Chapter 2
The boyish-looking, impeccably uniformed chauffeur brought the custom-made canary yellow Rolls to a sudden halt. I was so busy taking in the beautiful, expensive looking, high-rise apartment building we had stopped in front of, that I was thrown off balance and slid from the deep leather seat onto the thickly carpeted floor. The chauffeur looked around and snickered at my ridiculous position, but I noticed his shifty eyes giving the lengthy swell in my khakis the once-over.
"Go see that guy," he indicated in an insolent tone, as he reached over the front seat and opened my door from the inside.
I climbed out of the limousine, slamming the door behind me, and walked toward the gaudily dressed negro doorman. The powerful motorcar glided smoothly away and down into the underground garage.
Not even bothering to get up off his stool, the doorman pointed one long brown finger in the direction of the tall shiny brass entrance doors. "Penthouse," he mumbled lazily, and reached over for the wall phone. I noticed his eyes opened wider as they lit on the protruding lump between my legs.
Hurrying into the entrance, I tiptoed through the deeply carpeted, crystal chandeliered foyer and over to the glass enclosed elevator. I stepped inside and pushed the "Penthouse" button. As the muzak-filled cage shot upward toward the twentieth floor, I quickly checked over my muscular physique in the mirrored door. Everything looked O.K. from clean white t-shirt to skintight properly bulging khakis. In no time, we reached the top floor and the doors parted automatically.
Facing me, only inches from the door, stood a smiling, pear-shaped little woman of about fifty with abnormally large pop-eyes. She gawked unashamedly at the lump formed by my thick penis outlined to midway down my thigh. Her round doughy face was heavily made-up, and the nostrils of her bulbous little nose fluttered excitedly. Her fat neck, ears, flabby arms, wrists, and fingers were covered with expensive jewelry. An elaborately pearl-embroidered full-length florescent chartreuse gown was draped over her dumpy figure like a sack. I bit my lips to keep from smiling as I took in the final touch her obviously dyed jet blue-black hairdo was topped with a glittering diamond tiara. Apparently, she had put it on in a hurry since it was tilted off center heavily to the side and made her look a little tipsy.
"Well, handsome, Anytime wasn't lying when Mr. Ken promised you'd be equipped to handle any size position. So just drop your duds over there in the hall closet, and let's see what you look like in your 'uniform,' " Mrs. Rigsby giggled, her bulging eyeballs alight with curiosity looked about ready to pop.
I walked over the deeply piled oriental rug, opened the closet, and looked into the well-lit interior. It was already filled with an array of multi-colored rich looking fur wraps. Hurriedly, I kicked my loafers off, yanked my t-shirt over my head and slipped out of my pants, rolling them up into a ball and tossing them on top of my shoes. Closing the door, I swung around dramatically and faced Mrs. Rigsby, my heavily veined organ and loosely hanging balls bouncing to and fro like a pendulum, until they came to a stop between my hairy thighs.
"Sensational absolutely sensational!" Mrs. Rigsby applauded wholeheartedly, her bejeweled hands jangling together noisily. "Remind me to give you an extra bonus just for giving this tired old heart an extra flutter," she winked, patting her bosom. "Now, hon, just go through that doorway there, and ask for Yetta Mae. She'll take care of you." And with a quick about face, Mrs. Rigsby disappeared through another door, which must have led to the living room since I could hear electric guitars being tuned up and the sound of chattering voices.
Following her directions, I found myself in a large and spotless ultra modern kitchen. A tall, slender, ebony black young negro, dressed in an immaculately white chefs uniform, and a seductive, curvaceous coffee-with-cream colored girl, attired as a maid, stood with their backs to me, giggling and sampling some of the elaborately displayed hors d'oeuvres lined up in lavishly filled trays.
The girl dressed as a maid turned around casually to see who it was. When she spotted my heavy joint in full view, she almost choked. I was as startled as she was as I gazed back at her awe-struck. Two gigantic tits practically fell out of her low-cut blouse, as she leaned over, coughing uncontrollably, covering her full-lipped mouth with one dainty hand. The friendly chef looked up and down my powerfully molded nudity with an amiable kind of curiosity.
"Oh, wow, do you turn me on, honey!" the girl exclaimed, wiping her mouth with one arm, and wiggling her cute rear end as she rushed over, her soft hands groping for my immense cock, pulling and squeezing it eagerly. I gasped.
"I sure dig 'em hairy," she grinned, moving one hand down and caressing the hanging tender scrotum. "Isn't he outta sight, Felix?"
"Do you like sepia sweethearts, stud?" the chef asked in a genuinely warm and friendly voice. He stepped between us, and reaching with one large black hand into her straining blouse, he pulled out one enormous creamy tan colored breast. His fingers held up the titanic orb temptingly, and circled the luscious caramel brown nipple, fully the size of a silver dollar. "Yetta Mae measures forty-four inches around her bust, and man, she'll give you the greatest ride you've ever had!" he promised wickedly, rubbing the big round nipple against my thickly blonde chest sensuously.
I just stood, open-mouth and stunned, taken back by this surprise onslaught.
Just then, the kitchen door swung open and
Mrs. Rigsby entered, her jewelry jangling. Yetta Mae and Felix pulled away nonchalantly, Yetta Mae casually stuffing her giant boob inside the undersized blouse. They obviously didn't fear her.
"All right kids, let's get a move on," Mrs. Rigsby said, sizing up the situation and eyeing my dangling instrument approvingly. "My morbid relatives are ready for chow, naturally, so let's feed their fat faces. As soon as they evaporate, we can really start a little hell raising of our own and get this party on the road, huh? Now where's Priscilla, that damn niece of mine? I told her I needed her to greet her guests." Slapping her fat hand to her forehead in mock anguish, Mrs. Rigsby exited, muttering to herself.
Felix and Yetta Mae went back to work organizing the appetizers efficiently.
"Who's this Priscilla?" I asked innocently, gazing hungrily at the delicious, but unrecognizable hor d'oeuvres piled up before me.
They glanced over, surprised, then looked at each other knowingly.
"I might as well give you the lowdown, sexpot, before you get it from that bunch of phony hangers-on out there," Yetta Mae eyed me, then gestured conspiratorially to come over to her side. "What's your name anyway, beautiful?"
"Ken," I smiled. As I stood next to her, I watched intrigued as she took hold of my lengthy shaft and carefully placed it horizontally across the end of the empty tray.
"No bullshit, Kenny boy, Priscilla is a 'he' who was turned into a 'she' in Scandinavia last year," Yetta Mae daintily arranged various delicacies around my extended pole which still lay flaccid on the surface of the silver tray.
"Uh-huh, and Consuela has sunk a lot of moola into that soft-headed dum-dum to change 'him' into a 'her,' and now, we're having this funky 'coming out' party to introduce this freak chick to society properly. That's heavy, man. Too much!" Felix shook his head confused, as he started to uncork the first of dozens of champagne bottles lined up on the serving counter.
"I hate to admit my ignorance, cats, but what is all this crap?" I asked anxiously, waving my hand toward the beautifully decorated food. "Christ, what if some dude out there asks me what all these little shitty turds are?"
"Hey, man, they're just classic canapes," Felix answered, a little impatient with my bewilderment. "The triangles are smoked salmon decorated with butter; the squares are caviar on toast; the round ones are fois gras on bread, and the diamond slices are Bayonne ham dig?"
"Get your gorgeous ass out there right now, kid. After the hors d'oeuvres, you still have to serve the champagne and the main entree. So get busy!" Yetta Mae turned me around toward the door leading into the living room and pushed.
Balancing the heavily loaded tray with my stretched out limp rod halfway across it, I pressed its silver edge carefully against the swinging door and prepared to shove my way through into the living room.
Suddenly, without warning, the door flew open in my direction, forcing the tray violently into my balls, and then over backwards, splattering my nudity with all six dozen classic canapes. The imagine hor d'oeuvres were smeared all over my carcass from chest to thigh in a mess of dripping caviar and gooey liver paste. I winced as a terrific pain shot through my groin, my heavy nuts throbbing in protest.
"Kee-rist!" I yelled in pain, and then tried to regain my cool as I gingerly wiped the sticky drippings off my hairy belly and chest. My hand itched to caress my aching privates.
For a few minutes, all my attention was concentrated on cleaning the food off my body, but a high shrill laugh in my ears forced me to look up. I was face to face with the cause of my embarrassment a doll-sized honey-blonde with long silken hair cascading softly over wide, boyish shoulders. She held one dainty, well-manicured hand over her mouth as she laughed so hard at my discomfort, that her sparkling diamond necklace and earrings danced up and down, and her well formed titties almost bounced out of her low cut, mini skirted evening dress. In spite of the obvious feminine mannerisms, her small lean hips and knotted baseball calves, which tensed as she stood in her high heeled pumps, looked suspiciously male. Even more suspicious was the dark shadowy stubble peeking through her overly made-up face.
"Dammit, Priscilla! Now look what you've done, girl," Yetta Mae scolded, as she and Felix rushed about scraping the scattered and splattered hor d'oeuvres off the floor, replacing them on the tray. "These mother canapes are absolutely ruined! And they're so bloody expensive!"
"Is that all you're worried about?" I yelled in a fury, clumsily picking sticky black globules of caviar out of my wiry crotch hair. "What about me?"
Yetta Mae and Felix looked up at me as if I were a stranger, obviously annoyed at my protests.
"Eeeeeeeek! A monster!" Priscilla cried out in shock surprise as her heavily lashed china blue eyes lit on my thick hose still dripping with foodstuffs. Her movements were so slow and dopey, I suspected she was stoned stupid on grass.
"Hey, I dig the psychedelic fingerprinting!" she hiccupped, reaching out with one brightly painted red nail and scraping a tiny morsel of caviar from my dangling fullness. She sucked her finger with delicious noises, her long, sinuous tongue darting in and out of her ruby red overly painted shiny lips. "Hmmmmmm, good! That's really a collector's item you got there, sweetiepie. Now I know what they mean when they say, 'it's what's up front that counts,' " Priscilla doubled up in glee, absolutely gassed at her own joke, and almost fell over, teetering tipsily on her wobbling high heels.
"Now Miss Priscilla, you know damn well Aunt Consuela is waiting for you to help entertain your guests," Yetta Mae spoke to her as if she were a naughty little girl, and started cleaning the mess off the kitchen floor with a large dish towel.
"Fuck those stuck-up bitchin' leaches!" Priscilla bawled loudly enough to be heard in the next room. "That bunch of piss elegant old vultures only came because of auntie's free food and drinks. The generation gap out there is wider than your snatch, Yetta. Those old farts can't wait to split as soon as we've filled their beefy-faced garbage disposals."
"Don't get uptight now, baby doll," Felix interceded, as he stood quietly at the serving counter arranging another silver tray with more fresh canapes. "That's just what this rented dude
"And that's why your dear auntie wanted you at the door, princess," Yetta Mae chimed in soothingly, as she casually wiped off my food stained massive biceps and steel hard stomach with the grimy dish towel. "By the way, this hung hustler here was hired tonight as your surprise 'coming out' gift."
"Are you ready for that?" Priscilla gasped incredulously, as her baby blue saucer eyes finally took in the full glory of my stupendous organ. Without wasting a minute, she let out an earsplitting war whoop not at all lady-like and plunged for the kill! Blase as I am, I gasped in surprise as Priscilla fell to her knees, thrust her head forward, stuck out a tongue like an anteater, opened her mouth wider than seemed possible, and slurped up my "prize package" with one greedy gulp, her long fingernails digging sharply into my hairy thighs. I groaned one long groan as her pleasure-giving tongue swirled and sucked up my lengthening dick with relish.
"Not now, princess later!" Yetta Mae struggled to pull Priscilla off my glistening monstrosity. Very reluctantly, Priscilla gave up her delicious prize, inch by inch by inch.
"Here you go, buster," Felix ordered, shoving a freshly loaded tray under my shiny stiffness. My mind whirling, I automatically grabbed the silver tray. Motioning for Priscilla to get out of the way, Felix walked behind me, and with both his big hands, shoved me with all his might right through the swinging door!
Trying to keep my balance, I yelped in panic as I flew past Yetta Mae and Priscilla through the door, like a battering ram and smack into the living room. The stacks of canapes bounced and jiggled, and right in the middle of the tray loomed a long shiny, wet apparition my throbbing bright pink prick in full erection.
"Oh, there you are, hon," Mrs. Rigsby greeted me casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be served by a nude waiter with a stiff cock. She was holding court in the middle of a group of elderly guests, obviously relatives, who sat in one long deadly serious line on a jumbo sized, expensive looking sofa. They were trying hard to look at ease in the aristocratic surroundings, but, by their uneasy behavior and tacky looking, small town dress up clothes, it was apparent that they were out of their element. Their faces showed their annoyance with the earsplitting music coming from the teenage rock band playing wildly in the opposite corner of the lavish penthouse living room.
"You may start serving these folks first, if you please," Mrs. Rigsby ordered, her voice full of contempt as she rolled her pop-eyes in derision. Then without further ado, she walked away and joined the kooky looking mixture of younger people, mostly dressed in mod, way-out bizarre fashions, gyrating to the zonky soul sounds of the rock beat. I looked over enviously, wishing I could pass up the grim bunch on the couch and start serving the younger crowd right away. In their flamboyant, brightly colored clothes, they frugged away, silhouetted against the backdrop of the enormous floor to ceiling window which looked out onto a terrace, and beyond that, to a fantastic bird's-eye view of the entire city twenty stories below. The only thing to do was to feed the old buzzards fast, and then really get started with Mrs. Rigsby's promised hell-raising 'coming out' party.
"Feeding time at the zoo," I heard a hot whisper in my ear, and looked around just in time to see Priscilla shove her hand up the warm crevice between my firmly shaped buttocks. I winced, but tried not to show my surprise as she poked one sharply pointed fingernail up to the knuckle inside my tightly constricted rectum. I gave her a dirty look, but, wild character that she was, Priscilla only giggled uproariously in that high-pitched, irritating shrill way that was beginning to drive me up the wall. The old crowd, all nine of them, turned their sagging faces as if on cue toward us, as Priscilla's laughter still rang out. By now, I stood directly in front of them with my tray before me. Nine pairs of eyes bulged and ogled in disbelief at the sight of my massive hard-on throbbing in rhythmic pulsations between the caviar and the pate de foie gras.
Priscilla had maneuvered me almost into the lap of a wrinkly suburbanite-type lady, who was backing off, terrified at my upright quivering weapon. I smiled at her invitingly.
"Try this delicious looking tidbit, Grandma Agatha. The one right here next to this large hairy covered testicle," Priscilla purred sweetly. Then she daintily picked up the choice morsel, making sure she had rubbed it firmly against my loosely hanging sac, and presented it with a flourish to the disgruntled old woman who took it as gingerly as if she were picking up a dead mouse.
"Uh, thank you, Priscilla," Grandma Agatha murmured, trying desperately not to show her distaste, her eyebrows raised so high, they threatened to vanish under her hairline. "You're certainly looking pretty as a picture," she lied, as she furtively folded the hors d'oeuvre in her napkin. By now, her eyes were riveted on my heavily veined, still one hundred per cent steel hard erection.
"Push on," Priscilla ordered nonchalantly, as we moved over to a spaniel eyed, big jowled senior citizen, whose face was beet red with embarrassment. He didn't even dare look at my menacing flagpole.
Suddenly, the noise of loud clapping came from the young crowd of dancers at the other end of the room as Yetta Mae entered carrying a large silver tray filled with glasses of sparkling champagne. In seconds, the tray was empty, and everyone was drinking and toasting Priscilla. I looked over wishing I could join the fun and games. Priscilla pinched me painfully on my left ass cheek to get my mind back on my work.
"Ouch, you little freak!" I cried involuntarily, and then caught myself short.
Ignoring my insult, Priscilla slowly and studiously surveyed the display of canapes. "Now, let's see. What special treat shall I pick for grandpa just to show there's no ill feelings because of the malicious gossip he spread about my sex-switch?" I looked over at grandpa who was stubbornly resisting even a blink in our direction.
By now, the attention of the oldsters was concentrated on Priscilla and her nasty little game. Loving every minute of it, Priscilla carefully picked up a diamond shaped piece of toast covered with Bayonne ham and placed it exactly on top of my fat, round cockhead. To make sure it wouldn't slide off, she cemented it down with a big glob of sweet butter.
"Just for you, grandpa," Priscilla almost drooled, rubbing her bejeweled hands together, taking childish delight in her little joke. "Here pick it up!"
Sighing in resignation and not wanting to make a scene, grandpa reached over blindly, not even looking, and grabbed both the ham covered bread and the upper third of my butter smeared peter.
"Ick!" grandpa cried, absolutely aghast as he drew his hand back and wiped his greasy fingers on his coat lapels. Both Priscilla and I really cracked up, howling and cackling. Embarrassed, but anxious to retrieve his dignity, flush faced grandpa reached over again, and skillfully dodging my dick this time, managed to snag the hors d'oeuvre which had fallen off my bell-like cocktip and was now nestled in the cradle of my two balls.
"O.K., that's enough of this shit with the social security squad!" Priscilla remarked, bored with her little game. She grabbed the tray from me and shoved the whole thing into the lap of one of her startled aunts. "Serve yourselves, old timers, because we're moving over to the land of the living!" Then she grabbed me by the penis and dragged me toward the other side of the room. "Music, maestro!" she shouted at the startled rock 'n' roll band. "It's show time!"
"Oh-oh, look out! Miss Priscilla's off on another sex trip," Yetta Mae remarked apprehensively, as she glanced over at the disgruntled older clique. They sat squinting at Priscilla, waiting for the worst to happen. "All hell's gonna break loose now, for sure!" Yetta predicted, shaking her bushy natural sadly. The younger set gulped the refills of champagne Yetta Mae poured freely right and left, and watched Priscilla spellbound with anticipation.
"My sugarplum is so talented," Mrs. Rigsby exclaimed, clapping her braceleted hands until the rock group took the hint and broke into a raucous rhythm that matched her beat. "Shake it, precious! Show them what a real lady can do!" she shrilled.
like an experienced burlesque stripper, Priscilla threw her boy-girl torso into a sizzling strip routine, matched solidly to the pulse of the earsplitting music. Tossing her head, she smiled theatrically at the gaping youthful bystanders, who clapped and hollered like regular burlesque fans, while slurping up more and more champagne. Laughing like a fool, Priscilla shimmied and undulated in utter abandon. With her as inspiration, the musicians improvised sounds which swept over us in wave after wave of ecstatic frenzy.
I stood, dazzled by the sight of this effeminate pansy transformed by a medical miracle into a woman. There she was right in front of me, sweeping her languorous eyes under long lashes over my athletic physique. Her sultry dance was deliberately centered on my extended hardness. Her long red tongue licked her ruby lips slowly and erotically.
"This is the way we do it in the big-time, honey," Priscilla bragged, as she began her impromptu peel, slowly unzipping the back of her bright fuchsia colored evening dress. I tried not to miss a single movement as she twirled around me with dizzying speed. Her routine would have put an old pro to shame. It was smooth, and it was way out!
"Take it off, take it off!" the kids shouted, as they guzzled the abundant bubbly, and begged for more. " 'Come on out,' Priscilla!"
In contrast with the younger crowd, the deadpan faces of the older group were now congealed into masks of frozen horror at the antics of our dancing transvestite. They obviously hated every minute of the show they were being forced to watch.
With lady-like grace, Priscilla slowly plucked the jeweled spaghetti straps of her flimsy gown off her wide bony shoulders, and as the top of her dress dropped, she held the bodice against her bouncing, jello-like breasts with her other free hand.
"Isn't she too much?" Mrs. Rigsby screamed with delight to everyone, mimicking her niece's moves with grotesque gyrations of her pear-shaped bottom. "This is definitely where the action is at, hey kids?"
"Let it all hang out!" the hysterical young group yelled, ignoring poor old Consuela, and screaming in absolute chaos, as Priscilla, the fag-in-drag, obediently dropped the upper half of her dress, exposing two bare firm, milk white mounds which swayed freely in time with her hypnotizing footwork.
"Isn't my niece a gorgeous child?" Mrs. Rigsby raved on, oblivious to the fact that no one was listening. The half stoned, half plastered youngsters were drinking in Priscilla's silicone pumped up knockers, as well as the fresh transfusions of champagne thoughtfully provided by the efficient Yetta Mae. "I just adore today's youth," Consuela Rigsby remarked to nobody in particular.
Suddenly, Priscilla went down on her knees before my widespread pelvis. She wiggled her square shoulders back and forth, so that her big round boobies rubbed sensuously against my thickly veined manhood. My massive pillar stood stark and upright, throbbing rhythmically. The titillating sensations stirred up lustful desires in my pent-up groin.
"Jesus!" I cried out, reaching for Priscilla's mocking face, yearning to fill that warm, devouring mouth with my fullness once more. Giggling crazily, Priscilla dodged my grasping hands, yanked down on her disheveled gown and panties, and stepping out of them, stood there, bare ass naked! Waving the discarded garments victoriously over her head, she pranced and preened herself before the encouraging cheers of her zonked out young guests.
All eyes now zeroed in on the man made silky-haired vagina, a perfectly shaped fountain of love encased between the freak chick's smooth, velvety legs. There were deafening applause and drunken hurrahs from the sex crazy group in tribute to the stripper's grand finale, as well as the medical miracle. Even the blase teenager musicians almost stopped playing to join in appreciation of Priscilla's dazzling performance.
"Isn't that Miss Priscilla cute as a kitten?" Yetta Mae asked wide-eyed as she offered yet another lethal tray of champagne filled glasses to the glassy eyed guests. "She certainly looks like one of them Las Vegas showgirls, if you ask me."
Obviously elated by all this praise, the by now panting Priscilla stood and drank in the applause. like a real drag queen, she slowly rotated her yummy shape for all to see and enjoy. I just couldn't get my eyes off the front of her newly carved out womanhood. I was getting horny as hell just drinking in the sight of that made-in-Sweden box, that creamy complexioned, well-rounded fanny, and the overblown charms of her siliconed bosom. I had to admit it, this ersatz curvaceous cutie had put on one hell of a good show!
Just then, and almost in unison, the entire group of glum-faced oldsters rose from the long sofa on the other side of the vast living room and headed for the elevator.
"Oh, not leaving, are you?" Mrs. Rigsby asked in mock anguish. "The party's just beginning, you know."
"We've had quite enough of the freak and the grotesque," Grandma Agatha scolded, speaking for the group. "Goodness knows, I try to be broadminded, but this is too much! Just an impotent boy masquerading as an impotent girl sex change or no sex change!"
"Absolutely shocking!" grandpa chimed in from in back of grandma. "This so-called sexual freedom is nothing, but an excuse for giving in to animal appetites. I'm ashamed of you, Consuela, at your age! It's enough to make one want to vomit!" he added, as he waggled a long bony finger in the faces of our puffing hostess and her sweating sex siren niece. "What a blemish you are to the proud legend of American womanhood!"
"Who gives a shit what you old farts think!" Priscilla spat out, obviously annoyed by the fact that not everyone loved her. "Christ knows we don't need you anymore, so get the hell out ... our ... out!" Her scarlet painted lips parted in an ugly snarl.
The nine disapproving old timers disappeared silently into the elevator.
Thank God! So much for the establishment!" Mrs. Rigsby motioned to the rock 'n' roll music-makers to carry on. "The real party's just begun!"
"Come on, rent-a-boy, lay a little love on me," Priscilla ordered, stretching her thin arms toward me. I drank in her full ripe orbs and the furry triangle of her newly shaped, pink-lipped twat.
Hoping to put on a good show for the hip crowd of youngsters who clustered drunkenly around us, I slowly approached the waiting nude debutante, my hands reaching out for her two bare balloons. The atmosphere of the room became electric with excitement as the champagne drinking guests encircled the two of us like a pack of sex-hungry wolves.
Very dramatically, I began to caress and knead Priscilla's firmly siliconed globes, cupping the up-thrust bosoms for all to see. Then with my fingers, I slowly pinched and pulled on the erect buttons. The fleshy breasts bounced up and down before the hypnotized crowd. With everyone intent, waiting for my next move, I rubbed my hairy chest against Priscilla's big softies. The electricity between our bodies awakened the pent-up urge in my crotch to really try out that "miracle" cunt, pressing against the red-hot head of my pulsing hard-on.
"Lay it on her, stud!" came the urgent chant from-the overwrought kids, as they began loosening up their mod attire, getting ready for anything and everything.
"He's available twenty-four hours a day, you know. Just dial 'L' for lust," Mrs. Rigsby exclaimed, laughing at her own joke. Ignored by the youngsters, she stubbornly kept time with the music, clapping' her big bony hands together.
I grabbed my stiffness and rubbed the bulbous cockhead up and down the soft lips between Priscilla's outspread legs. Then holding her lean hips firmly, I pushed forward little by little, letting my sex-horny audience watch the swollen bell-like head of my cock disappear into the hairy crevice of her pussy.
"Oh, my God!" Priscilla moaned in mock tragedy, playing up our little show for all it was worth. The fun-seekers huddled around us, lapping up every intense moment. "Give it to me, muscles," she begged in a low, masculine whisper.
With slow and exaggerated circling movements, I screwed my pressing joint inward. The tight warmth of her snatch sent shivers through my veiny rod. Suddenly, a long-haired chick, unable to stand the strain, leaned forward and shamelessly grabbed hold of the still exposed shaft of my loaded cannon. As she squeezed it, I smiled at her through half closed eyes and forced my muscular endowment to pulse in her trembling hand.
Not to be upstaged, Priscilla reached out for the hand of the closest swaying youth, and pressed it over one full bust. Needing no further invitation, he moved right in, and in seconds, was sucking hard and noisily on the perfectly formed roundness. Priscilla barely had time to turn her head before another guy's mouth was working over the other tit. She rested her delicate manicured hands on the two bobbing heads and laughed crazily toward the chandeliered ceiling.
Annoyed by Priscilla's beating me at my own game, I leaned over to the left, clutched the front of an attractive chick's flaring pants, and pulled her roughly toward me. I massaged the soft material covering her heavy bush, and in response, the girl frantically began unzipping her clothes and pushing them downward. Now the "orgy" was really getting underway. Turning to my right, I reached out to another half stoned doll, pulled her flimsy blouse out of her bell-bottoms, and ran my warm hand up under the see-through shirt, squeezing and pressing her fresh perfect mounds.
Priscilla was making animal sounds deep in her throat, and twisting her head awkwardly up and sideways, as she tongue-kissed the guy standing directly behind her. His body pumped hard and fast against her bare backside.
Strangely enough, even with this help, my slippery and relentlessly prodding cocktip couldn't seem to pierce any deeper into Priscilla's widely stretched pinkness. Droplets of sweat ran down my forehead as I felt up one chick's quivering boobies, fingerfucked another's contracting wetness, and went on unsuccessfully plunging and plowing into Priscilla's unyielding, resistant centerspread.
like a mythological sex goddess, Priscilla stood rooted to the spot, reveling in the erotic joys of her four-way tribute. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that two male heads were already feverishly gnawing on her voluptuous knockers between our love-locked bodies, she now also had both hands busy, simultaneously jerking off two more half dazed drunken kids, whose roaring erections were exposed through the flies of their skintight mod slacks.
By now, I was getting turned off by so much overheated competition. I let go both my panting broads, grabbed the two hairy male heads directly in front of me, and pulled them from Priscilla's fullness with a vicious yank. "Fuck off!" I ordered angrily. They stared at me blearily, their drooling grins showing they were just waiting for me to let go so they could dive back into Priscilla's playpen.
"Don't be a drag, call boy. It's my party and you're paid for so relax. You only 'come out' once, you know," Priscilla whooped happily. The tight circle of drunken faces echoed her, cheering and yelling even louder than the blaring rock band, their hot breath and perspiring bodies becoming stifling in the overcrowded corner. "And forget about my downstairs, kiddo, because that's as deep as it goes," she laughed wildly. She pulled her hotness away from my jabbin weapon.
"Sorry about that, but as my dear auntie always says, 'different strokes for different folks.' Try the other end it's tighter anyhow," she quipped. Struggling to turn completely around in our crushing circle, she bent halfway over, so that her bare-bottomed cheeks pressed warmly against my throbbing pillar.
Madder than hell at her flip attitude, I got a firm hold on her lean hips with both hands, pressed the pulsing head of my lengthy hose between her velvety buttocks (tight against the hairy inner hole), and with all my strength, shoved my nine inch cramming tool like an avenging club upward into the very depths of her juicy canal.
Much to my disappointment, Priscilla didn't even whimper! She was too busy monkeying with someone's trousers in front of her, her honey-blonde head bobbing up and down, as she began sucking. At the same time, she kept jerking off the hard-ons to her left and right.
I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, and like a battering ram, deliberately drove my shiny column in and out of the delicious feeling tunnel, my muscular legs straining with each mighty thrust.
Then all hell broke loose! The whole animated crowd of youthful onlookers started tearing off their clothes, pawing each other in a delirium of lust, and falling all over us their hands, mouths, and bodies feeling, touching, and tasting us in mass orgiastic hysteria.
At that exact moment of all times I felt sharp fingernails piercing painfully into my bare skinned shoulder. Grimacing, I turned around and saw Consuela Rigsby beckoning to me. She motioned wildly for me to follow her over to a quiet spot. Reluctantly, I withdrew my drenched machine from the seductive ass hole, and pushed my way through the clenching, clawing, maddening group, still tearing greedily at my bruised body.
"Angel puss-likes variety, hon, so let's give the others a chance, huh? I have another job waiting for you anyway. Follow me, please," Mrs. Rigsby commanded, her bulging eyes glancing down with approval at my glistening "prize package."
She was still the boss, so I tagged along behind her obediently. I looked back, reluctant to leave the sex-mad party-goers who were so together, their clothes flying high in the air and their bodies wrestling on the long sofas. A complete chaos of sound and movement filled the immense room with an earsplitting din of music and lust.
Tiptoeing down a thickly carpeted hallway, we left the noise far behind us and finally stepped through another door. Me first, then Mrs. Rigsby right behind me. We were now in a lavishly furnished and spacious bedroom, obviously Mrs. Rigsby's. A quick look around showed a king sized bed dominating the center wall of the room. Two gigantic chandeliers sparkled overhead. At the opposite end of the room in a heavily draped alcove, a linen covered table was fully set with a filled champagne bucket, glasses, and more trays of canapes.
Then my eyes really opened in amazement. Three figures surrounded the table: In the middle was my old "friend" and client, Dr. Prickett. On either side stood Yetta Mae and Felix, their brown bodies stripped jay bird naked. Felix faced me with his dark hands resting on his small hips, his long black prick dangling down his hairy thighs. Yetta Mae posed seductively, one leg bent slightly, her thin coffee-with-cream colored arms folded underneath the enormous, outward thrust breasts. Dr. Prickett, in contrast, was elegantly dressed in full evening attire, his button nose raised grandly, high in the air. He ran his pale hand carefully over the sides of his highly teased, shiny white hair.
"Alrighty, everyone, let's get with it," Mrs. Rigsby broke in on their conversation, clapping her jangling braceleted hands together for attention. "Now that the kids are taken care of, it's time for our little love-in," she giggled girlishly.
"Yeah, let's get 'organized," Yetta Mae exclaimed enthusiastically, eyeing my wet stiffness, and licking her lips. "I'm ready for a real 'hard' time."
"Here's the big ladies man now," Felix joked, watching my swaying pole intently as I walked over. "It's going to be a 'togetherness place,' for sure."
"Kenny, my dear boy!" Dr. Prickett cried out ecstatically, his beady eyes drinking in my familiar fullness with relish, as he leapt forward to meet me halfway. "My, it's so good to see you again. It's been too long, honey."
I pulled away from his grip, a little embarrassed. "Small world, isn't it?" I laughed nervously, finding it impossible to keep my eyes off Yetta Mae's wobbling forty-eight inch titties. The saucer sized brown nipples seemed to never stop their circular movements.
"This sure is some lush pad," I tried to make conversation.
"You three go right ahead while Dr. Prickett and I down a bit of Dom Perignon," Mrs. Rigsby said. She sat daintily on the sofa beside the food and drink filled table.
"Who's this dude you're going down on?" I asked innocently, looking around the elegant bedroom for another guy. Everyone laughed.
"What's so damn funny now?" I questioned. Feeling like a fool, I fingered my hanging nuts nervously.
"You darling idiot! Dom Perignon was the name of the monk who, God rest his soul, left us the world's most civilized drink champagne!" Dr. Prickett chimed in, as he sat down grandly next to Mrs. Rigsby. She filled their two glasses from the frosty champagne bottle and toasted us.
'Who gives a shit!' I thought to myself.
"O.K., kids, carry on, and just do what comes unnaturally!" Mrs. Rigsby tittered like a schoolgirl, as she munched on an hors d'oeuvre with tiny bites, her greedy popeyes watching our every move.
"Yes, for Lord's sake, get with it!" Dr. Prickett gulped enthusiastically, his eyes shining with expectation. He swilled the frothy wine thirstily.
Puzzled, I looked over at Yetta Mae and Felix. They reached out and pulled me over to the bed.
"Listen, golden boy," Yetta Mae muttered under her breath, "Let's give 'em so good a show that it'll nail 'em to their seats! Consuela is no chintzy broad, and we'll all get an extra fat bonus for an eye popping threesome dig?" she added seriously, climbing on top of the big bed.
"If your head is together, Ken, you'll pick up on this trip," Felix advised me sincerely, stepping on the springy mattress and pulling me upward. "There's a lot of bread floating around through old doc's wealthy contacts, you'd better believe it! So let's rip their heads off, eh?"
"I can raise hell at the drop of a checkbook," I remarked slyly, trying to balance myself on the bouncy surface. "I'm ready to go, pal the wilder, the better!"
"One more thing, blondie," Yetta Mae smiled stagily, as she grabbed both of our cocks with her hot hands, and began massaging them lovingly. "Ole' lady Consuela likes to hear you rap about what you're doing and loud!"
"Uh-huh," I nodded, reaching over with both hands, taking one giant orb, and handling it as if it were a precious jewel. I chuckled to myself as I played with the soft spongy globe.
"It sure is neat to have some fresh blood to ball with," Yetta Mae, shouted in the direction of our eager audience of two. Pulling Felix and me toward her, she forced us into a tightly knit trio, and vigorously worked our heavy headed cocktips against each other in round tantalizing circles.
"Yeah, and framed in black and white living color, too," I answered, gasping deeply in response to the titillating sensations down below. I feasted my eyes on Yetta Mae's voluminous tan knockers spread overwhelmingly across my chest, the dark brown nipples in sharp contrast with my own thick growth of blonde hair.
"You sure have a terrific build like a golden Adonis," Felix complimented me in an adoring tone, as he ran one long black finger slowly down my washboard stomach to the flaxen tangle at my lower belly.
"I'm already hot for your beautiful kisser, busty," I murmured to Yetta Mae, reaching up with one hand to the top of her natural hairdo, and pushing down hard.
"Ditto, sexy," Yetta Mae replied, as she knelt down on the bed cover still holding our throbbing flagpoles tightly with her two hands. Without hesitation, she greedily shoved the shiny ends of both our manhoods, now slippery with our own fluids, into her widespread lips. She swallowed the two lengthy dicks clear to their bases with ease. This has got to be seen to be believed,' I thought to myself as I stared dumbfounded at her wild trick. Our twin male sexes slid in and out of her sucking mouth effortlessly, side by side.
"Eat it up alive, baby," I sighed, hanging onto the back of Yetta Mae's bobbing fuzzy head, as Felix and I screwed fanatically together into the hot, seemingly bottomless gurgling throat. I could feel Felix's warm arm wrapped around my waist. He pulled us closer together as the pleasurable delights from Yetta Mae's liquid filled and cavernous mouth sent floods of good feeling surging from my groin.
The sound of cheers and applause from the old-timer's rooting section across the room spurred us on to greater efforts in our superduper bare-assed spectacular.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet, folks," Yetta Mae bragged, as she came up for air. I moaned unhappily as our glistening poles slipped out of her lips with a loud "slurp." She wiped her drooling mouth off with one dusky arm and motioned for Felix to lie down on the bed.
"It gets pretty heavy, I tell you," Felix promised me with a wink, as he stretched out crossways on his back, his dark head hanging backwards over the edge of the mattress. His thick lips hung wide-open, his tongue waggled expectantly.
"Go get it, sugar," Yetta Mae pointed toward his gaping mouth as she stood with legs planted firmly apart directly above Felix's chest. I looked over at her questioningly, but saw the light in about two seconds flat, and eagerly jumped off the springy bed to stand directly over Felix's face.
"Fill my head with your joint, stud," Felix begged. His hands reaching out, he grabbed my slippery monument and guided it between those great fleshy lips into the warmth of his mouth. I groaned ecstatically as I felt his all encompassing mouth slide clear to the bottom of my fullness. The hot breath from his wide nostrils ruffled my crotch hair and tickled my balls.
"Satisfy my soul, loverboy," Yetta Mae cooed, shoving her black, neatly trimmed heart-shaped bush into my face. She reached down with dainty fingers and spread the opening of her pink-lipped vagina invitingly. "I want to come till I went!" she proclaimed dramatically.
Trying to keep cool and not be completely carried away by the sensual suctions downstairs, I held the pussy folds widely apart, exposing the oyster shaped crevice. I moved my tongue slowly over the soft tenderness, purposely taking my sweet time. Yetta Mae purred like a kitten, gyrating her pelvis toward my probing tongue in perfect rhythm.
Still determined to put on a first-rate performance before the lustful eyes of our champagne drinking customers, I slowly swept my long, sinuous tongue inside the hairy-covered centerspread, lapping up the abundant juices with gusto. It was getting harder to hold back from a premature climax. The gratification from Felix's fantastic sucking on my deeply embedded sword was almost too intense. I kept my mind on my work by deliberately driving Yetta Mae half crazy with passionate tongue thrusts jabbing even deeper into her patch. Then moving my wiggling tongue upward over her hanging rubbery clitoris, I pushed three fingers of each hand easily down into the compressing hotness. That did it! Yetta Mae whinnied like a filly in spring, grabbed the back of my head, and smashed my face into the gooey wetness, almost suffocating me.
Pulling away from the warmth of her approaching orgasm, I reached up for the bigger-than-life hills standing upright and revolving gently, ripe and ready for plucking. Clutching the great balloons roughly, I drove my swirling tongue back into the fluid-filled cavern. Downstairs, Felix still held my pummeling joystick in his mouth, pulling in and out slickly, the pressing friction so intense, so beautiful.
O.K., gang, let's get down to the nitty-gritty," Mrs. Rigsby interrupted hiccupping, her words slurred by the effects of too much champagne. She turned groggily toward Dr. Prickett who was also obviously half looped. "I thought you said whatchamacallem was the most sought-after Lothario in town? So far, he's done everything, but just plain ole' fuckin'! "
"Take it easy, Consuela, my dear," Dr. Prickett drawled. "Everything's going to be O.K. Now, Ken bubbie, sweetie, chickie pie come on, cut loose! You kiddies just get in there and 'meat' each other head-on. You know 'cum' one, 'cum' all!" he jested. The two old fogies doubled up cackling and drooling with laughter at the corny joke.
That's all we needed to hear. like real pros, the three of us eyed each other and silently changed positions. Felix scooted down to the middle of the gigantic bed (still on his back), with his exposed penis up-thrust between his widespread legs, framed by the wiry bush at its base. His heavy testicles touched the sheets. Yetta Mae crouched above Felix's pulsing cockhead, and with one push, sat down hard over the cramming hardness. The long shiny black shaft disappeared completely into her descending posterior. As Yetta Mae let out a loud, dramatic wail, Felix's dark hands reached forward and around, clutching the giant sized breasts. He pulled her backwards, so that she lay supine over his body with his weapon securely lodged in her violated anus.
"Sock it to me, tiger," Yetta Mae cried out to me, one long slender finger pointing toward the gaping canyon between her spread-eagled thighs. "Gimme some belly love!"
Hypnotized by the slick pumping action of Felix's black rod in and out of Yetta Mae's wobbling rear end, I knelt down between their wide-open legs, and taking hold of my loaded cannon with both hands, steered myself into her parted target. With one solid thrust, I sank my monumental "prize package" deep into her crotch. Her hungry cunt muscles contracted in spasms around my enveloped stiffness. I could barely hear the two old boozehounds applauding wildly at the three-way spectacle, I was so immersed in the smooth sensations pressing against my pride and joy.
"Your body was made for lust," Yetta Mae whispered lasciviously, as she reached up with both hands, grabbed hold of my bulging biceps, and pulled me down over her slowly revolving forty-eight inch bust. Felix's hands cupped Yetta Mae's behind as he continued to drive upward into the fleshy rump. "Fuck me, darling, fuck me!" she begged both of us.
Letting my whole weight drop on Yetta Mae's yielding torso, I pushed steadily into the voluptuous opening in total abandon. Yetta Mae's wide-open lips covered mine, as I sucked hard and greedily on her long probing tongue. Her arms wound around my neck in a vise-like hold and she grunted like an animal deep in her throat. My approaching climax was stimulated by the novelty of this bizarre three-in-a-bed sex sandwich.
With her passions fully aroused, Yetta Mae returned my wild jabs stroke for stroke. In our "no holds barred" group orgy, I was startled to feel Felix's hairy legs intertwined around mine, his fingers running through my curly head wildly. Yetta Mae, at the same time, clutched my firm rump and pulled me inward with flexing rhythmic movements as my pneumatic tool worked even deeper, probing her slushy innards. like sex maniacs, we drove ourselves to a near frenzy to quench our insatiable desires.
"I love the feel of your back all those muscles, daddy-o!" I heard Felix swoon, as his sweaty hands moved up and down my shuddering trunk lovingly.
I ignored his outbursts of passion, too busy forcing my own hands between Yetta Mae's sweaty breastwork and holding onto the bulging points of her jello-like bosom. Spreading her legs even wider, Yetta Mae allowed me the urgent freedom I needed. Our bare bodies merged in erotic ecstasy, the slap of flesh on flesh growing louder and faster.
"You're really together, Ken, you know that? Hold on to this feeling we got, baby," Felix babbled on half crazy, his fingers twirling inside my ears and beginning to tickle me.
Angrily shaking my head free of Felix's fingertips, I thrashed and pounded into the center of our axis like a stallion in heat, the sweat from my forehead dripping on Felix's face directly below my panting mouth. I tried to hold back just a little longer from the soaring eruption I was ready to pour into Yetta Mae's gushy pocket. Wave after wave of hot animal smells rose from our tripled fleshy heap.
"I don't know about you cats, but I'm into a special trip, and I'm going to shoot ready or not!" Felix gasped, his fingers digging painfully into my flexed biceps. "Oh, Ken go, Ken!" he begged in one long dying moan, reaching his own climactic ejaculations with writhing, twisting contortions.
"I'm being raped by two wild beasts, and they're tearing me apart! I can't take it any longer! Please no, Ken, not that! Yes, darling now! Make it happen!" Yetta Mae wailed deliriously. Her orgasm swept her away, her perspiring body stiffened, convulsed, and then jetted streams of jizz hotly over my tunneling monstrosity.
"Oh, no Christ Almighty!" I sobbed and shook violently as my final rising tide of excitement exploded, hurling blasts of semen into the gushing pit. Our slippery bodies slid back and forth, and our bellies rose and fell in quivering aching gasps. I forced myself to continue plunging into the overflowing come-filled hole with every ounce of strength left in my body. The noisy "squishing" sounds filled the quiet bedroom.
For endless minutes, we finally all lay motionless and spent, listening to our own labored breathing. The wild balling trio of a few minutes ago, now lay completely exhausted, but still linked as one. Yetta Mae's slushy slit pulsed against my entrenched erection. She pulled my hands from between our chests and the thrilling sensation of her slick tits sent another spurt of seed involuntarily into her pudding-like interior.
"Well, if this wasn't the liveliest, wildest bash in town, I don't know what was eh, Consuela?" Yetta Mae queried, flinging her arms outward in triumph.
"No bullshit, that was the best turn-on I've had in a long time. Ain't that what you call 'hard-core sex,' doc?" Felix asked loudly, his arms folded contentedly behind his curly black head.
"A cunt a day keeps the head shrinker away," I joked lamely, twisting around toward our distinguished audience of two. One look was all I needed. The bastards were sound asleep! After all the preliminary hullabaloo, there they were absolutely wiped out, their heads together like two puppies, their mouths wide-open, snoring. "Son of a bitch!" I cursed in exasperation. "Here I am busting my ass to give these old farts their money's worth, and they're not even watching!" With one violent jerk, I yanked my soaking pillar out of Yetta Mae's juicy haven, ignoring her loud complaint.
"Now don't get your ego-trip punctured, stud. It was a spectacular experience believe me! You're getting paid for it, don't forget!" Yetta Mae said, struggling to get up off of Felix. His slippery organ slid out of her drooling fanny with a noisy "slurp." Felix whined in protest, too, at the ending of a beautiful orgy.
I jumped off the rumpled bed, disgusted with the whole situation. "How in the hell do I get paid now?"
"Don't lose your cool, my hot blooded bronze apollo," Yetta Mae cooed sarcastically. Her eyes were still glued on my glistening prick, arched over and dangling loosely halfway down my wet thigh. "It doesn't hurt, but I sure know somebody's been in there," she grinned back ruefully, rubbing her sore privates as she trotted over in her bare feet to the snoozing couple.
I felt a surge of excitement in my groin as I ogled Yetta Mae's bouncy, swaying globes. She leaned over Mrs. Rigsby's slumped figure, reached down hesitantly and delicately plucked a crumpled check from the deep crevice between the wealthy dowager's ample bosoms. Waving it in the air, she sashayed over and held it in front of me triumphantly.
I snatched the paper from her hand and spread it open expectantly. "Fifty dollars! Is that all?" I grumbled, unable to hold back my disappointment.
"What's half a C-note, more or less, to all the bread you rake in every day from that flesh-for-profit agency," Felix laughed, resting his brown paw all too obviously on my knotted shoulder. He couldn't keep his greedy eyes off my stupendous "prize package" still covered with love juice. "Us workin' folk can't afford you, rent-a-boy, but if you ever want to double your pleasure again, there's two balling partners right here ready, willing, and able!"
"Consuela has your business card, you beautiful hunk, and we'll tell everyone we know what a big triple hit you were between the sheets you'd better believe it!" Yetta Mae promised, licking her thick lips.
"Yeah, sure, you do that," I tried to hide my chagrin as the dream of a nice fat fee vanished. Taking a last look around the costly boudoir, I noticed that Consuela and Dr. Prickett were still sound asleep. In fact, they had both slumped over onto the floor. "I'll get back to you guys later," I winked, and headed for the door leading into the living room, holding the check in one hand, since
I obviously had no place to put it.
"Peace," they saluted, both looking sad to see me go, their hands held high with fingers extended making a "V" sign.
Closing the bedroom door behind me, I made my way back through the corridor to the noisy living room What I saw made me catch my breath. In my absence, the party had really gotten rough. The long divans were stacked with bare-assed couples, either wiped out cold or tangled in frantic love making. Directly in the middle of the room, a group of shouting kids, all in the nude, surrounded a spectacular show. Having little doubt as to what it was, I elbowed my way through the gaping long-haired nudies to the center of the circle. This time, Priscilla, the sex-switch queen, had outdone herself! With a giant-sized shiny pink dildo strapped snugly around her waist, she was thrusting and lunging ravenously into the pussy of a gorgeous redheaded doll who was spraddled from east to west under her.
'All that trouble to grow a twat,' I thought to myself, and here she is banging away like she really needed it! For a brief second, Priscilla looked up and caught my knowing glance. Reading my thoughts, she shrugged her square shoulders and winked broadly at me. Then letting out a piercing rebel yell, the freak chick went back to plowing into the shuddering crotch below her with renewed zeal. Her stoned audience watched her show-stopping number, hypnotized.
I turned and shoved my way through the pressing sex-crazed crowd. It seemed like a good time to leave the whole freaked-out scene. There was obviously nothing more for me to contribute, especially for a lousy fifty bucks!
I pushed the elevator button, stepped in and was already on the way down when it suddenly dawned on me I was still stark naked, and messy! Before I could press the "Penthouse" button, the door slid open, revealing the apartment entrance hall and five of the most startled faces I'd ever seen. Well, what else could I do? As nonchalantly as possible, I smiled and said, "Going up? The Rigsby party is open to invited guests only on the twentieth floor. Ladies to the rear of the elevator, please."
Melanie didn't believe a word of all this, of course. She just kept staring at the fifty dollar check suspiciously, shaking her pretty head and reminding me what a flop I was!
I guess what she doesn't know won't hurt her.