly snorted.

“Bullshit.”

“No, I’m serious… I did something I’ve never tried before,” Sharon insisted.

“No no no,” Kelly was giggling constantly, “I meant we saw… we were watching you on the plasma TV in his office.” She paused, then pouted, “You mean you didn’t watch me?” It was Sharon’s turn to laugh.

“I would have, sweetie, but he was inside of me before I could say much of anything.”

“So that’s how you had time to clean up,” Kelly said as if that made sense. Sharon started to nod, then shifted, suddenly remembering… She cupped a hand to her crotch, which was dry… But the thong felt… “Oh my God,” she murmured, “I’m sitting here with Percy’s load in my crotch.” “Bullshit!” Kelly laughed, “And you’d better not… You’ll stain Vincent’s upholstery.

“You do that ‘n I’ll take it out of yo’ ass,” Vincent warned, and Sharon was not sure whether he was kidding.

“The damn thong is rubber,” she laughed, “It’s actually not a bad idea, unless you’re going home to your ******…” Sharon wondered if she should just parade into the house, pull the thong down, and show everyone what a slut she had become. She knew what would happen if she did that, and the thought of losing her entire ****** was terrifying.

“It’s OK, Shar,” Kelly said, “I’ll distract them… I can tell the stories about our Christmas party.” Sharon nodded reluctantly, and they spent the rest of the trip home agreeing on just what had happened at the party, and how they had ‘won’ the Rockets’ bags and the pole dancing lessons. Their planning proved unnecessary, as the house was dark when they arrived. Sharon climbed out, expecting Kelly to join her, but the brunette gave her a hug and a short but passionate kiss. “Looks like everyone’s still gone,” she said to Sharon, “You wanna go get a drink with us?” Sharon stepped back, trying to decide whether Kelly wanted her to come along, or if she was hoping to have some one on one time with their driver. She smiled.

“Thanks, but I’m going to take advantage of this to clean up and make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow.” “OK,” Kelly kissed her again, longer, as they were more sure no one was home who might see, “I’ll be home before it’s too late…” she slid into the passenger seat and Vincent put the car into reverse, “I’m looking forward to Christmas with my new ******,” Kelly beamed up at Sharon through the open window. Sharon smiled, “Me too, Kel… Be safe now,” she leaned down, catching Vincent’s eye, “Don’t do something I’ll have to call Shaun and Dave about.” Vincent snorted but he also chose not to argue.

Sharon watched them leave, then turned and went to the keypad to go into the house through the garage, wondering how she had managed not to feel how full and wet her crotch was before they had left the club. She was also embarrassed to admit to herself she was a little disappointed that Trevor and his friends weren’t still visiting. Scolding herself for even imagining she could enjoy a quickie with one or more of them while her ****** was home, Sharon angrily promised herself that would never happen… She had to protect her ******, or all that she’d done would have been a loss.

And still, showering off in the dark master bath, she found herself masturbating, a succession of the men who had offered her real pleasure running through her mind. Thoroughly aroused once again, the rudderless white wife padded through the house naked, putting gifts out under the tree and arranging all of the stockings before she reluctantly slipped into bed, and eventually to fitful sleep.