tattoo/piercing

Original Story: Scipio



Continuation: RogueAlan



Forward: New readers, it would be best to go All the way back to the beginning put down by Scipio. Fans, I apologize for the long wait… I hope you think this is worth it. The next bit should be shorter and I hope to get it written and out quickly, but cannot promise anything, because life gets in the way. Haters, don’t waste your time… or do… it may keep you from flaming some writer who might be adversely affected by your vitriol. Anyone who has read this far and NOW decides to whine that this is impossible or stereotypical or anything else… Really? It’s not real, but hopefully as you’re reading at least it Feels real. I hope the characters are stable and the story flow feels right and the dialogue seems like what you would hear on any campus you might visit today. As ever, fans, thanks for keeping me going. I hope you like the tidbits I dropped your way… it’s right here in this chapter. The outline has three more segments to this chapter, and two more definite chapters before there’s any sign we’ll have to wait for more inspiration. Roby, you’ve done wonders for that, btw. I always appreciate hearing from folks who’ve liked the story. But let’s get on with the sex…



Chapter 15: Mistletoe, Ornaments, Gift Wrap, and the ball



“… and he says, all embarrassed, ‘I thought I was putting it in the right place!’” The women were talking and laughing, sharing stories about the night’s various customers and prior customers they had dealt with, the stories recalled by similar events of the night. The scene would have seemed entirely familiar to anyone who has worked retail and has escaped the floor for the sad and too brief respite of a break room… except that the women were all more or less naked, and the discussion included frankly sexual anecdotes rather than innuendo.



“That big cowboy drove a brand new Escalade and was slipping tens into our G-strings,” Naomi paused, then asked one of the other newer dancers, “How was his private?”



“His privates made it clear why he drives a monster SUV,” the light skinned black girl, Amelia answered, as she settled into one of the hard plastic seats arrayed before the gang vanities, having just returned from the champagne room. Her meaning got a laugh from the other girls, “But I’m not complainin.’ He tipped all right, and wasn’t arrogant or demanding or aggressive.” The other girls nodded more solemnly, recognizing that it might be fun to laugh at the man’s expense, but that he would be a great ‘sugar daddy.’ Go was always pushing them to establish ‘regular customers,’ and an easy lay who paid like that would be a real catch.



“Well that big guy who knows Go isn’t overcompensating,” Glory, another new girl warned them, wincing as she pressed her hand between her legs.



“He packing, then?” Phoebe was checking the Velcro of her costume, ready to take the stage when Fallon was done with her set.



“Honey, I he smiled and asked if I was ready to celebrate ‘hum day’.” The other women groaned, “Then he went to work, and I wondered if I’d have to apply for worker’s comp before he was done.” Everyone laughed at that. Go did not let any of his girls work enough hours to have to pay benefits, and had deftly ended the handful of outbursts Kelly or Sharon had seen where one or more of the girls suggested they ‘deserved’ such by pointing out they were making more than any two women their age were for the time that they did work. To his credit he had never minimized the work they did– the work that was making him rich– and he never stooped to pointing out there would be little public support for strippers trying to unionize. Kelly snorted at that though, guessing even union organizers would hesitate to support that, unless they thought they could supplant Go as strippers’ ultimate pimp.



The last time it had happened, Palomino had stormed off of the stage after the first number, irate at a regular having ‘touched her’ while tucking a $10 into her G string, then demanding that Go provide them with better protection and rambling that he owed them health coverage and retirement contributions, according to ‘her man.’ Go had calmly ripped what little of her costume remained and the bouncers had thrown her naked into the parking lot. Horrified, the girl had scrambled to her feet, unaware of the gravel and abrasions as she tried to hide her nudity while begging Go to let her back in.



He had met her plea with a stone face, only glaring at the other girls who had gathered at the door to watch. Palomino had realized too late she was pushing it, and collapsing in the dusty gravel lot, she had begun to apologize, insisting she had just been mad because her boyfriend had used all of the ‘medications’ she needed to work. Go had shrugged, and one of the bouncers had tossed the hapless girl her purse, along with a five sizes too large mumu on which the Snake Eyes logo was prominent.



Seeing her usual means of manipulating men were not working, Palomino had again changed tactics, scrambling to her feet, leaving her chest bare, breasts thrust proudly at the bouncers and Go, the dress held discreetly over her pelvis and legs as she had defiantly warned Go that ‘her man’ was not going to like what he had done to her. Pausing, Go had sighed, then looked back at the too self-confident woman whose beauty had begun to fade under the press of too many long nights dancing and drugging.



“Girl,” he had rumbled without raising his voice, “You send him right along… We’ll be happy to show him just what you been doin’ to bring home all that money he’s been spending.” Palomino had quailed at that– few of the girls let their boyfriends even consider they did more than dance at Snake Eyes– if the boyfriends had been polled, only three or four of the girls would have been even offering lap dances. “You just learn from this… Get off the dope.” That was the closest Kelly had seen Go approach duplicity, considering most of the girls did the occasional hit of one stimulant or another to get through a long shift. And it was not just ‘occupational use’ as she had heard other girls term those highs… she and the others had seen Palomino using in the dressing room more than once, and more than recreationally– the girl had a habit that was eating her alive. In short, none of the other dancers had been surprised she had not lasted.



“I’ll give you a rec for any of the other clubs. But if you think you ‘deserve’ anything, go on down to that big Occupy Event we’re hearing about in St. Louis, see if they offer you any more equality than you got while you were here.” All of the men had snorted at that, and then had left the shaking, humiliated young stripper as she struggled into the shapeless garment.



Glory shook her head, her long platinum hair fanning expressively, but without impact– the dancers were blind to theatrics, if not to the beauty of their co-workers. Kelly had not decided yet if her decidedly increased interest in women was from the wonderful things Sharon did to her, or the time she had spent with her fellow BZ Sisters, or if– as Dave insisted was true– all women were lesbians at heart, and only tolerated cock as a guarantee of protection. It seemed a strange claim, considering the stable of women the frat maintained, and when she was enjoying a cock it seemed absurd, but watching Glory, Kelly found herself wondering… She blushed as Sharon swept into the room, pausing to look at the others before her eyes settled on her partner. The women smiled, and Kelly’s frequent lover sauntered over, her expression and attitude immediately sparking something inside the younger woman. Glory seemed a pale comparison.



“You waiting for me?” Sharon was slightly out of breath, having just completed her fourth ‘private’ in the champagne room. They had not frequently done as much before becoming the Snake Eyes headliners, and Sharon’s unusual popularity had not gone unnoticed by the other women.



“Why, you going back for more?” Naomi teased from her position near Kelly. Sharon’s eyes flared, and for an instant Kelly saw not another dancer and BZ ‘Sister’ but Dave or one of the other frat members… arrogant, unchallengeable… More and more often her once demure, naïve friend and lover seemed downright aggressively masculine. Naomi quailed slightly at Sharon’s response, as if she, too, worried the older woman might lash out. Instead, Sharon blinked, her body almost visibly shuddering as she took a breath and held it, running a hand down her bare stomach, pressing against the sequined thong covering her femiscaped mons.



“Mmmm,” she managed after her eyes stopped fluttering, “I might just have to do that,” she bit her lower lip, Kelly assumed feigning arousal, “That last brute was hung, but he just couldn’t tire me out.”



“Damn, girl,” Amelia snorted, “You was shoutin’ for him to fuck you harder loud enough my boy picked up the pace.” The women laughed.



“No lie,” Glory sniffed, examining her intricately painted nails, “You could tone it down a bit… my guy thought I should be ‘more vocal’ after hearing you two going at it.” Sharon shrugged, obviously unaffected by any animosities the other women held. She flopped unceremoniously into the seat beside Kelly, looking anything but ladylike, but unquestionably sexy as she examined her face, then body in the mirror. She grimaced.



“If I can’t get a handle on this acne you won’t have to worry,” she complained to no one in particular, “Go won’t let me in the club… God, I look like a leper.” Kelly laughed.



“I though that got better with age.”



“I haven’t ever had acne like this,” Sharon shook her head, “I’ve changed make up, I’m washing my face and chest constantly, even with that ProActive stuff they advertise… nothing is helping… if anything, it’s worse.” Kelly shrugged.



“Well, it’s not costing you popularity,” Phoebe patted both women’s shoulders as she passed, having heard Fallon’s last song start, “Wish me luck.”



“Break a leg,” several of the women chorused in return, Amelia adding, “And a few hearts, too, girl.” As the women resumed their various conversations Kelly glanced at the clock. She never looked for too long– Go was famous for catching girls ‘eyeing the clock’ as he called it, and would pointedly ask if they were bored and needed to work the front room more.



“Phoebe’s probably the last set,” she said, considering it was a week night, and they would be closed at least for drinks and dancing in another 30 minutes. She and Sharon were supposed to be spared having to ‘work longer,’ but the other girls were right– they were supposed to be spending less time in the champagne room, too, and Sharon was busier than ever. “You ready to get out of here?” Sharon considered, which surprised her younger friend. She knew Sharon was not as comfortable servicing so many strange men, and was aware, unlike the others, that the BZ girls were not really dancing purely by choice. But her Honda was in the shop… again, and she had come to work with her friend.



“Don’t tell me you’re considering going out again… Would that be four?” Glory had been eavesdropping.



“Five,” Sharon answered, her voice almost a growl that made the younger woman lean away. Unwilling to let on she had been intimidated, she shook her hair out once again, then rolled her eyes.



“You two have it made, why would you volunteer for more abuse?” Kelly was glad someone else had asked what she was thinking. Since they were doing three sets more than the other girls… and longer sets at that, Go was not pushing them to do any time in the champagne room, and beyond her handful of ‘regulars’ she had found herself having to ‘entertain’ for several weeks. She had laughed at one point to Sharon it really seemed like vacation had just continued after the Thanksgiving break.



Headlining was not easy, to be sure, but it was more fun. The money was better, and they avoided the scut the other dancers did, helping to clean the place. And with the practice time it was definitely better exercise. Anything that reduced the time she spent with strangers sweating and grunting over her for a few minutes was a positive change. Glancing at Sharon, who was shifting regularly in her chair as she touched up her make up, Kelly had the sudden thought that her friend was rubbing herself, almost masturbating right in front of the other girls.



“Well, Glory,” Sharon drawled, batting her eyes as she spoke, “I just sort of find that sex is a wonderful cure to whatever ails ya. Cut loose… beg them to give it to you just the way you want it, and maybe they’ll surprise you.” She stretched languidly, “But I think Kelly and I are ready to call it a night.” She reluctantly, Kelly thought, reached for her Timbuk bag, a gaudy pink and gold bag one mousy chubby white admirer had given the married co-ed after she had paid him a little attention. Kelly had been amazed, considering the guy had not even asked to take her friend back to the champagne room, and a little jealous when what he had insisted– that it was a one of a kind bag– had been proven true with a little work online. The oversized messenger bag was a perfect means to transport the clothes and accessories Sharon would not wear ‘at work.’



Or rather, it would have been big enough. Considering Kelly’s married friend had arrived in just the thin nylon ‘BZ’ jogging shorts, a strappy baby doll with the Snake Eyes logo, and white converse sneakers, it was possible the guys who were paying to watch them dance would have had a better peek in broad daylight. It was yet another change in the formerly devoted housewife Kelly was having trouble understanding… like baiting another dancer without any cause.



Glory wisely chose not to pick up the gauntlet, though she did lift a carefully plucked eyebrow as her gaze settle momentarily on Kelly.



“Well aren’t y’all just ready to throw a hissy,” Fallon drawled from where she had paused in the doorway, watching the scene. “Sheath those claws, pussycats,” she sniffed, moving with a confident grace that cannot be faked and within a handful of seconds managing brief but intimate hugs for all the women in Go’s dressing room. Settling lightly into her own seat adjacent to Glory’s position, she kicked a bare heel up onto the other dancer’s counter, turning the position into an impossible yoga stretch before continuing, her mouth barely visible below the back of her thighs.



“Kelly, are you just going to sit there and let our girls duke it out?” Kelly snorted, confident either Sharon or Glory could clean her clock if she tried to stop them. Glory was all sculpted curves and tight sinew; part of her attitude toward Sharon was that Sharon was looking as muscular, if not moreso.



“If these two go at it, it’ll take Go or Raoul to break them up.”



“Or Geoff,” Naomi pointed out– she was seeing the big bouncer after hours, and felt compelled to stand up for him.



“Naw, you just have to stand your ground,” Fallon insisted, “They both love you, so they’d listen.” Kelly was momentarily dazzled by Fallon’s words… Did Glory really… she giggled at the thought, something that would have been totally foreign just a few months before.



“Well, I’m not one to interfere with my partner when she’s promoting our act,” she managed, certain it sounded lame if not forced. The others laughed, though.



“You’re converting a new legion of fans with your cunt, one at a time?” Glory asked Sharon, her neck imperiously straight. Sharon stretched and turned, the move emphasizing the row of muscles in her lats that had recently become so pronounced. Glory’s preen threatened to become a pout.



“Save your energy, girlfriend,” Fallon suggested to Sharon in a friendly tone, “It’s not even the weekend.”



“It’s not like I really have a choice, is it?” Sharon rolled her eyes, huffing through her nose in frustration, “If Go says jump, all of us jump.”



“But we’re not… Uhm, we’re supposed to be spending more time on stage,” she finished, knowing that sounded lame. But none of the other girls argued, either. Sharon shrugged.



“That’s what he said at first.” Her gaze settled on Kelly, “Why did you say promoting?” The tone was no different, but Kelly could feel the challenge in her friend’s question. And she knew with intense unease the way Phoebe and Glory had felt in the past few minutes.



“Well,” she stammered, “I heard Go say something about that the other day… you were ‘promoting our little act.’ That’s all.” Sharon nodded, and seemed suddenly sad.



“Why are you so popular all of a sudden, anyway?” Naomi asked, “I mean, if it’s the act, Kelly should be shaking her pert ass, too.” Kelly nodded.



“I’ve asked, but Go just shooed me back here.” She did not ad that it had left her feeling more jealous than she wanted to admit, since he had not taken advantage of her, either. She began to pack her bag, sure that Sharon would want to end the conversation and get home, as she had skirted it every other time the other dancers had asked about the obvious change. A wave of bitterness at what was happening beyond her control took voice, “I mean hell, it’s not like I wouldn’t want to be on national TV…” Sharon glared at her.



“What?” Fallon and Glory said in unison.



“You doing some softcore on skinemax?” Naomi asked.



“Nah, she’s looking to be Miss Nude USA… or International… whatever it is,” Amelia suggested.



“That’s all rigged,” Fallon exhaled through her nose, the act suggesting she felt she had been sleighted by that at some point in the past. “You have to have major promoters and a real fan base… and it’s all out west in California, where they turn us into flash in the pans on screen, then move on to the next bus load.” All of the women winced at that characterization.



“I’m serious,” Fallon insisted, “It’s not every girl who puts out for ‘direct to video’ or internet ‘spreads’ that stays on like Jenna. I’d say she’s the exception, not the rule.”



“So why dance?” Naomi asked; she had not become resigned to what a dancer’s life was.



“Well, if I can’t make half what I make for Go, just considering the dancing,” she paused, “And I don’t figure a few cell phone pictures will ruin my life when I start to get old and saggy and have to retire,” she winked at Sharon, “Or maybe I can keep doing this into my 50′s… Sharon’s proving any of us should be able to do this until our kids are about ready to start dancing.” The women laughed at that, including Sharon, although Kelly thought it was forced.



“It wasn’t Cinemax or a strip contest or a nude pageant,” she told them, “Sharon was one of the features at the Sexpo in Melbourne.”



“Get out!” Naomi answered, rocking back in her seat, an almost adoring gaze shifting to Sharon.



“Bullshit,” Glory snorted.



“It’s real,” Naomi started, “I’ve seen it on Spike TV when Geoff is watching…”



“No,” Glory rolled her eyes, “Bullshit our MILF stripper was a feature.”



“Uhm, it’s true,” Kelly answered, then shrugged when Glory glared at her, “I’m not lying, am I?” she turned to Sharon, who’s glare was almost as intense as Glory’s. The older woman turned her glittering expression toward the incredulous young stripper.



“Jealous?” Sharon smiled cruelly, then shrugged, “It really wasn’t anything special… just another evening with my men.”



“The BZ?” Fallon’s tone suggested what she thought of the frat.



“Mm-hmmm,” Sharon paused, eyes flickering half closed and her back arching as she shivered in front of all of the women, “Mmmm, she said after a moment, “Just thinking about it is enough to get me hot.”



“More bullshit,” Glory grumbled, “Save it for the johns.” Kelly was almost unable to take her eyes off of Sharon, though. Her partner was simply incredible. She could not put her finger on what was happening, but every day she seemed more… a vision of Go flashed through her mind, and she snorted at the thought that somehow Sharon was the masculine, controlling figure of the club owner. But even as she discounted it, Kelly had to admit Sharon was suddenly so different, so… virile.

Sharon ran a finger around her pierced nipple, eyes still lidded, head back, as she brought her other hand to her crotch, suggestively pressing against her sex.



“Ungh,” she shuddered again, and every other woman watched in rapt fascination as Sharon undulated without moving, oblivious to everyone around her. Worried, Kelly moved to distract the others as Sharon slid bonelessly into her seat, groaning huskily. She grabbed her ipad from her bag– a gift Dave had provided, along with specific instructions she had been finding increasingly difficult to obey, considering she felt like she was spying on Sharon.



“Here,” she cleared her throat and began running her fingers over the screen. G4… She scrolled through the site as it loaded, found the Header for Sexpo 2010, Melbourne, scrolled through the episodes… “Just check this out,” she triumphantly spun the little tablet for Glory and the others to see as Riley Style began the intro to the next segment, her little girl voice piping from the speaker.



“And now, what we’ve been telling you about… the amateur awards that are scheduled for tonight… I’ve seen some of these girls,” she licked her lips suggestively, “And I’m hoping they make the jump to come play with me. Let’s see what’s happening,” and she spun away from the camera dissolve before it showed her again, at the back of a big auditorium.



“Some of these women may be the big stars of tomorrow,” she said in an unnecessary whisper, “Well, some of them are already stars in their own right…”



A pair of well known porn stars, one brunette and bold, the other a bottle blonde who had made a career of at least playing at being ‘ditzy’ were getting the crowd focused.



“… category is best New Amateur in a series.” the ditzy blonde pouted, “I remember when I was in the running for this award.”



“Did you win?”



“No, silly. I only did one loong movie,” she dragged out the word, then batted her eyes at the camera, “I thought taking a series of big studs was what would get me nominated.” The brunette rolled her eyes.



“Tonight’s nominees have been acting…”



“Or not,” the blonde tittered.



“Or not,” her companion agreed, “In at least three separate productions that have earned at least $100,000. To be nominated, the women must also not have been signed to a studio, and they can’t have been doing it before this year!” the blonde looked at her exasperated friend,



“What?”



“They cannot have been performing in the sex trade before this year.” The crowd laughed at the prompting light.



“Oh, right…” another giggle, “I think all of these gals have been ‘doing it’ well before this year.” the blonde winked again at the camera, then turned to her companion, “Well, Sasha, who’s up for the award?” Sasha Blue opened the page she had been holding.



“Miss Geri Jones,” the big screen behind the pair cut to a clip of a buxom redhead riding on one cock while slurping hungrily at another jutting through a hold in the wall, “Gloryhole Jones, 1 through 4,” the scene cut to the same lithe young woman screaming in ecstasy as a big tattooed stud pounded her ass against a checkered tile floor.



The crowd applauded, the clapping increasing as the scene cut to the woman, seated in the crowd, wearing a shimmering green dress cut to expose the insides of her breasts as well as her navel. Smiling almost shyly, the young starlet tweaked her dress, baring the edge of an areola, which was deftly blurred by the censors.



“You may have seen her get her start in ‘Grads Gone Wild,’ Sasha continued, and another video replaced her image on screen, showing a younger, less sexually polished woman flashing her breasts in a crowded bar for a camera, “Another in the line of discoveries by Larry Rubio.” The cameras dutifully cut to the man who had gotten rich talking drunk coeds on Spring Break to show the country their tits. By means of waving, Rubio lifted his arm to show the chromed handcuffs he wore, linking him to a guard who was his ever present shadow while the convicted tax cheat worked off his debt to Uncle Sam.



“Who’s next?” the blonde chirped. Sasha tilted her head, returning her attention to the page she was holding.



“The star of ‘Hot Pocket Deliveries,’ 1-6, Rose Victoria.” The Latino beauty was shown knocking on the door wearing a thin white T with red sleeves, the front emblazoned with ‘Hot Pocket Deliveries.’ The image immediately cut to the same actress spreading her heavy, clean shaven labia as the ‘homeowner’ slipped into her with a groan of delight. Leaning back, the athletic young woman began to hump herself at the offered cock, shouting ‘Yesss!’ with an accent reminiscent of the ‘Modern Family’ star making it big in Hollywood. The scene cut, and the camera showed her encouraging an anal pummeling before accepting her ‘payment’ from the satisfied customer and sauntering toward her red and white VW Bug, pausing to look back over her shoulder and wink before saying, ‘Just 3 more deliveries to go…’ before the image cut to the same smiling woman where she was seated in the crowd. Rose wore a body hugging white sequin dress that emphasized her impressive cleavage, and set off her flawless mocha complexion. Batting her heavily made up eyes, the beauty blew a kiss at the camera.



“Mmmm,” the blonde sighed, “I think I need to try Hot Pockets again.” Rose smiled prettily and nodded in answer, mouthing ‘any time’ for the camera. “But wait,” the blonde frowned, “Wasn’t she a GGW, too?” On cue the overhead screen showed Rose, pre-augmentation, flashing and shaking her ass at a beach party for a recent Grads Gone Wild production.



“Yep, Larry strikes again,” Sasha paused, “Damn, that man gets around.” When the camera cut to him again, the producer smiled broadly. Rose tried to look appropriately embarrassed, and the crowd pretended the starlet the had just seen humping a ‘stranger’ would be so affected.



“Who’s next, Sasha, another Grads Gone Wild discovery?”



“Well, in fact,” Sasha shook her head, “Maybe we’ll name this the Rubio award next year… Anna Colter!” The screen lit with a passable news desk set, where an impossibly tall blonde was deftly eviscerating a pudgy politician



“… Trying to tell this Audience you have no recollection of visiting the Tabby Cat and paying for lap dances?” there was a movie in a movie cut of the target of her attack drooling over a succession of faceless strippers, “That you were not a regular customer of the Soccer Mom Madam, “Cut to the man rutting into a willing young woman, face obscured by the camera angle, the ‘Madam’ in question peering over his shoulder through the open door of the frilly girly pink painted room, “And yet, you are somehow opposed to insurer coverage of contraception and federal funding for abortion?” The clearly surprised politician was left speechless, blinking as he looked about as if to escape.



“Well I have only one response to that,” the too thin young woman stood, the heavier but shorter man almost cowering away from her. Anna turned, setting one elbow on the new desk that had been behind their ‘interview’ setting, and using the other to flip her miniskirt up, baring her naked ass and sex, “You’ve got some big balls, Senator… Now show me how well you can use them.” Suddenly confident, the ‘Senator’ hurried to accommodate the newswoman’s demand. The screen cut back to the pair on the stage.



“Foxy Hosin’ Zone, 1-3,” the blonde giggled, “I’d say she’s fairly balanced,” the coupling was continuing on the big screen behind the presenters.



“Yes,” Sasha agreed as the screen dissolved, “Miss Colter is unable to join us tonight, but sent along a thanks,” the screen changed to a twitter post, ‘Love that you’re all watching me right now. Hugs and Kisses, A’



“And yes, she’s another Rubio discovery,” the blonde piped up, “Don’t all you men wish you were Larry, just for a day?” She turned to Sasha, “Who’s next?” Sasha again focused on her paper,



“A true school girl MILF, and married to boot, the star of the BZ Bitches 1-5… Sharon Synn.” The scene behind them cut to Sharon, in her Demoness costume, servicing a line of the BZ Brothers. There were hushed murmurs and cheers as she begged the young stud between her legs to fuck her harder, and then urged someone else to take their turn when he finished up and pulled away. The scene cut to a profile of Sharon being approached ‘on the beach,’ the first film shoot she had done in the warehouse, her face turned enough to hide who she was, until it was buried in one of the big stud’s groin while a second began to pound into her easily.



“Mrs. Synn… Yep, you heard me right, Missus, could not be here tonight, as school resumes Monday, but she and her friends at the BZ Frat are able to join us by satellite…”



The screen cut to Sharon, seated between Dave, and Samir, her hands wanking their bare cocks. She was topless, wearing the Demoness mask, and when she saw herself on the television her mouth dropped open in obvious shock. Her hands went right on working though. The crowd laughed.



“Wow,” the blonde giggled, “I think she’s already filming number six.”



“Eight, actually,” Dave said, then let his mouth go slack, feigning greater pleasure than he was actually receiving, “Damn, but you can work a cock, Shar’.” Shocked, she took her hand away from his cock, horrified to see the televised image of her do the same a second later. Dave adjusted himself, aware his cock was impressive to the average man or woman as he continued, “6 and 7 as well as a Greatest Hits eh, Missus,” he paused while the crowd chuckled at the promo sign one of the other brothers had held up behind the coach showing the spelling of their play on words, “Are in the can.”



Horrified at being on live TV, Sharon sat, one hand still working Samir’s cock. She wanted to bolt from the room, and as reason began to urge the more than tipsy white housewife to do just that, Dave lifted his chin– not a motion anyone watching would notice. Bernie stepped up and held a card up over the camera set above the television in front of her. Sharon froze, seeing a picture of herself with Chris. As she opened her mouth to ask what was happening, Dave leaned close, kissing her neck. Her eyes flickered closed automatically as her nerves sang. TWANG! Her clit pulsed and her body undulated, one hand still working Samir’s solid cock.



“If you leave we’ll have to show them you really are married… just play along, little Bitch,” Dave whispered while pretending to kiss her ear. Her eyes focused on her wedding band as her fingers rose and fell on Samir’s deep black shaft. The little voice that had tried to get her to escape was shouting– hundreds… thousands of strangers were watching her… She’d never be able to pretend it wasn’t her! Dave winked, at her,



“The mask has to stay on, so hubby doesn’t find out just how horny his little wife is.” Sharon relaxed slightly, trying to convince her he was right– Chris would not recognize her dressed as she was… doing what she was doing. Her gaze was still captured by the movement of her hand and the sensation of Samir’s erection sliding through her fingers… She realized her free hand was frigging her dripping slit. God, it felt good. The worries, the knowledge that others were watching her faded away. “Her fans will know, but trust me, this married MILF gets NAUGHTY!” Dave offered the camera a thumbs up, “Just catch one of her performances and you’ll be back for more.” Leaning back, leaving it obvious no force was being used, he said, “Damn, you got wonderful hands, but I want that mouth, my sexy little bitch.”



The rational fragment of her mind not hazed by the hours of drugs, booze, and constant sexual activity was still shouting– the blinking light over the TV was real… they could not fake having her name called on a live broadcast from half the world away. But without hesitation, driven as much by her own building need as the demand of the younger man, Sharon dutifully twisted, dipping her head to slurp his swollen cock into her mouth.



She bobbed almost gently a time or two before she felt his hips lift slightly. She automatically took the cue, knowing what he wanted, and began to bob at him more forcefully, taking him to the root and holding herself there every few strokes, sucking at him strongly. She heard the murmurs followed by a building applause as the screen reverted to the stage half way around the world. Turning her head, she realized that even with the two women front and center, a hugely magnified image of her bobbing head was still on display, behind the announcers. She was incredibly embarrassed– how many people were seeing her do that live? And yet she was suddenly so wet she moaned around Dave’s cock, wishing Samir would fuck her…



Kelly and the other dancers had no idea what had led up to her putting on the little show on cable and satellite television… that Sharon had rushed back to her small condo, grabbing the Demoness mask and the accompanying dildo ‘tail’ and then speeding the short distance to the frat, frantic by the time that she arrived that it had been more than the hour and a half Dave had allowed.



She had actually left the Range Rover running, dashing up the steps to see if she had time to park before whatever Dave had planned was starting, and had been amazed to see the house was mostly deserted. Carlyn had been asleep on one of the couches in the main room, heedless of the light, her unpierced left nipple visible above the edge of the BZ Bitch baby doll she was wearing. Bernie, the frat member who had answered the door, had laughed at Sharon’s expression, asking if something was wrong. She had stammered that Dave had made it sound like there was a party or some pressing event that she had needed to rush back to attend. Laughing, had pointed at the quietly snoring younger woman.



“Well, it’s been a rough holiday for your sister, keeping us all satisfied, so maybe Dave wanted you to come take over for her.” He had waved off, Sharon’s suggestion she would park the Rover, “Don’t sweat it, little Bitch, I been wantin’ ta drive that fine ride. And you just get comfortable, I want to do some partying with you.” He had been out the door after offering an lascivious wink that had managed to trigger the inexplicable and almost incapacitating reaction of Sharon’s clit.



She had sagged against the inner doorframe until the sensation eased, and then had gone looking for Dave. The senior frat member had been watching movies in the rec room, and had waved off Sharon’s inquiry as to what was up. It had not been five minutes from finding Dave before the shapely housewife had been seated between the domineering BZ brother and Tom, the big lineman who had proven to be a capable and gentle lover, a big glass of alcohol in hand. Dave had prompted her to share ‘what she had done during the holiday,’ and frightened that he would somehow know if she lied, she had offered an embarrassingly thorough description. He had seemed surprised about her adventure in the hospital, and had been downright unhappy about the way the high school players had used her.



“Tom,” Dave had growled as he got up, deftly refreshing the Solo glass of Mind Eraser that had been given to the hapless housewife, their best BZ Bitch, “When Zeke rings up you get me, no matter what else I’m doing. Unless that boy’s recruiting that other big lineman he isn’t allowed to be freelancing our girls like that.” Tom had nodded soberly– Sharon had been sure he was more upset about the various ways she had been used over the holiday than Dave, but with the heavy fog of reefer smoke filling the room, it was just too hard to focus for her to wonder why.



Sometime later… Sharon had no idea how much time, much less how much she had had to drink, she had acquiesced to Dave’s insistence that she put the mask on, and with less reluctance she has slipped the ‘tail’ into its place jutting from her ass. Sitting with the big dildo inserted was initially uncomfortable, but by then Sharon had been sufficiently aroused at the constant touching and fondling of the BZ who were partying with her, not to mention the frequent less than subtle suggestions of what was going to happen, that she had actually enjoyed the pressure of the thick rubber distending her bottom, a harbinger of the pleasures to come.



She remembered giggling at how slurred her voice was when she had asked Dave why it had been so important that she come home that night, never stopping to consider where it was she considered ‘home.’ Instead of answering, Dave had looked over at Samir, who had told Sharon he wanted her to dance for them.



Giggling, Sharon had stepped onto the low coffee table between the couch and the big flat panel TV, and had started to dance with the ease of the performer she had become. Even without a pole, she had managed a lewd display that had all of the BZ brothers on hand ready to take advantage in just a song or two. When she stepped off to take a break, she had disrobed but for her heels and the costume, and without thinking about it she had dutifully retrieved drinks for the young men, naked, before she had done a second set, teasingly drawing the strands of her ‘tail’ through her bare sex and whipping them against her naked breasts, reveling in the power she had felt over the enraptured frat members.



She had paused, seeing herself on television as she had turned to bounce her ass at the trio seated on the couch, and Samir had quickly told her it was just the ‘Eye’ on the X-Box Kinect, pointing to the elaborate lens situated above the television. Sharon had seen the frat members playing various games with it, and giggled at the way her body as moving on the screen before her, but as much as the expressions of the men behind her, whose eyes were glued to her thrusting bottom. The guys had laughed when Samir had told her the camera was a new addition with HD resolution– which meant nothing to Sharon. Bernie had asked if the young programmer was designing a sex game with Sharon as the main character, and the guys had laughed with Sharon at the joke.



Standing from his seat in the chair to the side, Bernie had dropped his pants, announcing it was time to ‘tip the entertainment.’ Seeing his jutting cock, Sharon had licked her lips– she had been horny for a long time by that point, and was more than ready to feel Bernie inside of her. Stepping close, the younger BZ had spanked Sharon’s naked ass smartly, and the well-conditioned married housewife turned, bending at the waist while deftly sweeping the plume of her ‘tail’ to the side, giving her ‘brother’ easy access.



As a swimmer, Bernie was tall but almost painfully thin, with ropey muscles rather than the bulky strength of Tom and most of the others. His cock was similar… not so thick but of above average, length, even in the frat. And whether it was breath control or training in the water, he was also able to go much longer than most of the other frat members, Sharon remembered from past enjoyable interludes. She was wondering how long it would be comfortable to take him standing on the coffee table with the makeshift tail in place when he had asked Samir if he needed to be wearing any special harness to get the geeky BZ brother the ‘data he needed.’ Sharon had turned to look at the younger frat member in surprise as Bernie had slipped easily into her sex.



“You aren’t… ahhh,” God, it felt good having a big cock thrust into her, she had to admit, “God…” he caught her hips and set an easy but rapid pace, “Aren’t recording this for a game?” Samir had laughed.



“No, but it’s a great idea… Will you be my character, Sharon?” TWANG! Sharon’s clit pulsed and Bernie was just sliding home at that moment, and her attempted agreement was a fervent shout, “Yes!” she had shivered, climaxing visibly, to the shouts and cheers of she and Bernie’s impromptu audience.

True to her memory, Bernie easily got her off repeatedly before she was begging him to let them change positions, which is how she had come to be draped over the back of the couch watching Dave and Tom play Call of Duty, hooting and shouting at others across the region as they played online, devastating all comers. The unblinking hi resolution eye of the ‘Kinetic’ camera– actually a much more expensive unit Samir had piggybacked into the system just for the night’s show– caught it all, Sharon loving the endless screwing of one BZ brother while her other casual lovers played games in the same room. She had dutifully toked off of the blunt being passed around the room, and had even had most of a Mind Eraser through a straw while being thoroughly fucked by the frat’s resident ‘cocks man.’



When Bernie was finally ready to cut loose, he had paused, yanking her ‘tail’ free, then had slipped up, pulsing into her loose, welcoming ass before plunging the dildo back, laughing that he was going to ‘plug her up’ so she’d stay nice and hot for later. After he had padded naked out of the rec room, Dave had told Sharon to go ‘touch up’ and without thinking she had gone to the bathroom to check her make up, mask still on, and then had collected fresh beer for the brothers before Dave had suggested she sit down between he and Samir.



Between rounds he had laughed to the younger frat member that it wasn’t fair that their little Bitch didn’t have a joystick to play with, too. Nodding his agreement, both men had stripped off their jeans, after which Sharon had been left playing with them– not too much, don’t distract me, Bitch, Dave had warned– until Samir had warned them ‘last game.’ When they had turned the television on , Sharon had been in the semi-dark room with the brothers present through the break for nearly 4 hours. It was 3 AM, and she was flying and still horny, never considering it was even live TV when Samir had switched the screen to G4.



The show in which Sharon had found herself performing had started at 6 PM the next day in Australia, so it was end of the Sexpo crowd– a packed house– on hand to enjoy the show she put on, not to mention the tens of thousands of full package subscribers and internet media viewers who watched her wank, then blow Dave live in HD.



“Well, Jess,” Sasha had said, looking back as Sharon went on eagerly gobbling at Dave’s cock, “She seems to enjoy her work.”



“Me, too,” Jess Gem answered, running a hand down her skin tight body suit, “I may go back to school after all.”



“What do you think, Mr. Rubio, would she make a good Grads Gone Wild girl?” The usually too smooth entrepreneur paused, then shook his head in the negative, eliciting scattered hoots and taunts.



“Well, I don’t think she minds… she seems to have found just the right position,” Jess tittered, having watched as Samir moved the still sucking white housewife onto one knee on the couch, her forward leg bracing between the couch and coffee table as he slid his bare tool into her with apparent ease.



“And what a position it is,” Sasha agreed, and for several seconds the pair, along with all of the assembled crowd, watched Sharon being spit roasted, her body twitching in obvious pleasure.



“Uhm… oh,” Sasha saw the stage hand waving frantically, as the image was cut off, “I, uh, I guess we have more nominees.”



“As if it’s necessary,” Jess murmured, still looking at the blank screen, “I think I want to go to summer school.” On television, the contestants present in the theater, whose faces had replaced the image of Sharon being thoroughly fucked, nodded in enthusiastic agreement. The crowd chuckled, men across the expansive theater shifting in their seats as the space in their trousers shrank alarmingly.



“Uhm, who else,” Jess asked, then giggled, “Oh, that’s my line…” The crowd laughed, and the sexual tension that had so quickly pegged in the auditorium eased back. “The next nominee is Alesha Hawkins.” The screen behind lit with the grainy footage of an attractive red head blowing the first in a row of men leaning against the edge of a trampoline in a wooded setting. “This sultry single mom– that’s right, guys, a bonafide MILF,” Jess giggled, “Is the star of the popular ‘Suburban Sprawl’ series, one through eleven.” The screen cut to show Ms. Hawkins head back, mouth open as she welcomed a doggie style screwing from a ersatz pest control agent.



“Another independent, Ms. Hawkins is with us from her home in New Orleans tonight…” The screen dissolved to show the would be starlet, impeccably made up, wearing a naughty latex number that did nothing to hide her nipples despite the pale tint of her areolae.



“Hey, Jess, Sasha,” the woman’s voice was a deliciously honeyed drawl, “I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you.”



“Congratulations on being nominated. You were the most prolific of the nominees tonight, with 32 movies in the last year.” The pretty woman nodded and beamed, “Word is we may see you on a major label next year,” Sasha asked, “I think it’d be wonderful to bring your Sprawl series out west.”



“Well, it may happen,” the red head winked, “Though I don’t think all my ‘friends’ out here want me to leave.” Jess laughed.



“Well, if they come out to visit and you’ll let me, I’ll help entertain… that’s a yummy exterminator!”



“Oh, darlin’, you don’t even know,” Alesha winked, pressing a hand against the camel toe defined by the latex catsuit, “He can really send a girl over the moon.” She smiled mischievously, “Why don’t y’all come down and I’ll introduce you.”



“Mmmm, deal,” Jess licked her lips, “We’ll see if just how many times the South can really can rise again.” Sasha rolled her eyes on cue.



“Well, I’ll let y’all get on with it, but tell that Sharon she should bring her sexy self down here, and experience some true Southern hospitality… Course, I’d love it if she brought some of them big ‘ol boys she’s got to play with.”



“Worried about the competition?”



“Sugar, we women are always worried about other hot women… but I think Miss Synn is busy enough she can share, jus’ like me.” The thin woman stretched languidly, seemingly unconsciously, “And I can always make it up to her… ain’t she just delicious to watch,” she pointed to the laptop she had to one side, “I’m just starting number four… gotta do my research, right?” The crowd dutifully laughed, and the presenters thanked the pert young woman then bade her good-bye.



“So,” Jess said, looking expectantly at Sasha, “Who won?”



“She was supposed to open the envelope,” Sasha told the audience, “But I caught her trying to sneak a peek back stage.” Jess wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at Sasha, before both women laughed. “I’ll open it, you tell everyone, deal?” the self assured young crossover star asked. Her bubbly companion beamed.



“I get to announce that…”



“I haven’t opened the envelope yet,” Sasha pointed out.



“Well, it’d be a crime if they don’t choose Aieee!” The petite blonde squealed as Sasha slapped her rump with a practiced hand. She used black lacquered nails to slice the award envelope open, then handed it to her smaller companion with a flourish. Jess took the envelope,



“And the winner of $5,000, this fancy award,” she held up an oversized gold colored dildo that obligingly flopped from side to side from where it was mounted to the wooden base, “Mmmm, where was I?”



“The prizes,” Sasha prompted.



“Oh right… This wonderful trophy… use it often girls,” she giggled, “A contract with Livid studios, a little fun money…”



“$1500,” Sasha nodded, rolling her eyes at the idea it was ‘fun money’.



“And of course, an expense paid trip to AVN next year…” Jesse slipped the card out with a clumsy attempt at a flourish, and giggled, then focused on the card, “… Sorry Larry, this year’s New Amateur of the year is Missus Sharon Synn!” The crowd cheered as the camera cut back to the rec room in the BZ frat.



Sharon was astraddle Samir, who was grinning broadly as their pet Bitch rode him eagerly. Her head was back, fingers of one hand pinching her pierced nipple as she stabilized herself on his knee with the other, humping up and down as hard and fast as she could. Head back, eyes closed, it was a moment before she realized Dave had cleared his throat– he wanted her attention. Still riding Samir’s cock, she looked to where he was standing beside the television.



“Sharon?” Sasha smiled, “Did we catch you at a bad time?” The crowd laughed.



“Uh, no…” Sharon slowed, but a poke into her ass from Samir’s thumb, hidden by her splayed thighs from the television screen, spurred her on.



“Nope, it doesn’t look like a bad time at all…” Jesse murmured, pressing a hand against her crotch. Sharon had been blissfully unaware of what was happening. “



“How does it feel…” Sasha started to ask.



“God it’s great… Fuck yeah!” Sharon slurred, humping against Samir even harder.



“No… I mean… You know you won?” Sharon frowned, her entire focus on how close she was to getting off, and then she realized she was watching herself again… riding Samir like a wanton slut, face barely concealed by the ‘Demoness’ mask, too little she thought idly to keep anyone from recognizing her. She came to a stop, fully impaled, ignoring Samir’s jab to keep moving. Her eyes moved to Dave, who smiled and held up a card, that read ‘say Thank You.’



“I won…” she blinked, trying to remember what they had talked about… some contest with other women… porn stars. “Thank you,” she managed, “I didn’t… I mean,” she stopped herself from saying she had not entered, seeing the angry glare Dave directed her way. He held up another card, above the camera catching her lewd act, and she obediently read. “I want to than the Sexpo and the nominating committee… It was an honor just to be considered, and to have won…” where the card read ‘pause’ she had almost said the word. Her effort to focus on what she was reading was hampered by the BZ brother still thrust into her sex. At a push from Samir’s hands she had resumed rising and falling on his cock. Her need was still there, the promise of a delicious orgasm almost within reach. Dave had switched the big cue card.



“Maybe you two can come visit and I’ll show you how we really celebrate home cumming,” she blinked, then giggled at the strange spelling, belatedly understanding what she had just said, and pleased that the crowd was still laughing. She arched her back putting on a show automatically, and groaning slightly as she went on reading, “I can’t wait for AVN next year, and if you can’t, check out my new release– just in time for Christmas– or come check me out at Snake Eyes!”



“Damn, she has the right idea,” Jesse murmured, eyes glued to Sharon’s moving body as she began to lose herself again in the coupling with Samir. Sasha seemed more put out at behavior that clearly would not make it onto the G4 broadcast. Of course, every engineer who could was catching the action for whatever they could include on the ‘uncensored’ DVD release that was sure to follow. “Is she nominated for anything else tonight?” the blonde star asked hopefully. Sasha looked to the wing, where a producer consulted his chart, then shook his head.



“Fraid not,” she cleared her throat, “That’s quite a start to the evening’s entertainment,” she paused, “Something tells me we’ll see more of that hottie next year!” The crowd cheered, and Jesse winked at the camera.



“Well, have fun, girl… Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… well, with those studs what wouldn’t I do?” Sharon had managed a weak smile and a nod, but had begun to get off on Samir’s cock, and so could not form the words to say thank you or anything else. The scene cut away as her entire body twitched and spasmed visibly. “I always thought going Greek meant something else,” Jesse pouted, “But that looked like enough fun I may have to check about an on line college… do you suppose the BZ Brothers will do off campus visits?” Sasha rolled her eyes.



“I kinda think if the prospect of sex is involved they’ll go anywhere, right Larry?” The man who had built an empire convincing coeds to flash the camera just smiled knowingly. The unwritten rule among ‘talent scouts’ for the adult industry was not so different from the fictional Fight Club… no one wanted to complain about the tactics the others used– it was a big world, with plenty of new skin for all to profit.



“What’s next, or can we take a break… I may need to visit the little girls’ room,” Jesse’s intent was plain to all.



“Not yet, sorry,” Sasha answered without meaning it. Part of her wished the annoying woman would let her go on alone. A runner had carried a new nominee card and winner’s envelope out to her. She did not need to check the heading, but did, just to be sure, “First we have to announce the winner for the best lesbian ensemble movie.” Jesse was obviously distracted, but managed to hold her end of the choreographed banter as the show continued.



Kelly watched the other dancers as they recognized Sharon had, indeed, won $1500 for the ‘work’ she was doing outside of Go’s. Because any of the women working at Go’s took turns in the champagne room, all were essentially doing what Sharon had been doing (behind a blur bar, thanks to the You Tube net censors), so none was innocent enough to be shocked at the idea. She could see jealousy in some of the girls’ expressions, most notably Glory, who others had pegged as hoping to use Snake Eyes as a Springboard to the bigger dance circuits in Arizona, Nevada, or California.



Fallon patted the older woman’s bare shoulder,



“Congrats, Shar.



“Yeah,” Naomi was breathless, “What are you going to do with the money?” Her eyes were bright as she considered the various ways she could enjoy a $1500 prize. Sharon blinked, surfacing from the continued memory of the weekend– The guys had kept her humping her ass throughout the night and well into Saturday afternoon before she had finally crashed for a brief nap on the same couch she had seen her ‘Sister’ sleeping on when she had arrived. The rest had been brief, because returning students had quickly found her, and the hapless white housewife had found herself ‘entertaining’ a new and rotating group of frat members, horny after days at home, chafing under the watchful eye of parents.



What would have once upon a time left the blonde coed a ragged wreck seemed barely to touch the need she felt, and Dave was not the only one who had noticed how vocal and frankly aggressive their pet wife had become. Even when they didn’t keep her on a steady diet of weed and booze, she was almost a nymphomaniac. At odd times during the action she would snap rigid, breath catching, an occasional moan or whine escaping her throat. He tried not to let on that the behavior worried him when others asked about what had happened to her, assuring them she was just getting in line with being their prize bitch. But he had made a mental note to talk to Shaun about it, as well as some of the brain trust that he and his friend relied on to minimize the inevitable troubles that arose when managing a stable of variously willing young women.



Sharon had passed out taking two and three frat brothers at a time, and had been surprised to wake up later on Monday in her own bed, her skin a maze of dried fluids that betrayed the prior days’ activities. She had showered, but had not had time to do anything but call the clinic before Kelly had called about being picked up for their shift at Snake Eyes. Any thought of actually attending classes had long since disappeared.



The ladies had spent the day getting back in sync, laughing that it should not be so hard after so few days away. They had eagerly shared a bit of time in Go’s office, before they had headed to the dressing room to ‘help the other girls along’ as Go described it. The tacit understanding was that the girls were to tell him anything he asked about the others, and they knew that it was a two way street… Just for that reason the girls like Palomino never lasted long.



Sharon never considered that she and Kelly were already some of the club’s ‘veterans,’ but citing the holiday rush, Go had them working 3 weekdays and all of the weekends. And Sharon’s ‘visitors’ had resumed. When she had called the frat after servicing four entirely unsatisfactory resident advisors the Thursday of her return, her one day ‘off’ from Go’s, Dave had pointedly reminded her she was ‘helping the system’ with finals approaching. She had known better than to argue, even when two more annoyingly eager young men had shown up the next day hours before she was to be on stage at Snake Eyes.



That first weekend ‘back’ she had asked Go for a session in the champagne room after she and Kelly had finished their last set. The big club owner had leered at her and had nodded, ‘Knew it wouldn’t be too long before the itch got too bad.’ The Sharon of less then a year before would have blushed and beaten a hasty retreat. Without thinking about it, she had instead stepped up, bringing her hand up to tickle Go’s big balls through his jeans with her cliqued ceramic nails. ‘If I had the itch, I’d ask you to scratch it,’ she’d purred, and had been delighted when the bar owner had laughed, leading her back to his office to ‘prove it.’ Thoroughly fucked, she had been a bit surprised when he had called her out of the dressing room thirty minutes later, pairing her with a muscular young man ‘just back from the sandbox’ Go had explained.



With the nearby army base, the women were used to ‘treating’ the young men– unattached and otherwise– just back from rotations in the country’s carefully ignored little war. Some were spent so quickly the girls felt bad at whatever the men had spent to visit the champagne room, and most made sure the young troopers got what they had paid for with an enthusiastic ‘encore.’ The occasional soldier treated coupling like another battle, their cock like a primeval club to force the women to submit. When her ‘guest’ proved to be this more aggressive and selfish partner, though Sharon had not sought the help of the club’s bouncers, bucking against him, urging him on even harder and faster, demanding it, cursing the panting vet as he hammered into her. Their rutting had been so violent others nearby had stopped to watch, and when they had collapsed in a moaning heap after a mutual orgasm a bare 4 minutes after he had first pushed inside of her, the others coupling in the bit room had offered an enthusiastic round of applause.



Somehow, that had spurred her on, but her attempt to get the previously almost enraged soldier to give it to her again was unsuccessful… apologizing profusely, the man had beaten a retreat so hasty it had seemed he had been embarrassed, which had left the barely satisfied white housewife puzzled.



She had been more puzzled when Go had handed her a small box the next week before their first set. The club owner had offered no explanation and when she had opened it to find an impressive diamond tennis bracelet she had looked up, her surprise obvious as she stammered a thanks, glancing at Kelly, worried that their boss would offend her lover with so showy a gift and without a companion for the brunette. Go had laughed, ‘That isn’t from me… first rule, remember? Don’t get attached to the help.’



Sharon had stamped her foot at that, ‘We’re more than just the help and we both know it!’ grabbing Kelly’s hand, she had thrust the jewelry into it, ‘We’re also a team, so don’t think you can get between us.’ Laughing, Go had caught both women by the hair, half dragging them into his office, where he had proceeded to nail each in the cunt and ass, alternating every few strokes, easily getting them close to climax without letting either get off.



‘This what you meant?’ he had taunted, ‘Can’t let either of you get off 1st, or the other might pout…’ Biting back the need to cum, Sharon had tried to hump back at the big man to get past his self control, but nearly three decades into making a living off of sin, Go easily kept her movements in control and withdrew whenever his control was threatened. When that ploy had failed, Sharon had reluctantly demanded that he finish Kelly first, but the big man had just laughed, leaving them both hanging as he called Phoebe in, finishing off in the Latina’s talented mouth.

‘Yeah, you both know you’re under my… thumb,’ he had chuckled, pointedly cleaning his spend cockhead off on the other stripper’s pouting lips, ‘I can do whatever I want to you both… or not.’ He had smiled, shrugging after Phoebe left at his gesture, ‘But you’re right, you’re both more than just help now.’ Sharon had felt her smile as wide as the one she had seen lighting Kelly’s face, ‘Just don’t think it means you can git uppity.’ The women had nodded, putting themselves back together, resigned to the maddening sense of need he had left each with . ‘An that trinket’s from the guy you schooled last week, Sharon.’



Sharon had been honestly puzzled, until Kelly laughed, ‘The big soldier… the one that wanted to take a year’s frustrations out on you, remember?’ Even then, it took a moment before she had remembered the show she had put on with a strange soldier in the champagne room. Go was nodding.



‘Yep, that’s the one.’



‘But, why, I mean, it was just sex…’ Kelly had snorted, and Go had stared at her with obvious surprise.



‘Girl, you are something,’ he had shaken his head, ‘That boy had more rage in him than I had seen in any ten men in the last year or two. He came in wanting you to beg for him to stop.’



‘I would’ve,’ Kelly piped up, ‘Every girl here agreed you had to have been putting that lidocaine lube in your snatch.’ Sharon had blushed, but shook her head.



‘He just wanted it rough,’ her blush deepened, ‘It just felt right… it’s what I needed, too.’



‘Well, he realized he was way over the line, but you took it… you showed him up.’ A too small voice in Sharon’s head had asked if that meant she had been over the same line, but had not noticed. ‘He asked me to give this to you.’



‘I can’t!’ Sharon imagined how Chris would react if she wore home such expensive new jewelry, ‘It’s too expensive.’ Go shook his head.



‘You can’t refuse… Boy paid good money for it. He’ll be back to see if you’re wearing it, sure as shit. Don’t get so dramatic,’ he rolled is eyes, then, ‘You did good… Gave the boy just what he needed. That’s what wins you regulars. And regulars pony up like you’re an honest to goodness girlfriend.’ So Sharon had worn the bracelet when she and Kelly were dancing… Had taken to wearing it all of the time; she could admit it was beautiful and it made her feel good that she had so impressed the young man he had wanted to give her such a thank you.



She had not been surprised when the intense young soldier was present and had offered a hesitant wave from his front row position the next Friday night. She had flashed the bracelet, smiled, and mouthed ‘thank you’ before putting on an especially aggressive 69 with Kelly, trying to make sure her beau had a great view. He had been in the same place for all three sets, gently tucking $20 bills into her G string, even when she pouted and reminded him he did not need to be more generous.



But he had not been there to enjoy another screw afterwards. Instead, Sharon had found herself being railed by another stranger. When the man had finished and she had cleaned up, she had caught Raoul by the elbow. The big bouncer was the one watching the Champagne room that night.



‘Where’s my… well, my, uh, my fan?’ Sharon had suddenly found she did not know how to describe the soldier she had expected to be interested in a fuck. Raoul had shrugged, but not because he had not known who she was talking about. He had lifted the mike hanging by his jaw, speaking into it, and after listening for a moment, he had shrugged again.



‘He left after your last set, Shar’, didn’t have a lap dance, didn’t go to the shower. Chet says looks like he was here to watch you, but just to watch. Ya know?’ Sharon had thanked the big bouncer, then had returned to the dressing room where Kelly had been waiting. The younger woman had been puzzled at Sharon’s willing return to the champagne room.



On the way home Sharon had asked what Kelly thought about her admirer’s stand off attitude. Kelly had shrugged, ‘He could be married.’ The idea horrified the married white housewife… He would cheat on his wife like that? Buy another woman expensive jewelry? ‘I don’t think so, though…’ Kelly had continued, ‘No ring, and no enlisted man can afford that sort of ‘thank you’ that you’re wearing there.’ Sharon had nodded, wondering about the soldier, and embarrassed that she did not even know the young man’s name.



He had not been back in the next week, although the crowd rushing to get seats whenever Sharon and Kelly were on stage was obviously getting bigger, and Go had begun asking both women to ‘do specials’ after their sets. Sharon was doing more than her friend, but Kelly wasn’t having the problems finding satisfaction like the older woman.



Sharon had finally asked Go if he could find out what the story was. The big black man had initially worried the soldier was stalking her, following her home or trying to convince her to run off with him. He had seemed puzzled when she explained instead she had not seen him, but had agreed to see what he could find. Sharon was long past surprised that the club kept recordings of the extensive ‘security cameras’ set throughout. With the check of driver’s license or military ID that they made of every patron coming through the door, Go actually needed only to check a couple dates, and then make a call to get the answer.



To Sharon’s surprise the young soldier with whom she had interrupted the champagne room’s usual activities had volunteered to go back to Afghanistan. Go did not have more information and did not offer to try to get more, leaving the lost housewife more confused… what sort of man would spend more than a thousand dollars on jewelry for a stranger, not take advantage of the sex his purchase guaranteed, and in fact would then intentionally put himself in harm’s way? The new worry– that somehow she had pushed the young man to put himself at risk– gave her nightmares that only a pre-bedtime bowl from the never empty supply on her mantle seemed to dampen, and she found herself sleeping even less than before, throwing herself into taking care of the BZ ‘chip holders’ and her work at the club.



“I don’t know,” Sharon answered with a shrug, “Probably get some more costumes or some new tapes for Kelly and I to use.” She had almost answered that she could just give it to the frat. Dave kept insisting she was getting rich, but thinking about the money always reminded her how she had earned it, and that was embarrassing… bad enough to be the frat’s house slut… If she was making money it would mean she was a whore. Sharon barked a laugh at that, ignoring the way the other women rocked back, not having been privy to her inner thoughts.



“We could all go to a weekend in Vegas with that money,” Kelly pointed out.



“As if Go would ever close down for a weekend,” Glory sniffed.



“Fine,” Sharon narrowed her eyes at the haughty younger woman, “The rest of us can go, you can work the runway and the champagne room with the new girls.” Glory considered arguing, Kelly could tell, but she eyed the older woman and wisely thought better of it. Kelly was reminded of the way young men posture and fight… But the professor in her psychology class had been very specific: women did not behave that way socially. Glancing around she could tell that some of the other women had noticed the decidedly masculine attitude the two alpha dancers were putting out. Satisfied she had cowed the younger woman, Sharon shrugged, “I’m just kidding, we need all of Go’s best girls if we were going to do Sin City right.” Glory ducked her head, accepting the compliment.



“It’s a dream, though,” Fallon shrugged, “Go doesn’t have enough new girls to let us all go, even if he was willing to do it.” Kelly shrugged,



“Oh, you never know,” she stopped, aware that all of the dancers were looking at her suspiciously. Including Sharon. She giggled, “I just thought Sharon could fuck him senseless… not let up until he agreed… signed it on a club napkin, you know…” The other girls laughed. Sharon’s smile was lupine.



“Well, girls,” Sharon reluctantly reached for her oversized bag; she did not bother to change out of the clothes she had been wearing, simply tugging a pair of sweats and a hoodie over the Velcro costume,” I have to get some sleep before lunch.” The others laughed. When Kelly pointed out that she was having the service crew clean her costume from that night, Sharon winked at her & then quickly shimmied out of the costume without removing the sweats, “See, she wants me nearly naked before we even get home.”



With that, the pair left, arm in arm. Kelly could still feel herself blushing at Sharon’s exit line.



“They’re going to talk,” she scolded the older woman. Sharon barked a laugh.



“Fuck ‘em,” she declared, then shrugged as she caught Kelly, planting an impressive and not slightly possessive kiss on the smaller woman to the delight of a trio of young men who were similarly leaving the bar. “Fuck them, too,” Sharon huffed, leading the shocked and aroused younger woman by the hand to the Range Rover, “They’ll talk about us anyway, so might as well give them something to talk about we don’t care about.” Kelly just nodded, trying to decipher her friend and lover’s meaning… was Sharon not concerned about the other women talking about them being an item. The thought left her with a pleasant warmth deep inside. She was almost certain Sharon did not mean that she did not care who talked about her sexuality– even with the new, aggressive woman her fellow BZ Bitch had become, Kelly knew Sharon loved her husband and family, so she could not mean it so callously.



Sharon squealed the tires as the big SUV tipped and cut out of the parking lot onto the road. Her driving had changed., too… What was that movie? ‘Drive Angry’ That was a good description of it, Kelly considered, making sure she had her belt on. Twice Sharon had been stopped on the way home from work since Thanksgiving, once getting a warning, the second time arranging for a ‘private visit’ in the champagne room to get out of an impressive ticket. The memory of that made the young co-ed smile… Sharon had left the guy a panting mess– had finished him off in under two minutes to the amusement of several of the employees.



“Shar,” she warned, realizing the humiliated cop could be lurking, waiting his chance to get even, “I don’t wanna get carsick, & I don’t want to pull a train for the whole night shift, after that stunt you pulled the other night, so take it easy?” Sharon offered a challenging smile… a smirk, really, but she did scale it back, and not three blocks later they passed the waiting shadow of a city cop. Kelly giggled when Sharon ducked her head.



“Thanks, babe,” she said, reaching over to expertly dip a lacquer nailed finger tip over the younger woman’s sex. Kelly shivered & groaned, confident they were going to spend another hour or two at Sharon’s apartment as the older woman worked to ‘tire them both out,’ as she had taken to calling it.



The sun was nearly peeking over the horizon when Kelly agreed that staying at Sharon’s was the best idea for the night or what was left of it. The room was heavy with both women’s musk, & the younger woman found herself drifting to sleep, amazed that Sharon was still more than ready to go.



“We need to sleep,” she scolded, pinching Sharon’s pierced nipple for emphasis, “You crazy nymphomaniac.”



“You love it and you know it,” Sharon rolled away, though, to lay panting on the rumpled, damp sheets, the strap on dildo she had brought home after finding it in the dressing room after the holidays still glistening with Kelly’s juices. Kelly shivered at just how masculine her partner looked lying beside her on the bed.



She woke, her hand pressed firmly between her bare legs, and realized with a brief assessment where she was. And that Sharon was not in bed with her.



“Shar?” she lifted her head to find the older blonde was wearing a less than new ‘Snake Eyes’ hoodie and BZ Bitch sweat bottom combination. “Where are you going, it has to be early.”



“It’s almost 10,” Sharon picked up her purse.



“See what I mean? That’s horribly early,” Kelly complained, “We don’t have to be to the tanning beds until after 3.” Go had told both women they should ‘fake bake’ to get uniform and ‘sexy’ tans, and the women had begun leaving for work early enough to hit the local Suntana place. Go had beds but not the new state of the art units that were less prone to causing burns. And when they had tried tanning at Snake Eyes they had learned quickly enough it wasn’t free– patrons could watch them tan, & they were expected to be performing even while in the clamshell beds. The blinking eyes of the various cameras had made the decision easy for Sharon– she knew that Go was selling time to voyeurs who wanted to watch women tanning, and minimizing her exposure to other people– people who might know Chris was still a conscious worry. She was embarrassed at how much she had come to need the sex… and could admit it was a ‘need,’ but she was still determined to protect her marriage.



That was part of the reason she was up when she would have preferred to be snuggled against Kelly, dead to the world. As it was, she had burned most of one of the thick joints that were always in the tin on the mantle down while struggling to get ready despite being dog tired. Sharon was embarrassed to admit to Kelly she had another appointment at the clinic. Being careful not to slip on the ice still scattered along the walk, she headed out to the car, thinking back.



The first week back, she had visited on Wednesday, and had nearly been late to work at Go’s after waiting for fully three hours for just the blood draw, genital swab, and urine collection one of the sour nurses had collected after hearing her story about being drunk and having a stranger take advantage of her. The woman had all but sneered listening to Sharon’s story– she clearly didn’t believe a word of it– worse, she had been outright rude… nasty, whispering ‘prissy slut’ loudly enough Sharon and the other women in the care room had heard her when Sharon had asked about the Gardasil shots.



“Think she a young chicken just because she away at school, shaking her ass…”



True, the women in the waiting area had glared at her, and had whispered to each other, occasionally nodding as if some especially emphatic point had been made to mutual agreement. The handful of men had stared, a couple of the younger men primping and posturing until the women they were with took offense, staring daggers at Sharon as if she had been responsible. Sharon was long used to people whispering in her wake, though, and she ignored it without a second thought.



Having the women who were supposed to be taking care of her behave like she was trash though… that stung. And considering the empathy they had shown to some of the other dregs of society who had been sharing the waiting room with her, Sharon had been just incensed enough to make an issue of it, though afterwards, she had still been shocked she had been so forward.



“You don’t look so dried up that you’d be that bitter,” she had snapped without really thinking about it, and while the other women in the back of the clinic had hidden their faces at their colleague’s impertinent remark, all activity had stopped, every eye fixing on the pair as the painfully skinny older black woman had straightened in surprise before whipping around and thrusting a skeletal finger at Sharon’s chest.



“Don’t sass me, you Jezebel… We all know what you are. Harlot… Homewrecker.” Once upon a time, Sharon would have meekly accepted whatever admonition a stranger would have made. That day, though, it was as if she was burning. She barely felt the ‘Twang’ of arousal so out of place in the clinic, but to which she had become familiar in the past days.



“You listen to me, you self-righteous bitch,” Sharon had swatted the other woman’s hand away, stepping toward her as she continued, “You don’t know me. You don’t know my life. Stop acting like you do, or maybe you’d like me to introduce you to the choices I have to make every day.”



“I seen that fancy truck you pulled up in,” the woman sneered, closing the distance instead of backing away, “You come in here all sexed up, making every man give you an eye even if they with their woman… Disgraceful. You sit out there like you don’t want to touch anything… like you’re better than those other poor folk. So I wonder why you’re even here… It doesn’t look like you’re hurting too much to have to come here in the first place if you don’t like the care.”



“You know shit about me,” Sharon had snarled, the women’s breasts in contact as they shouted at each other, audible in the waiting room, “I didn’t ask to have a black man seduce me, get evidence that could ruin my marriage, and then turn me into his whore,” Sharon’s spittle landed on the suddenly quiet older nurse’s face, but the BZ Bitch did not notice, “I didn’t ask to be tattooed, to be marked so any brother who recognizes it can use me like the slut you think I am… I didn’t ask to have strangers empty themselves into me so I’d have to come here to see if I’ve been infected. I’m here in the car my husband bought me because I love him and I’m terrified I’ll pass some filth onto him; is that enough information for you, you snooping, judgmental bitch!?”



And then Sharon had realized she was almost looming over the smaller woman… No, she had been looming over the cowering figure, fist raised as if she might strike… might hit another human being. Horrified at her behavior, Sharon had collapsed back, hand covering her face as she had begun to sob, horrified anew at having lost control of herself in front of strangers… at what she had just admitted to women who moments before were treating her like white trash, and at having lost control once more as the wracking sobs threatened to overcome her as completely as her anger had.



“Shhh…. Shhh,” the same nurse who had been so openly hostile was the one who had guided Sharon away from the open front desk window and the cluster of suddenly alert and interested patients, back to one of the exam rooms again. And she had not been alone… the other nurse, one of the clerks, and the nurse’s assistant were along, all of them clucking maternally at Sharon, trying to sooth the emotional white woman.



After disappearing for a moment, the head nurse had returned with a Dixie cup, insisting Sharon ‘take it down.’ She had, gasping in surprise at the burn of whiskey. Eyes watering, she had coughed before glaring at the older woman.



“What the hell?” she sputtered, pushing away from the women, clutching at the flimsy hospital style gown she had donned for the testing to be done, “Are you going to take advantage of me, too?!”



“Honey,” the nurse had arched an eyebrow, letting her eye wander over Sharon’s body, which wasn’t adequately hidden be the threadbare garment, “If you think any woman here would touch you when you’re here to see if you’ve got the clap or worse, you aren’t thinking.” And considering that had made Sharon laugh… And laugh… Fresh tears spilled down her face, but it felt good, and seeing the other women were laughing… knowing they were supportive after all, Sharon had found herself dwelling on the strange thought that she felt safe in the clinic.



The nurse had finally shooed the others away, before she had caught Sharon’s hands in her own, apologizing for making assumptions and asking the amazed younger housewife and mother if there was anything she could do. Smiling gratefully, Sharon had shook her head sadly.



“Bettie,” the nurse’s nametag read ‘Bettie Seele’ and to Sharon she felt like a sure friend, “I’ve thought about it… I’ve looked at it every way I can think… If I refuse to… well, if I say no Chris will find out… He’ll be destroyed… he won’t ever be able t forgive me, and I think I’d just wind up back in their control but without a family to go home to.

“But child, you’re going to lose that family sure enough on this path.” Sharon ducked her head.



“I may… or maybe they’ll get tired of me… I’m old, I can’t keep up with these younger women, they’ll want someone better looking.” She sighed, aware that what she was saying was not the whole truth… the other BZ Sisters were not able to keep up with her. Too late she realized that they might have been strategically holding back, but the knowledge was of little use to her by then. She waved a distressed hand at her face and chest, “Look at me, I’m a mess… the stress is giving me worse break outs then I had in high school.” Bettie nodded, rubbing her chin in thought.



“We could put you on Accutane… that’d clear it up.” Sharon shook her head.



“I’ve heard about that… they say it causes irritable bowel syndrome.”



“Poppycock!” the older woman nearly cackled, “That’s like saying Tylenol causes anxiety… I don’t think IBS is really a disease… it’s for people with too much time on their hands and not enough needs doing… or folks who want to escape from doing something.” Sharon nodded, though she was not sure she fully agreed with the nurse’s assessment… Then again, the friends she had who were afflicted were without an exception she could name annoyingly self-absorbed and forever afflicted with some ailment. “The only real worry is you can’t be in the sun,” Bettie continued, and Sharon shrugged in defeat.



“And I have to tan.” Bettie frowned at her as if she was babbling incoherently. Sharon rolled her eyes, “My… uhm, my employer is insisting.” Recognition dawned and Bettie nodded her head.



“See, you got to get away from them. What if you didn’t come back for the next semester of school?” Sharon shook her head.



“They’d just send my husband photos… or videos.. Or DVDs… or websites…” She shivered, “God, it is hopeless.” Bettie patted her shoulder.



“Well, now, you’ve survived this long without your family finding out, right?” Sharon nodded. “And you’ve met some people you can trust… people who will help you no matter what.” Sharon considered… Would Kelly be there for her? Then she realized Bettie meant the people at the clinic. She managed a smile.



“Thank you, Bettie… And Dr. Brian, too.” Bettie seemed shocked.



“He knew ’bout this?!” Sharon blushed but nodded.



“He saw the tattoos when I was here… when I had the IUD placed. He basically tried to get me to stop, like you’re doing… But he wasn’t judgmental either.” She smiled, “Maybe it’s just you two, but you’re right, it’s a start.”



“Well, he’s a good doctor… and a good man if he’d just stop brooding about problems he can’t fix,” Bettie frowned, “He’s serious about protecting your privacy– hadn’t even told me about your… situation, and I thought he told me everything.” Sharon patted the older woman’s hand.



“I’m sorry, but I’ve already been here long enough I may be late to work…” she blushed, “Is it good I just see it as another job?” It had been Bettie’s turn to shrug.



“Wait here,” the gaunt older woman moved quickly to a cart, plucking a tube out after considering the contents of the second drawer she had opened. “This should help with that acne. The instructions are on the tube.” Sharon reached for her wallet, but the nurse caught her hand, “No, Honey, that’s on me. And I am sorry about the way I treated you… I just thought,” she shrugged, “I don’t know what I thought… But it wasn’t very Christian of me.” Sharon had laughed and thanked the woman, relieved when her new friend had suggested she slip out the back door to avoid the patients in the waiting area who had heard the outburst. And at the door, she had clutched Sharon’s hand, holding her back for a moment.



“You keep your head up and protect yourself,” she had said sternly, “And come back next week and we’ll get you that Gardasil shot.”



“It isn’t just for younger women?” Bettie laughed.



“Honey, let’s face it, what you’re doing is for younger women… We’ll see you’re as safe as can be. Just come back next week.”



Sharon had promised to do just that, and she meant to keep her promise, even if an extra week had somehow jumped past. She was not sure why she had not explained to Kelly where she went to get checked out; she had told her friend, partner, and lover that she was going to make sure she was ‘all right’ after the past weekends’ activities, and had previously mentioned that she’d been to a local clinic for care, but for some reason she was hesitant to be specific, and Kelly had not asked; she guessed Kelly had assumed she would use student health. Every time she had come she had wondered why she kept her visits secret, and while she had never been aware of an answer, and was mildly embarrassed at doing it, she had not changed her behavior, either.



Though naïve, Sharon was not stupid. Her first visit to the clinic, parking away from the run down building had left her susceptible to an awful stranger. The second visit, she had parked right in front without thinking twice about it, and the upscale car had drawn the staff’s ire. Looking at it from their perspective, she could not fault them– how many free care patients drove Range Rovers? Of course, from the flashy Lincoln Town Car and the chromed out Escalade parked to the right of the building, she wondered if the ladies’ claim had been merely convenient. Her father had once pointed to a brand new Camaro sitting in the drive of a run down house when she had been learning to drive.



“See that, Sharon,” he had asked, not waiting for an answer, “People find the money to buy what they want, no matter how much they make. Just make sure you want to spend your money on the right things.” He had always had a ready suggestion or homily, and Sharon found herself fighting back tears, wondering what he would say if he saw what she was doing now. Squaring her shoulders, Sharon fiercely assured her ego or id… she wished she had actually attended class some of the time, she could not remember which was which, that he would– she was protecting her family.



The bells on the inside of the wired glass door jangled as she entered, and Sharon hurried to the counter, relieved that the warm acceptance of the staff from the week before had not been a momentary ploy to get rid of the crazy white woman. The woman seated behind the desk, whose nametag read ‘Carol’ smiled at Sharon and held the requisite clipboard out for her.



“Have a seat, honey, and we’ll be right with you.” Sharon nodded and took a seat, puzzled, then relieved when the page on the clipboard was not the ubiquitous medical records form but a suduko puzzle and a note, ‘We’ll get to you soon.’ It was signed ‘Bettie.’ Sharon almost relaxed as she set about trying to complete the number puzzle. She had seen Scott doing them over the summer and had tried, but typically had better ways to occupy her time.



She had been making progress when a commotion to the side drew her attention… As her eyes came up, Sharon told herself it was not so much a commotion as it was the… attention. Sure enough, two young black men seated side by side in the small waiting room were staring at her intently.



The more aggressive, bouncing a knee unconsciously as he stared smiled more widely, elbowing his partner as his smile grew to a leer.



“Tol’ you it was her. Damn, she’s smoking’ hot…” Sharon knew she should look away, return her attention to the puzzle, pretend they weren’t there, or better, that they had embarrassed her. Something sparked inside of her though, and aside from weathering the almost expected ‘Twang’ that accompanied the anger, making her eyes flicker for a moment, she kept her gaze riveted on the pair.



“Naw, man… no way that her,” his buddy shook his head, “Sure, it look like her, but half the time she wearin’ a mask… Could be any blonde woman.” The first of the pair shook his head, or rather, tilted it, reminding her of watching Stevie Wonder on television, but at a much faster tempo.



“Dawg, you starin’ at a grade A porn star and won’t believe it. S’why Myrna won’t give it up, chump.”



“Shit,” the second youth snorted, “You so sure, why you sittin’ there… I hear you, allas telling’ what you’d do if you met her.” Sharon was still staring, idly wondering if they would get up the courage to approach her. The other patients had not seemed to notice, beyond the disapproving glares of a few of the women.



“What ‘chu lookin’ at, bitch?” the first young tough leaned toward her, his voice lower, though a few of the others noticed what he was saying, turning their scowls on him to no evident effect. Sharon knew she should apologize, or avert her eyes… or both. Instead, she rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mock sympathy.



“Just boys,” she pursed her lips and arched her back just enough; smiled as the movement drew both young men’s eyes to her chest. She knew she should quail when the alpha of the pair jerked to his feet at her obvious insult.



“Boys?” he barked a laugh, “You’re her, all right… Sharon, the black cock slut.” Sharon pursed her lips as others in the room gasped in shock. In her peripheral vision she saw Carol push back from the counter, turning to say something down the hall. Sharon could not stop herself from taunting the young man.



“You’ll never know for sure,” she answered in mock sympathy, “Whatever brings you here, anyway, a little sore on your peter?” One of the older men, who had been feigning indifference, nearly choked at that. The younger men glared at him to no real benefit, then the ballsy one took a step toward her, hands out, flashing some sign to emphasize his bravado.



“You’ll be getting an exposure to it, bitch.” Sharon raised an eyebrow, stretching languidly, the movement leaving her right foot clear of the left. “You’ll choke on what I got.” His buddy tried to catch the sleeve of his hoodie.



“C’mon, man, it ain’t even her, I tol’ you.” Sharon pursed her lips, winking at the second young man.



“Oh, but I am,” she purred, licking her lower lip and letting her eyes flicker closed in just the way that enticed men when she was on stage. “But I only entertain men… You’ll just have to play with yourselves and remember you met me.”



“I’ll play with…” the first young man actually caught hold of the mascot sweatshirt Sharon was wearing before she kicked up with all her might. For a moment, the young man seemed unaffected, and then his hand slipped off of her shoulder to clutch at his groin. Knees sagging together, whatever he had been gong to say was a gurgle as he collapsed into the chair sitting at a right angle to Sharon. She smiled wolfishly, reveling in the pleasure at having hurt him. The young man’s friend was frozen in place, eyes wide.”



“Sharon,” Carol called, “We’re ready for you,” and in case any of the other patients chose to protest, “We can’t leave you out here being threatened by other patients.” Sharon stood with as much poise as she could muster, leaning over to kiss the second young man on the cheek.



“Ignore your friend’s advice,” she whispered, “But be yourself and treat Myrna right, and she’ll surprise you.” Switching her hips more suggestively than was necessary, the married white mother could feel the others’ eyes on her as she sauntered to the open doorway to the treatment area. The power she felt at having dominated the young tough… God, it was exhilarating!



She barely restrained a shout, suppressing the urge to smile out of a dim understanding the women in the clinic might misunderstand. Bettie led her to an empty exam room, having swept the syringe encased in a ziplock bag up from the med room’s counter as she passed. At her motion, Sharon shucked the hoodie, belatedly realizing she was bare beneath. The older nurse pursed her lips, then shook her head and swabbed Sharon’s upper arm with an alcohol pad.



“I don’t have many bras,” Sharon managed, knowing it sounded lame. And glad she had not been asked to drop the sweat bottoms.



“Mm-hmm,” Bettie nodded, “Can’t have you dressing proper like, can they.” Sharon smiled gratefully, nodding. The needle stabbed forward into her muscle, but Bettie was good at what she did– Sharon barely felt it. A moment later it was done. “You’ll need a booster. Carol can set an appointment up, but just come in sometime around it and we’ll take care of you.” She smiled at Sharon, then, “Are you all right?” Sharon nodded reflexively, but her eyes fell to the alarming constellation of acne dotting her chest.



“I wish I knew what was causing this.” Bettie shrugged,



“You’re showering enough?” Sharon laughed at that.



“Sorry, Bettie… I wind up showering several times a day.”



“No new detergent, soap, perfume…” Sharon shook her head. “No other drugs or over the counter meds…” Sharon shook her head again. She shrugged,



“Stress?” Bettie clearly was not inclined to agree. She patted Sharon’s bare shoulder.



“Well it’s clearly not put the guys off,” Sharon blushed, but felt unmistakable pride considering that. “Don’t worry,” the matronly nurse handed her a bag with several small oblong boxes inside, “Sorry they’re so small… they’re samples,” she explained, “There’s maybe 30 in there… a tube should do… once at night, once again in the morning over any area that’s affected.” Without thinking Sharon leaned over, hugging the other woman, who was obviously surprised and embarrassed.



“You are wonderful,” Sharon told her, meaning it, “I can’t thank you enough.”



“You want to thank me, you come here. Quit all this… We can explain to your husband what drugs and threats can do.” Sharon shook her head.



“God, I’d love to,” she paused, horrified at the realization part of her had rebelled at her statement, “But I can’t risk it yet… But if it gets too bad…”



“Honey, if it gets worse you’ll be…” Bettie stopped herself. Shook her head. “You just remember what we said… we’re here for you.” Sharon started to hug her again but the nurse was ready, “And put that top on or the other girls will give me no end of hell for hugging you.”



“I can tan with these,” she asked, slipping the hoodie back on. Bettie nodded.



“The Accutane would be better, but this should help… and keep trying to think of what might have changed to cause it.” Sharon nodded, but she had been wracking her mind since the first little pimples had appeared. And she could not bring herself to ask if pot would cause it.



She paused at the desk, and Carol handed her a card with an appointment date written on it. Sharon was relieved that it did not have anything to suggest where it had come from. She wondered why she wanted to keep it secret but did not dwell on it. Thanking the women, she ducked out the side door she had used before. She made it to the car without anyone intercepting her, and decided to stop for more yogurt, juice, granola bars, and of course, Asti singles, beer, and condoms before going home.



“Damn,” Dave frowned at the GPS read out he had just retrieved from the unit in Sharon’s car. They knew she had gotten birth control at the clinic, thanks to Kelly, but based on her stop, the clinic where she was getting the contraceptives was the last place they would want her getting medical care. One of the other brothers working in the frat’s impressive IT suite looked over at him. Dave waved a dismissive hand, while using the other to dial Shaun.



“You going to break my balls about ‘winning our bet’ again?” his friend asked instead of saying ‘hello.’



“Hey, you lost. She won.”



“No, you bet she would be there and would win… Winning on a remote television feed doesn’t count.”



“That’s a bullshit technicality, and you know it,” Dave rolled his eyes, “Our prize bitch won head to head against real porn stars at Sexpo. Period.”



“So that’s why you’re calling? Again?” Shaun had just laughed the last time Dave had ‘reminded’ the other frat member he’d won their bet. It had galled his less refined friend to hear Sharon had been the winner, rather than Dave.



“Naw,” Dave waited, knowing Shaun would wonder what was up, “I thought you’d want to know where Shar’ is getting her pills.”



“Oh?” Shaun recognized immediately it could not be good if Dave was calling. And he could eliminate the potential problems, based upon the limited issues the frat faced… there was little the Frat did not have some influence over.



“Dr. B’s.”



“Shit.” Shaun paused, “Shit!” The man was one of the few who had walked away in outrage over what he had called the fraternity’s ‘excesses.’ Which to the other members meant he wanted to despoil all the pretty coeds himself, rather than share, considering he’d been a major horn dog when he’d been a football star a decade before. The man had made a noisy exit within the fraternity at least, and had seemed more angry no one listened to his holier than thou arguments than the fact that he had been totally isolated after his ‘noble’ exit… ‘Who cares if it’s one brother banging a dozen chicks or a dozen sharing one,’ Shaun remembered one of the national officers laughing at a meeting he had attended in Fort Lauderdale as a Sophomore. By then the doctor’s departure was ancient history, but BZ was missing nothing on the biker gangs… they did not forget traitors. And considering the… more coercive methods that the Frat was using, Shaun could imagine some ways the good doctor could be a thorn in their side. “Well, that little bitch,” he murmured, “Thinkin’ she can step out on us…”



“Naw, she ain’t steppin’ out,” Dave misunderstood what Shaun was thinking.



“Oh, I know she ain’t sharing it around… you and Go got her busy enough she can’t be doing more than sleeping when she ain’t shaking that married ass. But she might give old Dr. B some ammunition he could use.”



“Shit, none of the girls are still on the helpers,” Dave was quick on the uptake, “And most aren’t even aware why they started acting the slut… sure, there’s the pictures, but most never need that; they just think it’s the booze and the smoke, and buy into the old saying…” Shaun did not bother repeating the tired pick up line. It was true for some women, he’d seen, but he had also listened in on women’s studies topics where women had insisted they had better sex– meaning they got off or got off better– with average or even small cocks. He snorted at that, but admitted what Dave was arguing was true enough. And Sharon had to know they’d ruin her life if she helped the good doctor to make an issue to the school. Besides, they had the most likely ally in their stable now, also thanks to Sharon. Shaun wondered if they could use their best BZ Bitch to bring the good doctor down if he tried to cause a problem… surely the man had to have imagined slipping it to the hot white wife… “So what do I do? Tell her to bring her tight ass back to school health?”



“Naw… we know where she’s going… we can keep an eye on it… maybe having her there will be a good thing,” Shaun did not elaborate, guessing Dave would be able to fill in the blanks. “That’s all?”



“Well, it seemed like something that shouldn’t wait.”



“Damn straight, I’m glad you called. You about done with the monitor shift?” All of the members took turns watching the innumerable feeds for trouble with their brothers, or issues with teachers, administrators, or their stable of girls. There were Federal agencies that would have been green with envy at the total coverage the frat had spooled together not just of the campus, but the city and other ‘points of interest’ as their tech wizards would say with a juvenile laugh.



“Well have you decided yet about my suggestion?” Dave had pushed hard, but then again, he had set their prize filly up and she’d won against true thoroughbreds.



“When is it?”



“January, so it won’t mess up your holiday plans at all,” Dave insisted eagerly, “She can do it without any problem… Go already cleared it.”

“You’re going behind my back to Go?” Shaun was a little pissed at that… Sharon was his.



“No, no, no… I checked, that’s all. Go said he’s got so many coming in to see her based on the Sexpo he offered to pay for her flight there and back. I guess he’s got guys calling and booking ahead right up until he’s going to have to let her go home for break.” Dave waited while Shaun considered that. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he pushed, “C’mon, that was the bet… if I made her a hit at Sexpo we’d take her to the AVN bash… imagine the skilled fringe we can sample, man!”



“A’ight,” Shaun had already come to the same conclusion. He had also realized it was likely just a matter of time before their best bitch was a wreck… the bugs running on her family’s computers had uncovered a little porn habit her hubby enjoyed. Shaun was a little surprised hubby hadn’t realized already that he’d sat in his den watching his wife put out to frat members and pros alike. He hadn’t paid for anything yet… understandable considering the flood of fresh meat hitting the net every month. But at some point he might figure it out, and they should be ready with ‘alternatives’ for Sharon if things went south. “She’s keeping up with the increased demand?” Dave laughed.



“Go insists she’s a natural; keeps asking when she was a working girl before marriage, because she leaves them panting and begs for more. Hell, he warned me she’d almost worn him out the last time he decided to ‘teach her a lesson.’ Shaun chewed the inside of his lip at that. The woman they’d ensnared was obviously not a pro, which made him worry.



“Well maybe we should visit our favorite BZ Bitch at work tonight, get us a little taste.”



“Can’t… Go’s got her booked solid.. He’s already asked if we’ll let her work another day each week until break, I’d almost forgotten to tell you.” Shaun frowned again… sometimes Dave forgot it wasn’t just about he and his dick. Shaun considered it a sacred trust of the frat, and his friend’s decisions made him glad he was grooming other younger members to take over when he finally decided he was ready to go out in the real world.



“Well shit, she’s popular here, too. We’ve got TA’s to get off and a couple professors. Plus the winter bash.”



“She isn’t working the House parties anymore.”



“She isn’t working the regular parties,” Shaun corrected, “But we’ll get a great release from this one to help sell her in Vegas.” The way Dave chuckled, Shaun knew he needn’t say more. But he also made a decision… waiting on this was too risky. He unlocked the cell– having it lock in a minute was a hassle but it was worth the security– and scrolled to one of the cryptic nicknames in his contacts.



Like at DOD secured phone, the handset bounced the signal through a prearranged security scrambler another BZ alum had piggybacked onto a Verizon satellite, and the call came back down to a different number… the right person, but protecting the Frat was job one.



“Yeah,” Shaun smiled. Samir might still be overawed at the Frat’s ability to get hot women, and so his ability to score with said hotties, but he was learning fast.



“When you gonna get more screen time?” Samir considered.



“Scheduled this weekend, why, you need something special?” Shaun bobbed his head, pleased at his brother’s ready to go attitude.



“Sorry, man, but we may have a problem with our golden goose.” Samir did not speak, “I need you to sit an extra shift or two… tell me if she’s doing anything unusual.”



“You wanna give me a clue?” Shaun bit back a smart ass response. It was a valid question.



“Sorry, but if I knew you wouldn’t have to keep an eye on her… Am I hurtin’ your action?” Samir laughed.



“No, bra,” Shaun guessed it was the crime tv show set in Hawaii that had increased that little familiarity in the Frat language, “the BZ Bitches ARE my action.”



“Well that’s why we have them around,” Shaun pointed out, then added, “Shout soonest if something strange happens. Otherwise I’ll check in tomorrow.” He resisted asking the freshman to not say anything to Dave or to ‘anyone’ in general… that could backfire. Killing the call, Shaun considered whether he needed to reconsider the holiday plans… or push up their schedule. Smiling, he chose to let it ride; it had been the best semester they had ever had… Theirs was on the national radar, and he had not gotten there by playing it safe.



***MISTLETOE



Sharon tried to remember what day it was, much less what time. She had barely gotten any down time from the moment Kelly had called her Thursday while she had been getting groceries. Any thought of some fruits and veggies or a more substantial meal than the yogurt and granola bars she had grabbed along with the ‘requisites’ had gone out the window… Kelly had informed her Go needed them working Thursday from opening to closing, since they ‘wouldn’t be able to work’ on Friday.



Any curiosity about what that had meant was lost as her week had degenerated into a seemingly unending sexual performance. She and Kelly had arrived at Snake Eyes before noon. Before they had ever taken a turn on stage, Sharon had found herself in the champagne room, entertaining. It was irregular, as was the clipped almost guttural accent of the man rutting into her, but as she arched her back, urging him on, demanding that he ‘fuck her harder’ she realized it was not an accent that she had not heard recently.



When she had finished getting her apparent admirer off, she had unselfconsciously wandered naked into the common changing room. While touching up her make up, she had asked Amelia, who was changing after finishing a set about the strange accent.



“Dunno,” the painfully thin young black woman had shrugged, “There’ve been a lot of Aussies this month.” Sharon nodded– she had assumed it was related to a joint operation at the nearby army base, and that accent wasn’t as peculiar. “Oh,” Amelia snorted, after a moment, “You mean that Afrikaner? He wouldn’t give me the time of day, but most of them are racist bastards,” she shrugged, “Guess he liked slumming coming here… I’m kind of surprised Go didn’t have someone beat his prejudiced ass.”



“Afrikaner?” Amelia looked at Sharon in surprise, “Yeah… white from South Africa.”



“Oh,” Sharon remembered the battles over aparteid, when she had been newly married. “Why would someone like that come here?” Amelia shrugged.



“Maybe he wanted to try to win you away from the dark side.” Both women had laughed at that.



“Well, if that was his goal, let’s just say he left me wanting.” Amelia giggled at that. Sharon smiled, selecting another thong and bra set, which she had barely donned before being recalled to the Champagne room and another ‘personal dance.’ She had learned in the prior weeks to leave the bag with the dwindling supply of the lotion in the drawer at her station, and deftly applied it to her clit after every second or third ‘guest.’ The day was busier than past night had been, and Sharon had finished four trips to the champagne room before she and Kelly had danced a set. Afterwards, when she had started to head onto the floor with Kelly, who’d been ordered to ‘circulate’ by one of Go’s runners, she had been pointedly informed she was ‘already booked,’ the smarmy young runner pointing back toward the blue lit room.



It had been an almost uninterrupted string of eager partners, most of whom said little but stared at her as if she was some rare zoo exhibit. More than one mumbled something about ‘not believing it was happening,’ and several had paused after finishing, asking for an autograph on a DVD or magazine. Though horrified to see pictures of herself in glossy print, Sharon had managed to sign without letting on she was surprised, and had managed to calm herself, after seeing the pictures were all with the mask on or at such an angle her face was not visible.



There had been an increasing number of Caucasians visiting her in the blue room, but until Thursday night, after the discussion with Amelia, Sharon had not really thought about it. Looking around while making the right noises and moving just so, she had realized it as not all of the girls serving more white customers… just her. And with the sudden attitude change and the requests for her to sign things, she had realized before the end of their shift on Thursday what was happening… she had new fans based on her appearing on television.



She had wondered just who could have so much money they would fly to the middle of the country… many obviously from other countries, just to have sex with her. And she had been frustrated… many didn’t last as long as her husband, and few were larger than Chris. Panting after she had gotten him off close to midnight, one balding, obese man wiped at his brow, beaming at her.



“Thank you so much,” he enthused, “You’re amazing… I never thought I’d… Well, I mean… but then I saw you… & I read how you do ‘fuck a fan.’ I just can’t thank you enough.” Sharon had told the obviously timid man he’d ‘been amazing’ and had thanked him before apologizing that she needed to go freshen up before someone else wanted some attention. Instead of becoming angry or wondering if he had left her wanting, the man had bobbed his head, backing away from the seat where they had been rutting, forgetting to zip up until the room’s glowering bouncer had pointed it out.



Head spinning, Sharon had rushed down the opposing hall, past the dressing room, to Go’s office. He had not been in when she burst in, so Sharon had stepped up, scanning through the mirrored one way glass until she had seen him, handling the crowd, which that night included keeping the small party of obvious outsiders that were secluded near one end of the long stage, as well as the frowning nearby regulars happy.



She had paused long enough to don a fresh bra and panty set, as well as a flimsy shawl before rushing past the waiting runner and out onto the floor.



Her appearance had triggered whistles and cheers from everyone, but especially the knot of anxious white men who had been ogling Glory’s routine. Ignoring them all, she had stormed up to Go, barely keeping her voice down as she caught the bolo tie he had been wearing, tugging ineffectually in an effort to get his ear closer.



“I Don’t Fuck Fans,” she had growled. Go had calmly taken the short fat black cigar from his lips, leering at her.



“Really? Seems to me you’ve been doing that here since day one.” Sharon blushed but did not back down.



“You know what I mean. This is… I can’t… You don’t seriously expect me to… They’re not even any good at it,” she had seethed, only the last comment getting the big club owner moving. Swatting her bare hip sharply, he had turned to the staring crowd of her ‘fans,’



“Sorry, gents, the little filly wants some special attention from ol’ Go,” he had winked, moving them both toward the hallway, “I’ll try to leave enough for you to enjoy. Hang on to those numbers.” The friendly façade was gone before the opaque curtain hiding the darkened hallway had stopped closing behind them; Go’s enormous hand caught the back of Sharon’s neck and the club owner casually tossed the woman less than half his size against the wall, stepping forward as he did, “You dumb cunt, you think you can…” Sharon’s response was not what he expected from the helplessly trapped white wife. It was not what Sharon would have ever considered doing. Spinning back, amplifying the bounce from the wall, she lashed out, clawing at Go’s eyes while the same side knee came up impossibly fast. Go’s head snapped back, Sharon’s painted nails tangling in his beard, pulling several hairs and causing a lingering sting that was almost eclipsed as her knee hammered against his inside thigh. The force of her counter was spent, so that there was no real pain when she shifted higher against his crotch.



“Bastard!” she hissed, starting a second swing with her free hand, Go having caught hold of the right, the fingers still tangled in her beard. Though accustomed to violence, and comfortable with it, the club owner was also wise enough not to react like the ego driven monkey mind that seems to rule all men from 15 to 25 was urging. Taking a deep breath, he spun the irate woman away from him so she could not try to land a second knee. He dropped his arm, effectively clothes lining her with her own arm, and frog marched her to his office, glad that he could get there without going past the dressing room.



Sharon kicked and scratched the entire way, her grunts and aborted cries for help muted when Go lifted her arm, pinning the crook of her elbow over her mouth. He didn’t release her, even after he’d gotten safely into the office, throwing the seldom used bolt on the sound insulated door. The married white wife went on struggling for nearly three minutes before she began to calm. By then, Go was smiling in amusement at the spirit she had shown. Sharon was without a doubt full of surprises.



As soon as he sensed her tantrum was done… or at least that she was out of energy, the big club owner spun her away from him and into the heavy leather chair positioned in front of his desk. Careful that he knew where her knees were, in case she had been shamming, he advanced, using his own knee to pin her just short of painfully in the seat. He held himself there, glaring down until the helpless dancer looked up at him. Even then, it was fury and defiance he saw, not fear or deference.



“Are you going to do something stupid again?” he asked, conversationally. After several short breaths, Sharon managed to shake her head. “So I can let go and sit down and we’ll talk.” Not a question. Sharon just glared. He let go, circled his desk, then sat, leaning back expressively, emphasizing he was not threatened or a threat. “Care to tell me what that was about?”



“You threw me into the wall, asshole!” Sharon’s voice was flat. Go pursed his lips… velvet or steel?



“You were putting my business at risk,” he answered with the same neutral tone. “I can’t have that from anyone… Especially when you’re the one making the natives restless.”



“Bullshit,” she paused, then shook her head, “What are you talking about?”



“You’re the one trying to be the next Sasha Blue,” he answered, “Get that nice award for being the best new piece of ass on tape, and suddenly you’ve got a booming fan business.”



“So I gathered,” Sharon said sourly, “Like I asked for any of it… I hadn’t even realized until tonight what was going on.” Go snorted derisively, “I’m serious,” she growled, “The last asshole mentioned my fucking fans… I don’t fuck fans.”



“Well, that would be debatable,” Go shrugged, “I can assure you the guys who enjoy you are your fans.” He shook his head in growing amusement, “So until that last fat turd you hadn’t noticed you’ve been more… popular? What about the Aussies?”



“Who goes on vacation to fuck strange women?” Sharon’s naivete was obvious, even after months working her ass as a BZ Bitch. “I just thought it was some joint operation thing at the base… You know, like those Russians who were in around Halloween.” Go nodded– if she was lying she was a world class sociopath, which meant she was not lying.



“So you want me to tell your… chaperones that you don’t want to do what they expect you to do?” Sharon paled slightly and shook her head ‘no.’ “I didn’t think so. There’s lots of guys clamoring to get inside of you,” Sharon shuddered, “I’d be a fool not to take advantage of it. And I’m no fool.” He had dropped his feet at the time and leaned over his desk, “Which brings us to that little outburst when we went into the back,” he stared at Sharon, hard. She did not quail as he had expected. “That cannot happen again. I won’t put up with it. You remember Palomino?” Sharon bit her lip but nodded after a beat. “Good. There isn’t anyone who can put this business at risk without there being consequences. If it means dragging you home and fucking you on the island in your kitchen… making you beg me for it while hubby watches, that’s what I’ll do. Do you understand me?” Sharon’s face was ashen. She swallowed and nodded. “Good. I’d hate to lose a spitfire like you… You’re going to go far little Mrs. Synn.” Sharon opted not to argue, merely nodding, which Go took as a good sign.



“Besides,” he could not keep from teasing her, “What was your last straw out there? That they do not get you off?” Sharon blushed, but managed a nod. “Well, that’s a lesson for you, too… And it’s news to me, ’cause you’ve been convincing everyone of them they’re the first stud to ever make you cum. So you’re doing good. I’ll see if we can’t find someone to volunteer to make sure you cum before you go home, all right?” Without really thinking about it, Sharon had nodded. She was aware suddenly then that she was almost impossibly horny… If Go just pushed it inside of her she’d…



“You could take care of me right now,” she heard herself say, fingers playing with her aroused nipples through the thin fabric of the bra. He chuckled.



“Oh, that’s tempting, little one, but there’s a table full of guys you have to get off before our regulars take offense at the visiting team. Now go out there and shake that fine ass.” After she had obediently left his office, Go opened an unlocked drawer in his desk, and carefully retrieved the small bag of tablets that was kept carefully hidden behind a false back. He separated a pair, called for a margarita rocks, and after crushing the tabs carefully stirred them into the drink before carrying it down and setting it at Sharon’s station with a note on which he had scrawled, ‘To one of my favorite girls, keep up the good work’ and was signed with his heavy ‘Go.’



Sharon had returned from getting the next visiting fan off a few minutes later. Having had nothing to eat, she wrote the spins she got almost immediately off as being just the tequila. Though staying focused to put on her best performance was more difficult with the next mousy fan, she was delighted to find that it felt good as he thrust into her… in fact, by the time he stiffened, finishing up in the requisite condom, she was on the edge of her own orgasm, and managed a small climax by pressing her sex almost savagely against the hapless man’s pubic bone. The man was blushing fiercely by the time her shudders had subsided, and seemed delighted at the experience, hastily tucking a $100 bill into her bra, which had remained on through the act.



Instead of being sated by her pleasure, Sharon found herself in almost desperate need of more, and had rushed to be ready for the next ‘guest.’ She had entertained not just the men flying hundreds and thousands of miles to visit her, but the men enjoying other dancers in the champagne room the way she moaned and thrashed, welcoming the stranger’s thrusts. Her arousal built with each successive fan, and when Go’s runner had come to tell her it was time to get ready for the set with Kelly, the drug addled, lust hazed housewife had nearly refused.



Instead, she had stripped down more quickly than the pair usually did, and by the middle of the second song was atop the smaller younger woman. After energetically grinding their sexes together into the final chorus, Sharon had managed a handstand, levering her torso up by anchoring her heels high over head on the pole, plunging her face into Kelly’s bare sex. Sucking & licking hungrily, she had voraciously eaten the younger woman while fingering her own insatiable sex, hips bucking and gyrating in time with the third song. Unable to keep her concentration at the actual sexual advance, poor Kelly had been reduced to panting, moaning, and trembling by the song’s end. While the crowd went wild, Sharon had wiped her young lover’s juices from her face and had licked her lips suggestively as one of the bouncers slipped up onto the stage and carried Kelly into the back.

The girls who had been working the floor had been watching in shock and arousal, and there were silent stares from those getting ready to dance when Sharon sauntered into the dressing room. Looking around, she had asked pointedly if someone else wanted her to ‘dance with her’ that night, but before anyone could take her up on the slurred offer, she had been notified that another ‘fan’ was ready for her.



Sometime during that coupling, as she was screaming she was cumming again and demanding the flabby middle aged man fuck her harder, it was as if Sharon’s rational mind simply shut off. She was still moving, moaning, begging for more, and thrusting hungrily at the series of guests and regulars who lined up to enjoy the especially hot housewife that night. The six men who had still been awaiting their turn with the new discovery insisted to Go or his bouncers as they were safely escorted out to their cars that she had been the best they had ever met. And aside from the time it took to clean up, touch up, and don new lingerie, Sharon was a fixture in the blue room until nearly an hour after the club closed at 2.



She hungrily sucked at the succession of strange cock, and eagerly fucked man after man, thanking each with a broad lazy smile as she lay on the cushion when they finished and pulled out. She even interacted with the other girls, who had no idea the nympho housewife had received some pharmaceutical encouragement. Some wondered at how obviously aroused she was, having sex with so many men. Glory rolled her eyes when the insatiable white wife insisted that every one of her ‘guests’ was a ‘stud’ that night, telling Sharon she could drop the act outside the blue room.



After an especially aggressive coupling with one of the club’s regulars, who had decided he needed to ‘remind the slut why she danced there,’ Sharon gushed to the other girls how much ‘she loved them.’ It left the more experienced strippers skeptical until Sharon caught hold of Kelly, giving her a passionate kiss.



Go had wisely cancelled Sharon and Kelly’s last sets. The younger coed was still rattled thirty minutes after Sharon had given her a screaming orgasm on the stage in front of a couple hundred strangers, and the kiss sent her spinning once again… At least she did not balk at working in the Champagne room after that, though. Of course, there were fewer guests interested in enjoying her that night, and she had been wandering the club, offering the occasional lap dance, until close. When she began to ask when Sharon would be done in the Champagne room at about 2:30, Go had guided the young coed back to the dressing room and had quietly insisted that Kelly take Sharon’s Range Rover and go home, assuring the young BZ Bitch he would see to it Sharon got home when she was through.



He had been true to his word, in a manner of speaking. The second tier of six men were finished with the BZ prize bitch just before 3AM. There had also been three regulars, two of whom had been less than thrilled at the ‘poachers’ as they had termed the increasing stream of outsiders interested in balling Sharon. Go had been carefully keeping the visitors numbers down… never more than four in a night, and since the newly voracious housewife was taking easily ten men in a shift, it had not been a problem, but he had come up against the simple fact that when school ended for the semester Sharon would be going home, and he had opted to maximize the greater income shopping her out as a star brought.



He smiled, watching the still aroused housewife masturbating in the seat beside him as he drove her home in his Cadillac XLR. She had not hesitated a moment, sauntering to the low slung sports car in just a fresh set of ‘Snake Eyes’ thin cotton racerback bra and thong panty. She held her clothes and purse in one hand, along with a second bag with more of the bras and panties. Sharon had no way of knowing why… she was not really aware what she was carrying, only that she was impossibly horny and needed cock. Belatedly realizing Go was in the car, she had without a word slipped the shoulder strap off of her belt, fingers scrabbling at his jeans before she sucked his rising cock into her mouth, sucking at him fervently until he had pulled up before her unit in the apartment complex just off campus.



There had already been a car waiting, and Go was slightly put off… he had been clear in his instructions to the men wanting the ‘special’… they were to park away from her place and walk to their appointment. The feigned bravado of her first appointment wilted under Go’s harsh glare, and the man agreed to park elsewhere and return, although Go was unsure whether he would really be back. It helped, he had decided later, than Sharon had strutted up the short walk and was leaning against the doorframe, playing with herself. Smiling at the sexy image, Go had snapped several photos before guiding the endlessly aroused housewife into her apartment… It was good they were getting back so late… none of her neighbors had been privy to the impromptu show.



Go had proceeded to enjoy the married slut draped over the couch, splayed out on the kitchen table, and on her bed, relieved that it was not the demanding, almost intimidating woman he had last banged in his office a week before, but a responsive, multi-orgasmic woman always begging for more. He knew the real Sharon would be back in a few hours, but having her more pliable was crucial to pleasing her fans.



He had managed to finish a few moments after there was a knock on the door, and had left Sharon in a semblance of the doggy style position, ass high, head on her pillow, as he sauntered out, zipping up as he went, to let her admirer in. He was glad he had scheduled the first visitor for forty five minutes instead of thirty, since it had taken an extra fifteen minutes for the stranger to park and return. Sharon did not come out of the bedroom, dutifully changing at Go’s instruction into fresh undies before each guest arrived, the used garments having gone with her fans as souvenirs. Go sat watching SportsCenter in the front room, then watched the early morning news as a final 5 men took a turn with the world famous housewife whore. The last thanked Go effusively as he left. Go chuckled… none of the men had lasted 20 minutes with Sharon.



Having watched some of the porn DVD’s littering the small entertainment center, he had determined where some of the hidden cameras were positioned. Winking at the camera set over the fireplace mantle, he had counted out the tips the men had left, kept his cut, and tucked the rest into the tin of weed on the mantle. He guessed Dave would collect at least some of Sharon’s bonus, which did not really matter to him.



Poking his head into the bathroom, he grinned… The room reeked of sex. Sharon looked little different from the position he had initially left, her, except she was turned across the bed. Eyes closed, she was fingering her still wet sex, hips undulating slightly. Shaking his head, he closed the door, checking his watch… ten hours ‘switched on’ had to be more than just the E… Sharon truly was insatiable when her inhibitions were unchecked.



He opened his phone, dialing a number as he checked that the front door was locked. The line was picked up as he climbed into the luxury sports car. It was not ideal for the snowy roads he faced, but he knew how to drive and the car was sexier than his old Jeep.



“You freelancing our girls now?”



“Hey, Shaun,” Go liked the younger man; he was sharp, and never missed an angle. Of course, Go had not been successful by being a lightweight. “If Dave had not mentioned this to you, there would have been a BZ welcoming party before the first guy was done.”



“Maybe just me,” Shaun’s calm assurance reminded Go of the way he did business.



“I think that would have been sufficient,” he agreed.



“Someone would have been there for sure.” There was a pause, and Go could imagine the man who had ensnared Sharon watching her on a monitor somewhere. “She do it all on her own?” Go snorted.



“Mostly… She had a little help, but if you can see what she’s doing now…” Shaun did not confirm or deny. “Well, there’s no way that’s all little helpers. She’s a flat out grade A sex junky, she just hides it most of the time, even from herself.”



Shaun could not argue about that. And he was not really angry about the big club owner whoring her out as he had… Doing fans at the apartment, meant they had it on film, and Go had insisted each of the men sign a waiver including rights to ‘any images’ before they had gotten to enjoy themselves. Those had been tucked into the chip box opposite the weed on the mantle.



“Did you leave a waiver, too?”



“What? Shit, sorry… I’ll drop one by the frat.” The club owner had forgotten that using Sharon in her apartment would have been on tape, even when he was the one fucking her. He smiled at the knowledge he would soon be seen by God knew how many men and no few women using the hot white wife. “She wasn’t a problem once the E was on board, but she’s developing a bit of an attitude,” he warned.



“Dave said as much… we’re trying to figure that out,” Shaun knew Go might have a better perspective, “Any ideas?”



“No, but I’ve got my eyes open… I didn’t see anything but reefer in her purse… I’ll check at her station when I get back home.” Go had a luxurious mansion, but it was mostly for the few days he took away from the club as vacation and the occasional parties he threw for his girls… and for his various business ‘associates,’ of course. He lived for the most part at the club. Thinking about the big house, though, Go admitted to himself that throwing a party with the BZ Bitches as his prime hostesses could be just the way to start the new year.



“She gonna be ready to party tonight?” Go laughed.



“She was masturbating in her sleep when I left. I think she’ll be up to whatever you’ve got planned.” Shaun rang off, and Go headed back to Snake Eyes, pausing only long enough to sign a waiver which he dropped by the sprawling but quiet frat house.



Shaun shook their prize catch awake shortly before 5PM. Checking the cameras, they knew she had been asleep without interruption for almost 10 hours. Groaning, the white housewife had blinked, unsurprised at who was leaning over her. In fact, she had smiled after a moment, arching her back, groaning again, and mumbling a shy and sexy ‘hi’ before rolling out of bed with an unconscious grace and padding quickly to the bathroom. The walk into the bathroom was a wavering track, and she braced on the doorway, holding her other hand to her head, obviously adapting to a hangover. He heard the toilet flush, after which she opened a drawer, and he heard her rummage for a moment before muttering ‘shit.’ She opened a bottle and Shaun assumed she had been having trouble finding the Tylenol.



A moment later, Sharon had exited, stark naked and unashamed, and had asked Shaun with a little girl’s voice as she half turned in the doorway, raising a knee along the frame of the door in an unmistakably sexy pose if he had just come by to say hello.



Laughing, Shaun had proceeded to take the beautiful older woman her bed, finishing in the shower, as he had explained that as much as he would like to keep her to himself for the night, they were going to celebrate. Sharon did not know what he meant, but did not push, although the experienced Frat member had already realized his friend and Go were right… Sharon had been much more aggressive and demanding in their sex, no longer ashamed at enjoying it with him instead of her husband, or embarrassed to want her own pleasure as well… It was more than that, though, and he was glad they were watching her more closely.



He had also been relieved that she was not uncomfortable having sex, considering how many men had used her in the last twenty four hours. He had started gently, teasing her, asking why her clit was so big, was she just happy to see him. She had giggled, throwing herself at him, hands tearing at his clothes, but he had not really been kidding… Her clit… somehow it looked much bigger then he remembered it being. It could be that she had lost weight… Always thin, she had barely been eating, and her ribs and the lines of her musculature were plain. The only down side in his mind was that her breasts were also obviously smaller than they had been just a few weeks before, but as he had hammered into her from behind under the beating spray of the shower, he had smiled, knowing that there was an easy fix for that.



While Sharon went to work drying her hair, Shaun went out into the kitchen, deftly mixing a Mind Eraser, then lighting a thick joint from the tin on the mantle. After pausing to collect the chips and waivers, tucking them into his jacket pocket, Shaun carried the drink into the bathroom, making it a point to watch his prize Bitch getting ready for the night’s festivities. Sharon smiled and thanked him for the drink, which barely seemed out of the ordinary any longer, any more than sharing the joint with her young pimp and lover. At Shaun’s direction, she applied her make up, then donned red crotchless fishnets he had brought, along with a red and green ‘BZ Bitch’ strappy T and cotton shorts combination and a matching stocking cap. He pointed to red patent leather 5″ heels she did not remember buying in her closet.



Sharon never thought to ask where the Range Rover was as she went out, pleased when Shaun held the door for her. There had been more snow and walking in the heels wasn’t as hard as it had been when she had started work at Snake Eyes, but in the snow she worried she might fall.



They were at the frat just a few minutes after five, and Sharon had a fresh drink in her hands the moment she was inside. The air was heavy with the scent of reefer the moment they were beyond the front entry room, where special fans kept the air clean in the case of unexpected visitors.



The entire scene was so familiar to the once naïve housewife that she easily fell into the rhythm of the party, gossiping and laughing with the other BZ Sisters that were circulating through the big house, and giggling and teasing the happy young men. Of course, it was not long before it was more than the passing grope or suggestive comment. Hip Hop versions of Christmas tunes were pounding on the main floor, and Sharon spent several songs dancing with one or two, even three of the frat members. She saw Kelly once, and smiled wickedly at the thought of doing their show for everyone, but one of they guys had swept her away before she could ask if her young lover was interested in giving them such a gift.



The hot tub was on, and Sharon went from gasping at the cold having been inside when Gavin led her outside, to a long squeal when he tossed her in. He paused only to long enough to shuck his long shorts, setting them carefully on a chair back before jumping in with her. Sharon scolded the young man about ruining her costume, but giggled when he thumbed her nipple through the thin top; in the cold air out of the bubbling water, both nubbins were tingling they were so hard. Spinning her around, he announced he needed to wrap his present. Sharon barely had time to catch the edge of the tub in both hands as he yanked her shorts to her knees, then availed himself to her sex thanks to the crotchless stockings. She arched her back, groaning happily as he lanced into her, and met his every thrust, urging him on, begging him to fuck her harder. Her passion was contagious and it was only a few minutes before his load boiled into her sex like the bubbling water surrounding them. Their breath was visible, exhalations of pleasure dissipating in the cold as Sharon hunched back at him, ‘No, not yet… keep fucking me! Not yet, baby…’ because she was so close to cumming.



Spanking her bare ass, Gavin apologized, but laughed that he knew she’d ‘get all she could handle’ at the holiday party. He clambered out and reclaimed his shorts as Sharon floated in the frothing water, embarrassingly aware that she was angry she had not gotten off. She tugged the waterlogged shorts into place and climbed out, shivering at the cold and hurrying inside, being careful not to slip on the scattered patches of ice. The thin cotton material hid nothing to begin with, and clinging to her wet skin, Sharon quickly attracted more attention. Someone thrust a fresh drink into her hand, and before she had taken three drinks a bong had appeared, from which she dutifully toked. She laughed as someone spun her into the doorway, and struck a pose reminiscent of the one she had used to seduce Shaun that morning… Had it been that morning? She giggled, not caring as she watched the hungry expressions of the guys looking her up and down, hooting and shouting encouragement at her. God, she was horny. Someone pointed and she glanced up to see she had come to a stop below what looked like the mistletoe her family always hung strategically in the doorways at home for Christmas. She blinked, seeing that instead of a red and green ornament, the leaves and oversized fruits were black.



The nearby frat members moved closer around her and began to chant, ‘kiss, kiss, kiss!’ Sharon found herself on the receiving end of one kiss after another, hands moving casually over already aroused body, simply building her need. She whined when a voice announced over the house intercom for all BZ Sisters to meet in the front room. Sharon giggled as several more guys took a turn kissing her before she managed to slip out of the doorway, hurrying to the big entry room. Seeing her sisters, she smiled and greeted the others, many of whom she had not seen for several weeks. Everyone was laughing and having fun, and it seemed that what they were doing was the most natural behavior imaginable. There was a big stack of boxes in the center of the room, and Shaun and Dave had the girls begin taking boxes to the appropriate frat members. When everyone had a box, the women found themselves looking out at the smiles and hungry eyes of nearly the entire frat. No one had begun to open anything, waiting for permission or instructions, she guessed. The girls preened and posed and giggled, teasing the gathered young men. The sexual tension in the air was unmistakable.



“Happy Holidays, friends,” Shaun spoke into a cordless microphone, moving in the space between the women and men, “We always have a shirt to commemorate our parties… This year, it was a little late, but they’re here and I think you will like them. Gentlemen?” With a whoop the young men tore at the packages, all of which contained a white shirt adorned with the ubiquitous ‘BZ’ logo, and with a high resolution image of mistletoe embossed low on the front. The women watched as the guys hurriedly stripped off whatever shirts they were wearing and donned the ‘holiday attire.’ Sharon giggled, seeing there were black mistletoe sprigs in every doorway.



“Head on in to the dining room,” Shaun told the group, “We had to go with tenderloin over turkey so no one would fall asleep tonight.” The guys laughed and talked, starting for the doorways leading to the dining hall. The girls waited, wondering what was expected of them. “Oh wait,” Shaun slapped his forehead as if he had missed something, “You’ll get your packages from Santa after dinner, but be sure to grab an elf to help you during dinner.” The older frat members had hung back, Sharon realized; they knew the drill. There were fewer Sisters than there were frat members, though many women Sharon had not seen before– she was guessing older sisters returned just for the night’s party– were in attendance as well; the women had been making introductions, and she had been embarrassed to realize many of the strangers already knew who she was… the knowledge she was so famous in the BZ circles had also triggered the spark of pleasure she was hardly reacting to as being different any longer. Her body trembled and she nearly climaxed without any real stimulation, and when the moment had passed, it was a struggle not to use her fingers to relieve the pressure to get off.

The girls were quickly grabbed by the eager frat members. Sharon found herself being led by the hand to the dining hall by Samir. The thin young man paused in the doorway, offering an almost shy smile as he leaned in to kiss her. Sharon kissed back, her body undulating against the frat member, in part because she did not want him to feel bad that she had been hoping Tom or one of the other big linemen would choose her. She saw Tom had Kelly in tow, and was both happy for her partner and more than a little jealous.



The table had just enough seats for the frat members. Sharon, Kelly, and the other newer Sisters paused, uncertain what they were supposed to do. Shaking his head at them as if they should have known better, Dave pointed toward the veterans, who were ducking under the table, hands coming up to open the pants of the frat members as they sat down to dinner.



“You got to enjoy being under the mistletoe,” Dave laughed, using another of the microphones that projected his voice throughout the frat, “Now it’s your turn to give the guys a kiss. And,” he held up a metallic wrapped jewelry box package, “The first elf to finish the job gets a special gift.” Sharon did not think, driving beneath the table and hurriedly getting Samir’s pants open. He grunted, then settled as Sharon set about devouring his semi-erect cock. The young man quickly swelled to full erection and she redoubled her efforts, aware beneath the table of the men’s muffled voices, and the amplified sounds of the other girls working like her to earn the gift.



Sharon caught Samir’s knees with both hands, lunging at him, swallowing the broad head of his cock with each downward pump. Her cheeks were hollow as she sucked hungrily, tongue swirling around the shaft to the head on each backstroke. Within a minute Samir groaned, his hand slipping beneath the table, clutching at Sharon’s hair. Instead of slowing, Sharon ignored the pain of her hair pulling, redoubling her efforts. An almost evil smile curved her lips around the helpless frat boy’s jutting cock, as she reveled in being able to so easily strip him of control. She groaned, aware of her own need, and feeling his body jerk in response to the sensation, she continued to vocalize, offering the almost thrashing frat member a hummer that carried him over the edge less than two minutes after she had dropped beneath the table.



“Ahhhh!” he moaned, and Sharon wanted to shout, except that her mouth was full of his jism. She swallowed easily, bobbing her head more gently, sucking Samir dry over the next twenty or thirty seconds. She released the young man’s softening cock, hearing the chorus of cheers and jeers as Dave told Samir to ‘bring his elf up to get her prize.” She wiped her mouth, smiling self-consciously as Samir led her by the hand to the front of the dining hall. She could see the young frat member was blushing– the stereotypical geek, the athletes were giving him hell for his lack of staying power. Stopping in front of Jamal, one of the basketball players, she cocked a hip, glaring at him as she draped herself protectively over the smaller, younger BZ member.



“Are you saying you’d last longer?” she taunted, eyeing him pointedly.” A sophomore, Jamal had not remembered to wait in the main room, and so had not yet gotten an elf of his own, “Shall we see who’s got better control?” She would have sworn the jet black skin paled, and Jamal laughed nervously, pointing out that she had to go get her gift. Sharon kissed Samir on the cheek, thanked him for a ‘wonderful load,’ and hopped up to the dais, ignoring the freshman’s deep blush and the mixed teasing and congratulations the frat’s tech savant received, and the relative quiet as the frat brothers reacted to the way she had interrupted the teasing of one of their own at the expense of another.



Dave winked at her.



“Girls, are you going to let this married mother of a young woman almost ready to become a BZ Sister herself show you up like this?” The few heads that had popped up to see who had won dove back beneath the tablecloth and several of the Brothers were soon panting and moaning. “Let’s hear it for the best kiss under the mistletoe for this year, Sharon Sobel, better known to your friends as Sharon Synn.” Sharon blushed, accepting the hug Dave offered as he handed her the box. She started back for the table and her position in front of Samir, but Dave swatted her barely covered bottom. “Hold on, now, show everyone what you got.” Blushing at the attention, and at the way her body was buzzing with arousal at being the center of attention, Sharon tore at the paper and opened the box, not really sure what to expect. The box was rectangular and flat, like for earrings. Inside, she found a curved stainless steel post with a green bead upon which BZ was written in crimson, and from which dangled the black mistletoe, the berries glittering… black diamonds. There was a similar straight bar with a matching green bead at one end and a slightly flattened silver ball at the other end. She blinked at it for a moment before recognizing it was a tongue stud.



“But I don’t have my…” she started to whisper. Dave leaned close,



“No worries, babe… plenty of time to fix that little problem… Hubby will shit when you blow him with that in.” Sharon blushed, sure that he was right, and a bit surprised to find she doubted Chris would even argue when she showed him… She shuddered at the spasm of her clit, and at the momentary idea he might not mind whatever she brought home. Of course, she knew that was not true.



Any further consideration of what she was thinking was distracted by the necklace that was positioned around the tongue stud. The rope chain was gold plated and was nearly 5mm, thicker than the necklaces she usually wore. A pendant hung from the chain, depicting a stylized but still recognizable Jessica Hare on her knees in a green and red elf’s costume, blowing a definitely black skinned Harold Hare, who’s impressive cock was half out of the busty cartoon’s mouth. Sharon was shocked at how expensive the piece had to be… Jessica’s outfit looked to be emerald and ruby, and black diamonds were Harold’s skin, a white diamond glittering in his open eye as he winked out at her, his visible hand holding a sprig of mistletoe over Jessica’s red orange hair… topaz, she was guessing. She managed a nod when Dave asked if she wanted him to put it on her, and shivered as she looked down where the pendant nestled between her breasts. The guys cheered and she managed a smile, nodding again when Dave whispered that he would send the tongue stud to Donnie so she could have it put in over break.



Dave almost laughed at the dazed response of their clearly stoned prize whore… The only truly pricey stones were the black diamonds, and even they weren’t nearly the cost people expected. Having graduates who were jewelers helped, but the piece had set the frat back less than $400, most of which had been for the heavier chain. Sharon bit her lip as she looked up at him, and reaching back, Dave caught the nearest bong, ‘sharing’ a hit with the winner as the guys cheered yet again. Then he caught her hand, spinning her and shouting.



“Guess it’s time to eat dinner… who still needs an elf to help them out?” Hands shot up across the room, but smiling mischievously he led her to Jamal, who had not been one of the guys hoping to enjoy her skilled mouth. Sharon smiled, bit her lip endearingly, and promised the big forward she would ‘be gentle’ as she ducked under the table and set about opening his pants. He might have been reluctant to ask for her, but by his erection she knew he was more than ready, and she caught hold of the base of his big cock, bobbing her head on just the bulbous mushroom tip and the first few inches until she felt him relax. She kept at it, tongue swirling, sucking gently, head moving less than halfway down his length… until she thought she had felt him lean forward to get something off of his plate.



Instantly she changed gears, powering all the way to his groin, sucking fervently, hand dipping to let her fingernails tease his balls. She levered back, pulling his erection away from his body, never releasing the suction as she began to moan around his shaft. His hips came up, and Sharon saw stars as the move banged her head against the underside of the table, but she reacted, sucking even harder, and then with a gasp, less than a minute after she had begun to suck at his cock, Jamal fed her his load. She backed off when he was spent, aware that his friends were laughing that she’d ‘gotten him good.’ Anxious not to make an enemy when she was so obviously vulnerable, she chanced peeking above the table to argue.



“No, daddy, he got me good… Thank you baby,” she poured it on for the muscular young man, “You can give me that beautiful cock anytime you want.” She thought there was still some anger in his eyes as Jamal nodded, obviously pleased at the compliment.



“We’ll just see about that, little bitch… Glad to help ya.” Sharon thanked him again, then ducked back beneath the table. She watched, seeing the older girls… well, the more experienced girls, at least, were working around the gathered frat members in a clockwise direction. That meant her next brother was the guy who had been giving Jamal a hard time. She thought he was the school’s senior forward, but since basketball season was just under way, and she was more familiar with the football players, it really did not matter. She yanked his shorts down and went to work, managing to get the third fellow off in just about two minutes, as well.



“Pssst,” she looked over to see Joyce eyeing her with a half smile. “Take it easy, girl, or you’ll get TMJ,” the jet black beauty shook her head, “Don’t go makin’ the rest of us look bad… you’ll get more than enough cock, tonight.” So Sharon tried to dial it back with the next ready BZ Brother. Even so, as the men filling her mouth and throat became more aroused it seemed to spur her on, and the longest anyone lasted as she ate them while they ate their meals was 5 minutes. The frat enjoyed their meal– Sharon had not looked to see what all they were having– over the next 45 minutes, and with the exception of pauses for more booze and grass, she was under the table with the other Sisters for the entire time. Even so, when the guys began to push away from the table Sharon never considered asking if she could have something to eat– her stomach was adequately filled by the even dozen loads she had swallowed during the meal.



Giggling, she staggered up from beneath the oversize table with the other girls and let the young men guide her back into the main room on the frat’s ground floor.



A high back chair had been placed in the center of the room, and one of the frat members, Sharon was sure, was decked out in the red and white coat and hat and bushy white beard of Santa Claus. She giggled, because between the hem of the coat, which was unbuttoned at the bottom, and the tops of the black buckle boots, ‘Santa’ was naked. And Santa was fully erect. As she watched, several of the other frat members who had ducked out after dinner appeared, carrying chairs from the dining room. Each wore a less detailed red and white coat and hat, and the requisite bushy white beard. The made a loose circle with the real ‘Santa,’ taking seats and waving their varied erections at the hooting, talking brethren.



“All right, elves,” Dave pointed, “We all know there’s one real Santa Claus, but that he has lots of helpers.” Sharon noticed the veterans were lining up in front of the various young men and quickly moved to join them. She was not surprised to find that there was a ‘Santa’ for each of the BZ Sisters who were present. She opened her mouth, aware that her jaw was a little sore after dinner. Last year’s real Santa gets the throne,” he went on.



Sharon saw that Joyce was standing in front of him. “Last year this was where we used the mistletoe,” Dave continued, and Sharon eyed the erect cocks, trying to decide who was who. She could pick football and basketball players out, and wondered if Tom was one of them. She was almost sure Samir was seated on the opposite side of the ring. She had not seen Shaun, but could not see his impressive cock among those not obscured by the brothers’ position. She shivered, hoping he was part of the circle. “This year we decided everyone should get to enjoy some before we started the party.” The gathered brothers cheered that decision. “I gather you like your new shirts.” That led to another cheer. “Use them carefully when you get home, guys.” There were laughs, “And remember we want suggestions those of you who visit your old stomping grounds… who should we invite next year.”



Sharon assumed Dave meant other men for the BZ frat, whereas the members knew they were being told to find new prospective BZ Bitches. The available cocks seemed to fill Sharon’s senses, and the knowledge that she would soon be having sex had her nearly dripping with desire. “Now we’re taking a page from the Snake Eyes playbook,” Dave continued, “Santas are not allowed to touch their elves. Elves, your job is to find the real Santa… To do that, you need to give them your most precious gift.” For a moment Sharon wondered if Dave meant her ass. She blushed, amazed she could think like that, even as she rubbed her thighs together anxious to feel the big cock jutting toward her sliding inside…



“Whenever you hear the bell, move clockwise. Whenever one of our Santas is finished, we’ll stop, and… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Sharon nodded, looking at the other girls, some of whom seemed embarrassed, while others seemed as anxious for it to begin as Sharon felt.” Stepping back, Dave raised his off hand and rang the bell he was holding.



Sharon was ahead of more than half of the girls, literally leaping onto the Santa before her. She threw her head back, moaning as he sank more than halfway into her on the first stroke. Catching his shoulders, the now practiced mother arched her back, slipping almost completely off of the frat member’s impressive tool before she settled down, being completely impaled within the first five seconds of coupling. The young man’s breath huffed out in a ‘Jesus!’ as she shimmied her hips, holding him fully inside, reveling in the sensation of his filling her up. She tilted her pelvis, she managed to increase the pressure of his shaft against her clit as she rose, grudgingly letting him slip from her aroused sex, only to reverse course, taking him fully again. She paused, then made a series of small thrusting motions, keeping him mostly buried, quickly sensing the approaching edge of her own release.



Her attention was captured by Joyce. The pretty BZ Sister had an impressive ass… it was not fat, to be sure, but was much heavier than Sharon’s. And the skilled younger woman was using her ass, twitching it impossibly quickly, like Sharon had seen on videos while hanging around the frat. The lithe coed changed technique, then, hips undulating in tight little circles like a pornographic hula dancer.



Sharon tried to emulate the younger woman, and though she knew it wasn’t the piledriver effect she was watching a few seats to her right, the guy beneath her groaned and she immediately redoubled her efforts. Sweat broke out on her forehead… The new twitching maneuver was not generating as much pressure on her hungry clit.



She felt the man she was fucking catch hold of her waist. She growled in protest– Dave had said they were not supposed to touch the Sisters… Belatedly she realized the bell had rung… Diane giggled as Sharon disengaged, climbing awkwardly down from the panting young man. She moved to the next cock, licking her lips at the way his heavy shaft glistened with the lubrication of the older BZ Sister she had just met that night who was to her left, Monique. She never considered what additional exposure it meant, sharing the succession of cock with her Sisters, but then all were available equally to the fraternity members, so if anything Sharon was the one putting the others at risk, given her additional duties.



Hungry for her release, the once timid housewife eagerly impaled herself on the second frat member, who groaned appreciatively, and again as Sharon began to ride him with abandon. As she was finding her rhythm, there was a masculine shout and Diane gave a delighted cry. Sharon realized as she looked to her right that the guy she had been fucking had just erupted in the brunette. Diane slipped free as the spent Santa’s cock continued to fire, obviously expecting a reward.



“Hold on now, bitches,” Dave ordered over the microphone, ringing the bell repeatedly, “We have our first casualty… but what a way to go, right? Get down, girls…” Sharon giggled, relieved that she wasn’t the only one disappointed by the pause in the action. “C’mere Diane,” Dave motioned and the barely clothed young brunette bounced close to the long step where Dave was standing. “For being the first to get one of the Brother Santa’s off, you get a special gift.” He handed her a small box, and the drunk, aroused young woman laughed and quickly changed her dangling earrings for the small replicas of the mistletoe hanging in the doorways. As she was doing it, other BZ members grabbed the chair that had been occupied by the guy Sharon had first fucked, and the remaining Santas tightened the circle.



“Start moving in a clock wise direction,” Dave ordered, “I think you know this game…” Sharon realized with perverse pleasure that she did, indeed. A moment later, the music cut out and Sharon leapt forward, barely beating Keiko to the closest Santa. The lithe young Asian managed to bounce away from Sharon, getting the next guy’s cock into her sex before the women who were coming up to him could get into play. Around them girls squealed and shrieked. The guys laughed and cheered, shouting encouragement, then teasing and jeering Robin, an upper class BZ Sister Sharon had just met that night. The woman was blushing fiercely as she was led from the room to what fate Sharon could only guess.



Sharon was barely paying attention, though, anyway; her focus was the new cock thrust completely into her tingling seam. She groaned with the muscular young man beneath her, arching her back, twitching her hips, pumping up and down in short, quick, hungry strokes.



The bell rang, and Sharon was torn… she did not want to stop fucking the wonderful cock jutting up with potency, promising a delicious climax. But Diane was standing beside her, eyeing her pointedly, her arms crossed, and glancing to her left, Sharon saw the next Santa’s bare, glistening cock. Licking her lips, she grudgingly dragged her aroused box off of the boy she had been pleasuring. She felt him relax as she climbed down, moving to the next ready young cock.



Around her, the other BZ Bitches were rising and falling, the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, and the muted moans and panting breath of so many people amplified Sharon’s need, and after pausing to bend at the waist, theatrically slurping at the new ‘Santa’s’ cock before taking it into her sex, Sharon caught the hapless young man by the shoulder and began to ride him almost violently.



“C’mon, Santa,” she husked, “Give me my present!” Her new partner was taut. She giggled, thinking that he was not one of the football players, and wondering if he played soccer or baseball, since he was too short to play basketball. She knew there were several members like Samir, brainiacs or electronics wizards… the guys that helped the others pass their classes and organized the frat so it ran like a well oiled machine. She bit her lip, imagining the cock pistoning in and out of her pussy like that well oiled machine. She arched her back, increasing the pressure on her engorged clit. God, that felt good.

The Brother’s hands were abruptly pushing at her abdomen, and Sharon giggled as she realized the action had been called to a stop again. She glanced around, biting her lower lip while teasing the poor boy’s cockhead with her dripping fringe before stepping back away from him. Beside her, Diane was beaming, as the Santa Sharon had just finished riding sheepishly left the ring. Diane was given baby wipes to clean herself up, and Sharon saw that one of the new girls on the other side of the ring was also cleaning up, having gotten her Santa off, as well.



“How about that, gang, two going at once… guess it’ll be a tougher fight to get more cock, won’t it, my Bitches?” The women nodded, looking at each other, each trying to decide whether going right or left would be best when the music stopped. A hip hop version of ‘Jingle Bells’ started up, and the Sisters began to circle the remaining Santas. “Each of you get a drink,” Dave motioned with his microphone to the tables set up at intervals around the path the women were walking, “You’re working hard, we can’t have anyone getting dehydrated.” The frat members chuckled, as Sharon and the others dutifully grabbed Solo cups from the tables. Sharon choked hers down, not wanting to be distracted when the music stopped.



She shrieked like some of the others when the chorus cut out, leaping at the nearest BZ Brother, truly launching herself into his lap. Her ready sex easily accepted his thick spear and she was more than half impaled before her momentum was absorbed, thighs spread wide, draped over impossibly muscular legs… a lineman, she thought with delight, wondering if it was Tom. Wanting to make him feel good if it was, she began a combined rise and fall with her best imitation of Joyce’s shimmying hips, and the Brother beneath her groaned in obvious pleasure. She paused… was he going to cum? He shifted, and she giggled, certain he was close, and then went to work once again… She was so close… could feel the edge of her orgasm right there…



Big hands slipped beneath her flexing ass, lifting her off of the long, broad cock. She whined in protest, but knew without looking around she had stopped listening again and the bell had rung. Pouting at the interruption, Sharon moved clockwise to the next Santa, track or basketball, she considered by his lanky physique, pleased at another larger than average cock ready for her to enjoy. She glanced to her right as she settled fully onto the new erection, and was surprised to see it was not Diane beside her. For a moment she thought the young woman had been caught without a cock, but then she saw the brunette was riding a Santa farther to her right. She smiled weakly at… Rebecca, it took the sex addled, drunken housewife a moment to remember the girl’s name. She was another upper classman, and Sharon had seen her dance at Snake Eyes on some of the ‘open’ nights, but had not stopped to think that the girl was a BZ Sister. Her hair was brown by the roots, but had been dyed a dark red. Various tattoos covered much of her torso, and she wore a silver chain from a high ear piercing to the piercing in her lobe, Sharon noticed, before turning her attention to the next Santa in the line.



Sharon smiled down as she straddled her new suitor… Light black skin, muscled legs, but not the heavy muscles of the linemen. She knew it could be Verel, and was glad that she was not able to identify the Brothers just by their cocks… Giggling drunkenly at the thought that she might be able to do just that with a little more practice, Sharon arched her back, settling onto the new cock. He was average, but that did not matter, she knew… if she could get off with Chris, any of the BZ members could get her off… She began to ride without considering what she was thinking; only her need to cum was important. She had barely found her rhythm when there was a familiar masculine groan, and Rebecca gave a short laugh. Sharon looked at the way she was snugged down onto Tom’s erupting cock with jealousy, never wondering how she knew with certainty that it was Tom. She and the other BZ Bitches obediently stepped away from their partners as the spectators cheered. Rebecca wiped at herself briefly while Tom struggled up from the chair in which he had been sitting, and lumbered from the room.



The girls grabbed fresh glasses of the night’s minty sweet alcoholic drink and began to walk the circle. Sharon had just dropped her empty glass when the music stopped. She was between two of the Santas, and glancing at them instinctively went for the larger cock, the boy to her right. Liquid splashed her face and chest and she cried out but didn’t slow down. Her shoulder was just ahead of Rebecca’s as she threw herself into the Brother’s lap, not caring if she managed to get him into her sex, yet.



“Bitch!” she cried, pawing at her eyes with the hand not holding onto ‘Santa’s’ shoulder. Still blinking at the stinging alcohol, she reached down, bringing another cock to her ready slit, not even considering how eager she was to fuck a stranger. The frat members who had seen the more experienced BZ Bitch’s ploy laughed. She had found herself in a heap, knocked aside blindly by the older, similar sized married co-ed. Sharon heard Rebecca cursing and resolved then and there not to be caught out… whatever the experienced Sister did not want to do, Sharon was sure she wanted to avoid as well. Besides, she reasoned, rising and falling steadily on the new cock, trying to build back to that edge of orgasm she had been with Tom, one of these times she would actually get off.



The process continued. Behind her, the guy she had been riding when Tom came was the next to get off. The poor girl he filled up, a petite brown haired sophomore named Megan, got off at the same time, and was still so buzzed when Dave stopped the music after barely time to move a couple Santas down the line that she was eliminated. Two BZ seated beside each other went off together before Sharon could really find a rhythm with her new partner, and she was obviously mad when she had to circle away from the impressive cock for anther, all of which seemed to increase the cheering. The number of circling BZ ‘Elves’ dwindled, as did the remaining ready cocks… she had lost count of how many girls each of the remaining ‘Santas’ had taken. Twice more the boy sitting in the throne had been unable to hold of, and the remaining brothers had repositioned. She thought she had finished four more big glasses of the booze, but she was not sure. Staggering around the circle the last time, she had moved close, stabilizing her wobbly course by touching the remaining Brother’s knees, and giggling drunkenly the entire time.



Finding and maintaining a rhythm was getting harder, but Sharon didn’t mind, anymore than she minded the way the guys nearby laughed each time she settled onto a new Saint Nick, groaning ‘yes’ loudly and immediately going to work. Looking around, she realized Diane was no longer in sight… Humping up and down on the cock thrusting up inside of her, she counted four… no five… no four girls… five including her. She giggled, trying to remember how many Santas that meant were left. Her clit pulsed, the spasm almost enough to get her off… but leaving her release just beyond reach. Arching her back, she pressed herself against the young man she was riding, and abruptly felt the heat as he erupted inside of her.



“Mmmmm,” she purred, swiveling her hips, holding him buried, reveling in the sensation, and trying unsuccessfully to get to her own release. “Not done,” she pouted, as some of the Brothers stepped up, bodily lifting her from her spent suitor, and quickly clearing he and the chair away. She looked to the table but there were no new drinks. She wondered if a hit from one of the many bongs would clear her head. Licking her lips, Sharon began to walk to her left even before the music had started… Four guys left… She frowned… four girls? No five… She saw Joyce and Monique had made it, as well as Kelly and a light skinned black girl she knew was a junior, but could not remember the name… The girl’s expression was set, not angry or confrontational, but neither friendly. Sharon giggled, wanting to tell the girl she was too pretty to be so frowny. She listened to the music, humming along with a heavily stylized ‘All I Want for Christmas’ as the remaining women circled the aroused, waiting boys.



The music stopped, and Sharon moved… to her right again, because Joyce was to her left, and she giggled at the fearsome check the girl’s thick ass could bring. Joy, that was the willowy girl’s name– the girl she easily beat out, in her haste to have a big cock filling her wanting cunt. “Mmmm,” she husked, and set about riding the hapless young man, who seemed frozen, he was so rigid beneath her. She had not been going at it long enough for Joy to have been led from the room before the young man she was humping groaned and began to cum. Sharon tilted her hips, pressing her sex against him savagely, whining in her failed attempt to get off, despite the steady shocks her clit was sending through her body. She slipped off of the boy’s spent cock a moment later, ignoring the proffered wipe and instead scooping the pearly fluid leaking from her sex up with two fingers and then licking her finders clean. There were cheers around her and Sharon shivered, reveling in the attention. Ignoring the complaints Joy was making that Sharon had ‘cheated’ she stretched, and then sauntered to one of the brothers ringing the remaining Santas and Elves, and grabbed his bong, taking a long hit, to renewed cheers.



Head spinning, Sharon laughed deliriously and jumped back into her place in the ring of moving women. When the music stopped, she squealed, managing to settle her trim ass on the lap of one of the Santa’s ahead of Joyce. Sharon gasped as the younger woman’s thick hip slapped against her side above her hip bone, but she had already begun to take the swollen cock inside of her by then, and aside from eliciting a groan from the boy she was slipping down onto, Sharon was barely aware of the contact. She giggled, looking at the muscles cording the young man’s forearms, where he gripped the chair. Aware of what was happening, she abruptly stopped, holding him buried, and struggled to tighten her inner muscles as the Kegel exercises Tawny had insisted she do were supposed to improve. She laughed as the boy beneath her went rigid and a whimper escaped his throat… She had wondered when trying it at the club if there was really any change the men enjoying her could feel, but this was the first time she had proof.



The rush of power made her want to shout. It made her want to go on fucking the young man’s wonderful cock forever. She came with a shudder at the fantasy of doing just that, and by the thrashing beneath her, realized with a fresh rush of pleasure that her Santa was cumming, too. There was a groan to her right, the young man shaking his head, which made Sharon laugh as she watched Kelly working at him almost as eagerly as she had been riding the boys for as long as they had been playing the game. When the young man beneath her had quieted, Sharon slipped off of him gently and stepped back, raising her arms and welcoming the cheers of the surrounding frat members. She was loving it, and had no idea that with very few exceptions the frat members falling out had done so shortly after enduring her eager attention.



There were bongs on the table and she and Kelly laughed and took several hits as the ‘ring’ became a line, the two men in chairs back to back, with the throne pulled off to the side. Monique arched a delicately plucked brow, and Kelly giggled but looked nervously at Sharon, who shrugged, pulling each woman close to share a passionate kiss, smoke leaking from between first she and Kelly, and then she and Monique’s lips. Giggling, Kelly completed the circuit, kissing the upper classman BZ Sister, and then over the din of the entire House’s cheers the women heard the music start up.



Circling the remaining Santas, Sharon blinked and giggled, suddenly certain that one of the remaining young men was Shaun. Licking her lips, Sharon moaned softly, feeling her clit pulse more strongly than it had in days, the lingering stimulation threatening to become an orgasm as she circled the men with Kelly and Monique. She came around in front of him, locked eyes with him, desperate for him to know she knew he was her Santa. But Dave did not cut the music, and she had to move past him, around to the other frat member.



She was moving past him, arousal bringing fresh lubrication to her pussy as she realized the was going to circle around to him again when the music stopped. Sharon blinked. Monique was directly in front of Shaun… already moving onto his lap. Sharon turned, even as part of her mind cried out in horror that it was Kelly she was about to knock out of the game. Her friend and lover was frozen as well, and then as their eyes met, both moved toward the waiting cock. Sharon bit her lip, her entire body still buzzing with the desire for Shaun. At the last moment, as she realized she was going to reach the other boy before Kelly, Sharon pulled up, and smiled in pleasure at the relief and gratitude in Kelly’s eyes as she let the younger woman saddle up. Sharon was not jealous that Kelly was still in the game… neither woman was getting to enjoy the cock she wanted at that moment.



Around her, the spectating frat Brothers shouted, many having obviously bet on Sharon winning. She offered no resistance as two of the younger members caught her by the hands, leading her out of the room. Only as they opened the front door, though, did Sharon realize it was the front door of the frat… she was being led out onto the front porch in just the thin cotton top, her shorts having long since been lost in the activity. The top was soaked with sweat and beer and saliva, and under the halogen light on the porch she knew anyone driving by would have a clear shot of all of her charms.



Her clit pulsed and she writhed in the grip of the two young men, not fighting their punishment, but horrified at what could happen, even as her body responded with a fierce wave of arousal. They let go, slamming the door behind her… the wood was cold on her bare ass. She stumbled forward, wondering if she was supposed to go home like that having lost. She was already shivering, and wondered if she would survive the walk home, or whether being arrested for public indecency would be how Chris found out what a slut his wife had become.



“You just gonna stand there putting on a show?” Gavin asked, and Sharon gasped, seeing he and another frat member were standing at the front corner, by of the personal gate beside the house allowing passage form the front to the backyard. Rubbing her hands over her arms to fight the rising goose bumps, she hurried over, nearly slipping in the process. The guys caught her arms and she relaxed, sure she was safe. There was just time for her to register what was happening as they turned the corner to a wide low metal tub… like she had seen for feeding livestock when she was a young girl. The water was about two feet deep in the tub, which was in view of the hot tub, except that she had not noticed it earlier… or that there was ice floating in the water. Lots of ice. She shivered, feeling momentarily sorry for the women huddled and shivering in the water… the losers of the night’s game.



As that thought reverberated in her drink and weed addled mind, the men easily tossed her into the middle of the big tub. Sharon went under, coming up sputtering and shrieking, her body twitching visibly at the cold. She clutched blindly at the others, desperate for relief from the water, which was being kept from freezing only by the shivering women and a small circulating pump.



“G-g-god, what is this?” she sputtered quietly, not sure if the women were not to talk, considering how quiet everyone was.” She glanced over, hating that three of the members were casually lounging in the hot tub barely twenty feet away. She pressed against Joyce, who shrugged,



“Trust me, when there isn’t cold and snow it’s worse.”



“H-how c-could it b-be worse,” Diane asked… She looked gray and her teeth were chattering.



“When there isn’t s-snow they just use ice,” Joyce was trying valiantly to look unaffected. Sharon chose to emulate the more experienced BZ Sister. “You lay in this and they pour it over you.”



“T-this is g-going to k-kill me!” Diane stammered.



“You can always volunteer for the fun room.” Joyce shrugged. Her skin was heavily prickled by gooseflesh, and she shook her head, “I’m not doing that again.” She did not elaborate, and Sharon decided there were limits to what they were allowed to say; various Brothers were moving along the edge of the tub. Gavin sauntered over, leering down at Sharon,



“I thought you’d go all the way,” he taunted. She fought a sudden wave of shivering, then looked daggers up at him,



“I was about to say the same of you,” Gavin’s smile faded, but he did not get angry. He laughed.



“See how the other girls moved off, left you to yourself? You’re gonna get colder faster, now. Unless you want to come play with us while we wait.” Sharon could not imagine anything could be worse than what she had already done, but the cold had effectively shut down her arousal, and she smiled, shaking her head,



“Thanks, but I don’t think Monique and Kelly are going to be very long.” Looking around, Sharon saw Robin, huddled in the corner, looking more miserable than the others. “God, honey,” she murmured, paddling over to hug the younger woman, who was shaking violently, “Go let them play their games… at least you’ll get warm.” Robin shook her head spastically,



“I already d-did,” her lips were almost blue, “I-it w-was horrible… I-I h-had to b-beg them to l-let me c-come b-back out here.” Sharon hugged her, & Robin managed a feeble smile of thanks. There was a splash and a choking cough, and Sharon saw Keiko thrashing in the hot tub. “T-that’s n-not even the w-worst,” Diane chattered quietly, “T-they D-dP’d her under w-water until s-she p-passed out.” Despite the revulsion she felt at that, part of Sharon remembered the day Shaun had choked her as he was fucking her. Her clit pulsed slightly, despite he cold that seemed to be leaking into her very soul. She distracted herself by imagining what was happening inside… One or the other of the guys would get off… probably had gotten off by now. So did the remaining women fight over him, or was the woman that got the other guy off the winner… or was there a winner for the women? There had to be– Joyce had been the winner from last year. She ran the party back, tried to count how many of the Brothers had been inside of her. There was a spark of arousal, but she was still freezing.



Finally there was a ringing noise that grew louder until Dave was at the door, with a beaming Kelly on his arm.



“Gentlemen… servant elves, let me introduce you to this year’s queen elf: Kelly!” Sharon’s dance partner and lover offered a ‘Royal wave’ before they stepped to the side and a struggling, squealing Monique was carried bodily out the door and thrown into the big pool with the other shivering girls. “Leave the elves to learn the error of their ways,” Dave intoned with mock austerity, “All but the shepherds may return to celebrate.” Sharon moved over to Joyce as the majority of the guys went inside.



“Now what?” she asked. Joyce smiled,



“You were amazing, you know that? And still being the bad ass out here… I see why they wanted you.” Sharon blushed, but shrugged,



“Y-you’re a good role model.” Joyce obviously liked that.



“They won’t let any of us freeze… that’d be a bad thing and the last thing they want is drama.” She shivered slightly, “So they’ll come get us in a minute or two, and we’ll get to see what Kelly won, and then it’ll be the usual orgy.”

“I thought it’d already been the usual orgy,” Sharon smiled, and he clit twitched, making her shiver more than the cold water.



“Remember, this is the last crack they’ll get at us until next year,” Joyce shrugged, “You’ll go home walking bowlegged.” Sharon giggled, as there were jeers from inside the house.



“Hey, Rory?” Sharon batted her eyes at the freshman Brother who was closest. She could tell he was wishing he was inside. He turned his attention to her, and Sharon bit her lower lip, pitching her voice in the manner she had learned to use to coax men to take her back to the champagne room. “You look lonely… and we’re all so cold. If you wanted we could… start the celebration early…” Rory swallowed. Sharon could tell he wanted to, but he was worried what would happen to him. She lifted her torso out of the water, aware that her nipples were rock hard, her skin glowing as the water sluiced over her bare skin. “I know you want us to be able to give your Brothers a good time… if we get too cold out here…” Rory gave a bare nod and Sharon scrambled across to the edge near him, hands tearing at his zipper before he could change his mind.



She dove onto his swollen cock, feeling momentarily sorry for the boy, who obviously had not been able to enjoy any of the night’s festivities yet. She slurped and bobbed hungrily, fingering herself in tempo. Abruptly she was pushed to the side, and Joyce took over, winking at Sharon as she did so. Sharon slipped out of the tub, motioning for the others, to follow suit. Diane was the quickest to figure it out, and supplanted Joyce, who climbed out of the water to stand shivering beside Sharon. When Diane began to clamber out, Sharon and Joyce moved to the back steps. There was another cheer, and through the shifting crowd, Sharon saw her young lover bent forward at the waist, sucking on George’s cock as the heavy tattoo artist applied something to Kelly’s lower back.



Sharon was considering whether she and Joyce should return to the pool when several of the frat members noticed the increasing number of girls looking through the windows. Caught, Sharon froze in place, feeling an incredible relief when Shaun stepped in to view, still dressed in his Santa costume, and waved for them to enter. Giggling and shivering, none caring that they were dripping wet and naked in a room full of frat members, the vanquished BZ Sisters gratefully accepted mugs of spiked cider and hot chocolate as everyone enjoyed the aftermath of the party game. Sharon smiled when Shaun draped a muscular arm over her shoulders.



“I thought you were going to ruin it for me,” he teased.



“What do you mean?”



“If you’d climbed on I never would have been able to hold out. Monique’s great, but she just isn’t as… involved.” Sharon blushed, unable to meet Shaun’s gaze.



“I was hoping Dave would stop the music and let us…” Shaun laughed.



“And then when you let Kelly win, I thought Monique still might succeed.”



“So she didn’t?” Sharon felt a flush of arousal… Shaun had not cum yet?” The young man who had so thoroughly… and easily entrapped the white housewife smiled.



“Think you can help Santa out?” Sharon squealed, turning to throw herself onto Shaun, literally climbing him, rubbing her sex against the front of his red pants. The big frat member deftly climbed the stairs as Sharon went on dry humping him. He did not turn into his bedroom as she expected, though, instead entering the big conference room. He confidently moved to the same place where he had begun to break Sharon in a few months before. “You’re insatiable,” he teased, kissing the aroused white wife.



“Mm-hmmm… where you’re concerned. Fuck me, daddy!” Sharon urged, pushing at his shorts as he lay her on her back, “Give me your cock.” Shaun complied without hesitation. He had been spanking it throughout the day to delay his release and the planning was going to provide twice the benefit, he considered, leering down at the lust driven BZ Bitch. He stopped moving, and Sharon growled in protest, thrusting at him, hips pumping lewdly as she easily took his length.



“Damn, you’re amazing, Sharon,” Shaun praised, reaching down to tweak her nipples and tease her big, swollen clit. “So you’re glad we made you a Sister?” Sharon nodded, never slowing.



“God yes… So good… Good cock… Fuck me, daddy… Please give me your cock.” She batted her eyes like the trained sex worker she was, although Shaun was quite certain it was not just for show. Just as he felt her muscles going taut, he pulled out instead, chuckling at her whine of protest. When he waited without a word, the obedient little slut sat up to slurp at his cock. God, she was a talented cocksucker. He patted her head appreciatively, then pushed her away within a minute, still not speaking.



Sliding off of the table, Sharon spun, pushing her ass back at him, her hand slipping between her splayed thighs, catching him, pulling him into her sex again.



“Yesss!” she husked, pushing back, impaling herself and beginning to fuck herself on his immobile cock. He watched the reflection, enjoying the way she was bracing on the table to get more leverage, keeping her chest off of the table so that her breasts could sway. “God, so good!” Her body began to shudder visibly, “Cumming!” She twitched and shuddered, moaning loudly without ever slowing down.



Shaun lamented that the increased exercise was causing some shrinkage of her fine boobs, but knew that could be taken care of without a problem. Sharon moaned, eyes closed, head back, and redoubled her efforts when he spanked her ass sharply. He let her go on for another minute, and knew he could not hold off for very long, when he braced his hands on her muscular ass, insistently pushing her away, off of his jutting manhood. Sharon bit her lip, looking back over her shoulder in a deliciously endearing manner.



“Santa’s been working hard,” Shaun said, falling back into the overstuffed leather chair that was behind him. Smiling wickedly, Sharon advanced, straddling the chair arms and lowering her open, dripping sex onto his erect cock. Sighing, she slipped onto him fully before she began to rise and fall, hips shifting expertly. Shaun made no effort to touch the aroused wife, smiling because it felt great and because she was unwittingly putting on a great show for the holiday video. He managed to distract himself for a couple more minutes as he considered the economics of Sharon’s activities, and then it was time to cum. “Ready for your gift, Sharon Sobel?” the humping blonde did not register the use of her name. She nodded eagerly. “Where do you want it, little bitch?” Not that it mattered, but the audio was going to be great.



“Give it to me, daddy,” Sharon groaned, “Fill me up!”



“You’re not worried about a black baby? What would hubby say?”



“I don’t care!” her voice was almost a scream… she was close to her next climax, “Fuck me… give me your black cock… Give me your cum.” Shaun was ready. Jerking upright from the chair, impaling the smaller naked woman completely, Shaun stepped forward, easily laying her out on the table, her breasts sagging just slightly– sexily– to the sides as he held himself inside of her and began to cum. “Yesss!” she cried out, legs rising, heels hammering at his ass, cinching tight, holding him in place, “God, that feels good… making me cummm…” As her legs weakened, Shaun backed out, shifting to the side so that the cameras could catch his cum launching into her open sex, then drooling out as he continued to paint her spasming belly with the last of his load. When he was spent, he leaned forward, wiping the tip of his cock on the thin lines of pubic hair pointing to her still engorged clit. Sharon giggled, fingers beginning to smear his jism over her sex, absently bringing the fingers up every few seconds to lick them clean. Shaun collapsed back in the chair to watch until Dave knocked that they were ready.



“Thanks, my favorite little BZ Bitch,” Shaun patted Sharon’s bare knee as he stood, “But we need to get back down to the party… have some more presents to give out. Merry Christmas, Sharon.” Sharon smiled happily, pressing her hand against her sex.



“Mmmmm, thank you, Santa,” she sighed, “I hope we won’t have to wait until next Christmas to do that again.” Shaun laughed, then hurried down to the party, confident their prize Bitch would not be far behind. Sharon lay panting on the table, one hand idly teasing her ringed nipple, the other dragging strands of their mingled cum to her lips as she recovered. She had finally gotten off, and had gotten off repeatedly, but then she always did when Shaun was fucking her. She smiled absently, licked her lips, then sat up to look for her clothes, remembering after a moment that there had been no bottoms when she had come upstairs wrapped around the big BZ member. She looked around, seeing no cup, and headed to the door, muttering aloud, ‘time for another drink.’ The cameras would track the just fucked white housewife as she made her naked way down the stairs, giggling at the casual gropes and swats offered by passing frat members, clearly at ease with what had just happened… and what was certainly going to happen again.



Sharon laughed and almost eagerly made out with the ‘keeper of the bar’ for a big glass of the night’s drink. She liked the peppermint flavor and had quickly emptied three glasses between doing bong hits with the various brothers partying throughout the house. Like her, most of the girls were naked except for heels and the ‘elf hat’s they had been given. She was working on a fourth glass when she found Kelly laughing with Keiko and Melissa. The women welcomed Sharon as if they were long lost sisters, and she welcomed Kelly’s drunken but honest kiss before asking what the prize for being Mrs. Claus had been.



“Not Mrs. Claus,” Kelly slurred, “She’s a bitter shrunken thing. I’m the Elf Princess.” The others laughed again as Kelly turned, showing the shapely female elf– naked, of course– holding the requisite black mistletoe just above the waist. The ink was barely three inches tall, positioned between Kelly’s shoulder blades, below the ‘BT’ flag she had received at the first big frat party. Sharon wondered if they would be out of room for the decorations before they graduated, but she remembered Joyce, and decided most of that must happen when they were freshmen. She wondered what Joyce and the other upper class women did during the week, since she had not seen them around the frat, although she also had to admit she had not spent much time at the frat, either; maybe they were there every day during the week.



One of the brothers appeared with a bong and the women obediently did several hits before he wandered away. Unlike Halloween, when the sex had been non-stop, the guys seemed happy just talking and laughing, although Sharon saw several couples going up the stairs, then returning a few minutes later as she sat with the other women. She considered finding one of the upper class Sisters to ask what else was planned, but decided staying with the others was just fine… she would not do anything but sleep if she went back to the condo. And she was still more than a little horny, although she told herself it had to be just that she was used to using her body at that time of night, anyway, and that she was sitting naked with other beautiful naked girls, surrounded by virile young studs. Who would not be horny?!



The guys eventually interrupted the women’s conversations about what they were doing for the holiday, insisting that everyone go back out to the main room. Sharon shivered and enjoyed the familiar spasm of her clit as she saw that Shaun was back in his Santa costume… if Santa sat in his chair with his pants open and his cock ready to spear anyone sitting on his lap. Dave gestured and the BZ Sisters obediently lined up, taking turns approaching what looked like a set up in a mall… except that the photographer captured one lewd pose or another before Santa handed the BZ Bitch a package. The procession went by seniority, so Joyce led the way. Sharon watched, along with the others… The gifts included BZ jewelry and stencils for tattoos, sexy lingerie and sex toys. As George set to work inking the first of the girls that had opened a stencil, Sharon looked around nervously, wondering again how Chris would react if she kept coming home with more and more erotic ink.



She tried to see if the packages were random or if there were names… how did the Frat decide who got what? She stood in line nervously hoping Dave and Shaun would be careful not to giver her a ‘gift’ that would cause problems over the holiday. Kelly went ahead of her, and squealed when she opened a BZB tongue stud with a little latex ‘tickler’ that could be put over the bead. Sharon knew that her lover’s tongue was not pierced, and wondered if George would do that, too. She stepped up, having forgotten entirely that there would also be the ‘smile’ moment with Shaun. Seeing his cock glistening with the saliva and cream of the majority of her Sisters, Sharon momentarily forgot about her concerns, as something like jealousy spurred her to mount him facing the camera.



He made no effort to move, but that was fine with her, she expertly caught hold of his swollen glans, guiding him into her still wet seam. Pausing to be sure he was seated, Sharon settled fully, dropping her head back and moaning theatrically. Shaun went rigid under her and she smiled, aware that few men could last long when they were putting on a show for others. She lifted her head, tilted just so, and smiled at the camera as she lifted just enough to show the root of his big tool thrust up insid of her. He had caught her right hand, steadying her, and Sharon reached down, lewdly spreading her labia with the fingers of her left hand, never considering that showed her wedding ring.



The guys cheered, the camera flashed. Sharon released her pose, but began to ride Shaun up and down, leaning forward, her hands closing on his knees so she could get more leverage. She twitched her hips in a poor imitation of Joyce’s shimmy. The guys roared, laughing when the two BZ Brothers who had been ushering up the BZ Sisters for their photos bodily lifted Sharon off of Shaun.



“C’mon, little girl,” one of them chuckled, swatting Sharon’s ass when she protested, “You have to let the other kids see Santa too.” They passed a smiling Dave pausing as one asked,



“What’s so funny?” It took Dave a minute to get control of himself.



“I was just thinking about that scene in a Christmas Yarn,” he snorted, “If she’d kept it up much longer Shaun might have shot her eye out.” The guys laughed, and one collected the package Dave handed them, but Dave held up a hand, then pointed, and they dutifully set Sharon on wobbly legs beside him.



“Hold on, Kathy,” the red head had been preparing to sit on Shaun’s still turgid cock, “We have to see what Sharon Synn gets.” Sharon paid no attention to what he was saying, taking the package, which was about the same size as the one Kelly had opened. She tore open the package, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety seeing the earrings… large black diamonds with a smaller white diamond in front, dangling from a stylized ‘BZ’ intertwined silver lead. There was an envelope, too. “You might recall, or own house Bitch won an award recently, which qualified her for the AVN’s.” There were new cheers. “Now, we want to be sure that she can go to the awards, so there’s a plane ticket for next year.” He did not mention that the money had come from her winnings.



“We’ve also put away a special gift card,” Shaun had talked to him, and Dave had easily come up with a solution to the problem Shaun had noticed, also paid for by her winnings, “She’ll get the full treatment when she lands. What do you have to say, Sharon?” Still more than buzzed and tipsy, aware that she wanted to fuck some more, Sharon no longer remembered worrying about how Chris would react to new tattoos or piercings. She pirouetted, bending at the waist, aware that every guy was enjoying a look at her bare wet pussy. Blowing an exaggerated kiss to Shaun, she stood and waved to the rest before the others guided her into the hallway out of the sight of the main room.



Sharon fully expected one or both of the big men would want to have sex with her. She was mildly disappointed when they avoided the stairs and the hallway to the rec room, both places she would have expected to be humping soon. Instead, they moved to the next room. She could see Kelly and some of the others laughing around the bar, and smiled, interested in seeing some of the other girls’ gifts up close. She was surprised again when the young men did not turn, but instead herded her– still naked– toward the side door. She usually went out to the hot tub through the door farther to the rear of the house; the door they were approaching was by the sweeping circular drive. She balked,



“Uh, are we going out to the tub, guys?” One snorted.



“I wish.” Sharon realized both were freshmen… while she was available to them too, when the frat had things that needed doing, the freshmen got the call. “I’ll be sure to enjoy what Gavin enjoyed earlier, but it’ll have to be next year,” the more talkative of the pair assured her.



“Yep,” the second nodded.



“Well then where are we going?” Sharon clutched at the gifts Dave had given her, “Aren’t I supposed to get my tongue pierced?” Both guys shrugged.



“We’re not going anywhere,” the first guy stated. “But apparently you still have some work to do.” Sharon frowned, looking down again at her naked body.



“But Kelly’s in the kitchen…” she squealed as the door opened, “And I need clothes…” she stopped, recognizing Go’s sleek Caddy.



“Sorry, guess we forgot,” the quieter of the pair held out a festive mini dress made of the same thin green cotton as the strappy T and shorts she had worn earlier… the same as the hat she still wore. She swatted at the much bigger young man, snatching the dress and pulling it right over the stocking hat. Of course, it was tight, the scoop neck threatening to lose control of her breasts the moment she pulled it into place. The hem, cut to points and fringed with the faux white fur at matching the bottom of her stoking hat, hit barely below her sex, and the thin fabric seemed anxious to slip up, exposing her with every step. The young men were eyeing her greedily. “Damn, guess we should have had you put that on first.” He reached into the kitchen, grabbed the box she had been given during dinner and handed it to her.



“What about this” Sharon did not protest stepping onto the porch in almost nothing, clutching her presents. The room was spinning just a bit, so she leaned against the door frame. The first young man shrugged,



“Get it done over the holiday break,” he smiled at her, “And you can practice with it on me when you get back.” Sharon giggled,



“Just not in the tub,” then kissed each of the men on the cheek, which seemed to leave both feeling embarrassed. She giggled again, and let Go tuck her into the passenger seat of the car. She found herself hoping the big club owner would giver her his impressive bent cock when they got wherever they were going.



She was not really surprised when Go drove just the short distance to her home. In fact, she was glad, since he could be fucking her sooner. She snickered.



“What’s so funny?” Go asked her, “Are you supposed to be an elf?” She nodded.



“I’m high… I’m a high elf… wasn’t that in that Hobbit movie?” she giggled again, “That Aragorn was hot!” Go laughed.



“Trying to make me jealous?”



“Mmmm… not, you have a much better sword,” she pressed her right hand against her clit, anticipating the intense pulse, “I like it when you’re stabbing me with it,” she murmured, reaching over with her free hand, groping Go’s crotch. Go checked the dash… He was disappointed there was not enough time. But there was always when she was finished. “Will you come inside?” Sharon went on, head lolling. He wondered how much she had had to drink.

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