Chapter 7
Unlike Jennifer, Rev. Worthington, and myself, the rest of the Committee had apparently paid more attention to Linda Lovelace and company than each other.
And the result was outrage.
None of these ladies had known anything like this was being shown in their community. Now that they realized it, they wanted it stopped.
Since the police had already sanctioned the Committee for Decency as a watchdog against pornography, all we had to do was let them know how we felt about the program at the Fine Arts and they'd close it down. Needless to say, we exercised this option.
Later that week, when the story of the raid on the theater hit the newspaper, we were all as proud as we could be of ourselves. Immediately we began searching around for our next target.
The logical choice was the topless and bottomless nightclub industry that had been flourishing in the area for the past couple of years. These places were all around, some even being located right in the middle of shopping centers. They were perfect examples of the kind of thing the Committee was fighting against.
The only problem was that, with all the publicity from the closing of the Fine Arts, the owners of these disgusting joints were on guard against our crusade. If a bunch of us women showed up, they'd immediately clean up their act. Instead of catching the performers at their worst, we were liable to witness a show so artificially harmless that we wouldn't be able to get the police to do a thing.
In other words, the situation called for as much trickery from the Committee as our foes were capable of employing. Fighting fire with fire was the only way to wipe out smut in the long run.
"If we could only get one of our members inside one of those places," Rev. Worthington told a meeting of the Committee one afternoon, "we could get the goods on these people."
"But they have virtually no female clientele," somebody pointed out.
"What about Rev. Worthington himself?" somebody else asked. "After all, although he's a minister, he is a man nonetheless. Without his collar...."
"There's no way I could do it," the pastor interrupted. "My picture was in the paper as the head of this Committee when the story about the Fine Arts broke. I'm sure they have it posted in every porno parlor within a hundred miles."
"Then how can we get somebody inside?" Jennifer Warren asked. "What you seem to be saying so far is that we're licked."
"Don't bet on it," I coolly stated, causing all eyes to look my way.
"Do you have a plan, Mrs. Edwards?" Rev. Worthington asked.
"Yes," I firmly said. "All it requires is a little guts."
"What is it?" several people asked in unison.
"These nude dancing joints are going to be on the look-out for suspicious customers, right?" I reasoned. "So we let them keep right on looking. Maybe even send in a couple of people who are so obvious they can be detected right away."
"But what will that accomplish?" Rev. Worthington wanted to know.
"For one thing, it'll lure the owners into a false sense of security," I said. "For another thing, it'll mean they probably won't be checking up on infiltration from the other end of their operation."
"I don't get it," the reverend said, several members of the Committee indicating they were equally in the dark.
"Simple," I stated. "If these people are busy checking out customers, and patting themselves on the back because they've detected some ringers, they're not going to be paying much attention to their employees."
"Their employees?" several women, along with Rev. Worthington, gasped.
"Precisely," I continued. "They'll never suspect that the person getting the goods on them might be one of their own kind."
"You mean, Mrs. Edwards," Rev. Worthington said, "that you think we ought to approach some creature who works in one of these establishments and persuade her to work with us?"
"Better than that," I replied evenly. "I'm suggesting that we leave nothing to chance. We won't have to persuade anybody to cooperate with us if the employee is one of us to begin with."
Now they were really going around in circles. Of course, what I was saying should have become obvious, but they just didn't want to admit it.
"One of us will get a job at one of these places," I spelled it out for them. "The owners'll never believe we'd have that much nerve, and the evidence we get will be solid as a rock."
"But who ... wh-who ... would volunteer to do such a degrading thing?" Rev. Worthington asked incredulously.
"You're looking at her," I responded without batting an eyelash.
"But ... but ... the debasement you'll have to go through," he pointed out. "It will be a humiliating experience for a woman of your moral and ethical background."
"In this case the means justifies the end," I reminded them all of the crucial purpose for which the Committee for Decency had been formed. "I don't see any other alternative if we all truly believe this filth should be wiped out."
"All right, Mrs. Edwards," Rev. Worthington concluded after a long, reflective pause. "If you're willing to make this sacrifice, then the Committee is behind you 100%."
The place I picked to go undercover was a sleazy dive in an outlying shopping center called the Boom Boom Room. It had garish signs all around the premises advertising "Live Sex Shows!"
Its location, right in the midst of a commercial area where mothers brought their children to shop, was almost enough to make me sick. However, I suppressed my nausea and walked inside.
Realizing I had to play a part to get anywhere, once I was inside the door I'd become a different person than Sara Edwards, respectable wife and mother. "My name is Daisy Carter," I told the first person I encountered. "I need work, and I'll do anything to get it."
"Well, well," the guy said, "that's interesting. Do you know what kind of place this is?"
"You better believe it," I shot back.
"And you'll do anything?"
"Anything."
"Far out," he said. "It just so happens we're short a girl. You're hired. Be here tonight at eight."
"Don't you want to see my body?" I asked, certain I'd have to strip.
"I'll take your word for it that it's in good working order," he said. "Just bring it with you tonight."
I couldn't believe how easy it had been to get on the inside at the Boom Boom Room. My spirits were so up that I didn't even consider what I might have to do when I reported for work at eight.
However, my return visit to the Boom Boom Room brought me back to reality. The first time I'd been there the place had been empty. Now, at night, it was filled with a noisy crowd of beer-guzzling men. All of their attention was focused on a small stage on which a totally naked girl was spread-eagling herself. Her cunt was as wide open as a manhole.
"Is that what I'm going to have to do?" I asked the guy I'd talked to during the afternoon.
"Naw," he answered. "Myrtle is just an opening act. Strictly warm-up. If she tried to do anything more complicated than spread her pussy she'd fall down and break her leg."
"Then what do you have in mind for me?"
"The closing spot," he said.
"But how do you know I'll be any good?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
"Because you said you'd do anything," he replied matter-of-factly, and then walked away.
While I waited to be called for my act, I wandered around the club, gathering in evidence that I would later turn over to the Committee. Needless to say, in a place like the Boom Boom Room, there was plenty to be gathered.
It was like a totally different world than the one which I was used to. When I'd walked through the front door I'd left a familiar universe and entered a totally alien one.
Here, sex was all that mattered. It was the only need to which the inhabitants related.
Bulging cocks were in evidence in tight crotches all over the place. Every customer seemed to have a boner. In fact, a few of them were even outside their trousers, their owners uncontrollably masturbating from the excitement at the spread-legged filth they were ogling.
At the same time, sharp-eyed B-girls cruised the premises, looking for men with enough money in their pockets to have their hard-ons manipulated to orgasm by someone other than themselves. More than once I slipped on a fresh slick of recently spilled semen.
As the evening progressed, the rawer things became. The dancers on stage became dirtier and dirtier, and the audience response to them became more and more blatant. Hand-jobbing and cock-sucking seemed to be going on under practically every table. More than once I saw one of the B-girls throw her head back to laugh and have a glob of left-over cum spill from the corner of her mouth.
Then the dancer who had been impaling her cunt with the leg of a chair left the stage and an intermission began. Needless to say, the crowd, at a peak of horniness, didn't like the delay.
"Come on, come on," one after another would yell, "start the action!"
I was getting pretty curious myself about what was taking so long when a rough hand suddenly gripped my shoulder. Looking around in alarm, I found myself staring at the guy who'd hired me instead of the drunken customer I'd anticipated.
"Hey, baby, let's go," he said urgently. "You're on next."
"You mean it's me they're waiting for?" I gulped.
"Nobody else," he answered. "Right now you're the Queen of Show Business. Now get backstage and strip. Your partner's waiting for you."
"But what am I supposed to do?" I asked as he hustled me to the front of the club.
"I don't have time" to explain it," he said, leading me into the wings at the side of the stage. "Joe'll show you the ropes."
"Joe?"
"Yeah, there his is."
He pointed to a tall, muscular man with fearsome looking tattoos decorating his arms. His chest was dense with black curly hair. ' The man was nude. Protruding from between his legs was the biggest hard-on I'd ever seen in my life.
The guy who'd hired me left my side and went over and whispered something in Joe's ear. Then Joe turned toward me with a big smile on his craggy face and said, "So you're the girl I'm going to fuck. Let's get started, I've got a late date tonight."
I almost passed out. However, even if I had, I wouldn't have fallen to the floor. The several busy hands that were hurriedly undressing me because I was too stunned to do it myself would have propped me up.
Joe went out on stage first. The horny crowd cheered his hard-on the way a political convention would have cheered their Presidential nominee. Then I followed. Not because I wanted to, but because I was pushed.
There I was, stark naked, on stage with a man who expected to fuck me in front of an audience of drunken sex maniacs. There was nowhere to go ... no route for escape.
If I disappointed this crowd, it was clear they'd tear me to pieces.
I'd gotten myself into this, and now there was only one way to get out of it. I was too far in it to back out now. The choice was clear-I had to fuck Joe.
Deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible, I astonished myself by making the first move. While Joe was still taking the bows for the throbbing monstrosity poking from his loins, I walked over to where he was standing, dropped to my knees, and cupped his heavy balls in my hands.
Once I had his nuts in my grip, his prick started to do what I wanted it to. By stretching the skin of his scrotum I made it stop twitching all over the place, guiding it on a straight line toward my parted lips.
Just before I closed my mouth over the crown, I took one last look at the entirety of what I had taken upon myself to devour. Beheve me, I was impressed with my own courage.
It was a blue-veiner ... and then some. The blood had to flow through vessels the size of viaducts to bloat an organ to that size.
With an ordinarily endowed co-star, I'd have been able to spread my legs, fuck without any preparation or fanfare, and get off the stage. In this situation, however, such single-mindedness was not the shortest distance between two points.
I could have never taken Joe's bludgeon in my normal-sized cunt-hole without extensive lubrication. Since the only resource I had available was my own saliva, I'd have to permit him to fuck me in the mouth before I could unleash him between my legs.
You can imagine how difficult it was for a woman with my solid moral background to kneel nude on a stage before a screaming crowd of perverts and eat inch after inch of stiff cock.
But I did it. And not primly. No, I couldn't afford to just go through the motions. Holding back would just haunt me later. My gobbling had to be the real thing. After all, the whole purpose of it was to get his huge cock wet enough to make the eventual plunge up my pussy bearable.
So that meant sucking ... Slurping ... Squishing.
Forcing the spit to flow from the nooks and crannies of my oral cavity until his enormous tool was drenched, livery inch of it.
It would be no good unless I swallowed the entire cock. The whole hard-on. To the absolute hilt. Down to the balls.
Joe may have been an experienced sex performer, but it was clear after I'd mouth-fucked him halfway down his root that he'd never had a partner like me. By now his flashy stage presence had dissolved and he was whimpering like a baby. It was clear that nobody had ever eaten him so deeply as this, let alone all the way.
Well, I was going to gobble his throbber to the ultimate or not at all. I'd show Joe and all the rest of these arrogant male jerks once and for all that a woman was more than just a lump of passive meat.
Sucking, sucking, sucking, I captured inch after inch of hard-on phallic victory. My mouth was like a determined army, advancing despite all adversity onto alien territory.
I knew I was really making progress when Joe's whimpering changed to groaning. He must have felt like his cock was being pulled down a garbage disposal.
He cried out in surrender. Inside, I just laughed. No mercy would be shown until my lips and teeth were nibbling triumphantly against those hairy balls of his.
The crowd was going crazy. Previously I had ignored their presence. However, now their excitement started to feed my frenzy. With each successive inch of phallic insertion in my mouth, I took my strength from them.
"Suck him!" somebody yelled. "Get down on that cock all the way!"
"Oh, baby, fuck him with your mouth!"
"Take that monster whole!"
I began to feel the way O.J. Simpson must have felt the day he was on the verge of rushing for 2,000 yards. Every advance I made with my mouth on Joe's gigantic boner made me determined for more.
Joe was quivering, on the brink of collapsing. I had to shove my hands under his ass and gouge my fingers into his buns to keep him propped up.
The cue-ball sized head of his dick had engorged my throat almost from the beginning. Now, with only a few inches to go before I'd eaten him all the way, the damn bulb was practically down in my stomach. I felt like I'd swallowed a boa constrictor.
"Please, no more!" Joe suddenly shrieked. "I can't take any more of your mouth!"
The audience immediately booed him. Guys left their tables and ran up to the stage, making it clear they'd physically hold Joe in place if he tried to escape.
Confident that I had my quarry irrevocably in my trap, I caught my breath through my flaring nostrils. I could afford to take a rest ... take my time. Be at my best for the final push.
The audience was willing to wait. They were on my side. Maybe a hundred horny men were in the palm of my hand.
Okay, now I was ready. Ready for The Big Suck.
The saliva churned in the bottom of my mouth. When it was good and thick, I pushed it toward my lips. Then, as the spittle drooled from the corners of my mouth, I knew I had manufactured enough lubrication to make the final slide.
They must have been able to hear the slurp all the way to the rear of the building as I drove my mouth forward with a single lurching thrust. The excess spit sprayed in the air and dripped from my face.
I'd closed my eyes for the final effort. Now, when I opened them, there was no more cock. Only a patch of pubic hair bristling before my eyes.
I wiggled my hips ... Mmmmmmm.
Yes, I knew that sweet taste and soft feel. Balls. I was nuzzling balls.
It had been like swallowing a sword, but I had done it. I had succeeded. I had eaten every inch of his cock!
"Make him come!" somebody screamed.
"Yes, yes!" several others yelled.
This hadn't been my original intention. However, I'd never expected the standing ovation I was now getting.
The cheers of the crowd were like a powerful drug. When I'd began, I'd hated the noise. Now, with its encouragement ringing in my ears, I felt I couldn't do enough to please the sweaty mob.
"Make him come! Make him come! Make him come!" they chanted over and over again.
I would, Goddamn it, I would. I would make this bastard come! Not until his hot jizz had filled my belly would I be satisfied.
It was like running my lips over a double-edged blade, but I sucked the way I had to. Produced the friction that was needed to draw the spunk everybody in the Boom Boom Room was eagerly awaiting.
Suck ... suck ... suck ... suck . ... Slurp ... slurp ... slurp ... slurp . ... It sounded like waves lapping against coastal rocks.
I squeezed his balls, stuck a finger up his greasy asshole and poked his prostate. Let my hot spit drool down his loins so it burned him like liquid fire.
"Come, you bastard!" the audience raucously echoed my thoughts. "Come in her mouth, you son of a bitch!"
Joe was practically unconscious on his feet. Fortunately, however, his serpentine cock still had a mind of its own. It seemed to hiss in the depths of my gullet. Then it jerked ... spasmed ... lurched ... thrust. Yes, thrust. Thrust an incredible extra inch to the pit of my being and abruptly exploded.
The cum seemed to fill me instantaneously. In a second it was gushing out of my mouth as fast as it was filling my stomach. The stage was as awash with it as my belly was full of it.
Then the pressure became too much and I was thrown halfway across the stage. Landing on my ass with my legs spread, I felt the goo rushing from my gaping mouth as though I were vomiting. The audience could not have been more pleased.
When I finally looked up I saw Joe crumpling to the floor like a vanquished warrior. His once formidable prick seemed like a broken spear as it dangled between his trembling flanks.
I tried to get up, but I kept slipping in the cum.
I felt like I was in a mud-bath. My body was covered with the sticky stuff.
Finally I made it to my feet. Tottering to the fallen Joe, I stood over him like the survivor of a double knockdown. The audience picked up the imagery also, and began a chanting count to ten.
"One ... two ... three...."
He stirred. At first I thought he was going to rise. Then, when I saw the twisted expression on his pained face, I realized he was ready to quit.
"Five ... six ... seven...." the crowd continued their drone.
As soon as they reached ten, I could just walk off the stage with nothing further required of me. Not only would I have the mob's cheers ringing in my ears, I would have enough evidence against the Boom Boom Room to have the place closed forever.
However, the excitement had reached such a fever-peak that my head was not into such simple logic.
"Nine...." the crowd intoned the number before it was all over.
There was only one way to stave off the climactic digit that would bring this bizarre chapter of my life to a close. Impulsively taking that route, I abruptly dropped to the floor, cutting off the count just before it reached its final cadence.
Joe and I were equals once again. Two nude bodies wallowing on our hands and knees in the sloppy quicksand of too-much cum.
Let's face it. I just couldn't bring myself to say good-bye to the most recognition I'd ever received in my life. The self-appointed role of censor could never provide me with the instant-gratification I was capable of deriving from being a stage-fucker.
Yes, my desire was crystal-clear to me now. No matter how exhausted Joe's cock was, I wanted that big piece of meat inside my cunt, showing off for the cheering crowd.
The show must go on!
"Don't worry," I screamed to the mass, seizing Joe's meat and steering it toward my now open twat, "I'll make him hard again!"
Their rocking cheers were music to my ears. Nothing could stop me now. Not even my native decency. In this isolated time-frame, there was no past or future. All I knew for now was that I wanted to degrade myself. Fuck a giant cock because that's what my cunt was made for.
I was a woman. Women fuck!
Pulling Joe on top of me, I used my fingers to cram his pliant prick-flesh between the gaping lips of my spread-legged pussy. Fortunately, his tool was so big, it didn't have to be hard to get it inside a willing twat.
Then, when I had several inches stuffed inside me, I played my hole-card, if you'll pardon the pun. Unleasing my cunt muscles, I grabbed his cock within my loins and began violently jerking it.
Joe moaned piteously from the pressure. I'm sure that in his head he just wanted to go home and crawl into bed. However, at the crux of his loins, his phallic blood vessels were independent of his brain cells.
The chafing friction I applied with my tight cunt was too much for even the tiredest prick to resist. Sooner or later it would have to get hard.
When I felt his cock finally stiffening inside my spasming pussy, I immediately threw my legs around his waist and pulled him toward me. That sent the head of his tool smashing against the puckering nodule of my cervix, which provided the equivalent of several hundred volts of electricity blasting through his fat wire to his fuck-center.
Inevitably, his dick hardened even more. It was almost three-quarters strength by now.
I reached down and grabbed his balls. While squeezing them, I shot my index finger between the underside of his cheeks and found his asshole. By the time I had penetrated it past the last knuckle, Joe's cock was like a rock. A complete hard-on once again.
Suddenly we were fucking. My cunt was split by a pumping cock. The penetration was so deep my eye-teeth were tingling.
The audience was going crazy.
I was going crazy.
Resurrected from the living dead, even Joe was acting like a madman.
"Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me!" I screamed to the rafters. "Come in my cunt!"
Joe pumped. He pistoned. His cock surged so far up my pussy that his balls were bruising against my tender groin.
We'd swiveled around on the stage so the audience could see everything. No heads ... no faces. Just cock and cunt. Fucking! Fucking to the core!
The crowd had been raising the roof with their cheering. Then, abruptly, they stopped. It was so quiet in there you could hear a pin drop.
They knew what was about to happen.
A long, spurting hiss shattered the silence. The hiss of Joe's immense hard-on coming inside my cunt.
Then the mob broke loose in a voyeuristic ecstasy. They'd seen it happen and they loved it. Loved the sight of the corners of my twat bubbling with sperm. My thighs suddenly glistening with excess jizz.
I was woman as they thought she should be-stuffed with cock, and slick with cum.
As I bucked insanely on the stage, I couldn't help but agree.