Ascending Lauren

[hongtea]

Final comments: Liked the details of Lauren dressing up in her tight jumpsuit and Corey helping her accessorize. Really added to the visuals. Lauren flirting with Corey's friends and almost giving a blowjob was insanely hot.

The length of the chapter was a real treat, longest chapter so far I believe. Glad to see a detailed sex scene at the end!

[Johng1953]

Wow, can she get more extreme?

"Goddamnit, Corey, this isn't the first time you've pulled this shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Right back at you bitch!
Mind you, it's no less than Corey deserves.

And "Do it, baby, do my bunghole," the dancer yelped. Really? Bunghole? Made me laugh though and I did overall enjoy the aside where Chloe is basically cuckolding Charlie. I hope you develop this more alongside Lauren's ever wilder debauchery.

[SimpleEnigma]

@Hongtea, excellent observations, as always.

Regarding Chloe and Charlie: you may recall from this thread and our comments that we have an inner circle of friends whose tales, along with ours, are recorded here. Although we are posting on the internet, they really are our primary audience and why we do this. Some of them are our age, some are younger, some are single now. Our lives gradually came together over time due to common interests. ‘Chloe’ was a stripper and escort that Lauren met on a bachelorette party bus a long time ago (during the slut years) and we all eventually became fast friends.

Regarding foreshadowing: maybe some in there, although as we’ve alluded to before, there will be no physical incest in these stories. Clearly Lauren and I enjoy a variety of sexual depravities, but we’ve not had inclinations towards that. Not that we’re judging others, mind you, just setting expectations. That being said, we are readying a chapter that will explore a story as told to us by friends from California whose daughter cucked Dad alongside her mother. That has plenty of overtones for those that are into that sort of thing. Stay tuned.

Clean up: While many wittols enjoy this, including some in our circle, I do not. Lauren has taunted me with the prospect many times, but I simply cannot bring myself to do it. It’s sort of a running joke now. As many of us know, not all cuckolds are bi, and while I do not cringe at incidental contact with a guy when he is fucking Lauren, or am afraid of friendly fire, I have no desire to have sex with them or consume their bodily fluids. I’ll leave that to the ladies and gents who enjoy that sort of thing.

@Johng1953, glad you saw the humor in Chloe’s ‘bunghole’ dialogue, it’s exactly what we were going for. So happy you picked up on that, hope others did too. I dare say all of us on this forum have watched cuckold porn at one time or another and have seen/heard the ridiculous scripting. The real life Chloe did ‘star’ in a few low budget films in LA years ago and chuckles today on how stupid and contrived they were. She says that even during filming she was thinking ‘how will anyone believe this stuff?” Regardless, it paid her rent so….

Can she get more extreme?

In a nutshell, yes. During those years, Lauren was brutal to me. Taunting, psychological torture, flaunting in front of my friends and many times having sex with them. Absolutely brutal. And I took it. Why? Because I love her and she knew, at the end of the day, I enjoyed it. No, craved it. It’s what I signed up for. I’m wired how I’m wired and make no apologies for it. In fact, I’ve only used the safe word once which signaled a major shift in our lifestyle.

But first, those slut years I speak of so often? There are several more stories to tell from that time, so please keep reading.

And as always, stay tolerant, friends.

[Johng1953]

"I’ve only used the safe word once which signaled a major shift in our lifestyle."
Given what's already happened I can't even begin to imagine what depravity caused you to do that!

[mundyman]

I. LOVE. THIS. STORY!!!!!!!

[hongtea]

Kind of wondering how/if Corey's relationship with his daughter and friends will ever become normal again. Seems like sex and humiliation will dominate all of their interactions.

[mooshscuck]

Amazing chapter! thank you so much for sharing with us!

[Nylookingtoo]

I’m only up to chapter 9 , but I had to jump out here to the end to complement a story well written !
I can feel every feeling that Codie is feeling as I read it!
I pretty much fit into Corie’s body! Early 60s carrying 50 extra pounds, and an average cock , that never lasts as long as it should!
I just wish my wife would be half as adventurous as Lauren is.

[SimpleEnigma]

@Nylookingtoo,

Thanks for reading and we are glad you are enjoying the journey. While sex acts in erotic literature are important (after all, we all know the REAL reason we read), being able to convey emotions is even more important. It sounds like you've made that connection, and for that we are grateful.

You stated: I just wish my wife would be half as adventurous as Lauren is.

Lauren is sitting next to me on the couch here and laughing. She says for me to tell you not to be too harsh on your wife. Remember, the Lauren character in the story is comprised of several of our friends, past and present, as well as real life Lauren, each whom have had their own adventures which are being retold through the fictional Lauren (and Chloe and Amy and another one of our friends we will introduce soon). While my Lauren was a complete slut back in the day (pretty much where the story is now) and cucked me to the extreme (as did her girlfriends with their husbands/boyfriends), it wasn't like she did everything fictional Lauren does. I mean, could any woman? Well, maybe...

So, anyway, be happy with what your wife is able to offer. As the cliche for the lifestyle goes, its not for everyone, so be careful what you ask for.

Stay tolerant friends.

[Johng1953]

@Nylookingtoo,

Thanks for reading and we are glad you are enjoying the journey. While sex acts in erotic literature are important (after all, we all know the REAL reason we read), being able to convey emotions is even more important. It sounds like you've made that connection, and for that we are grateful.

You stated: I just wish my wife would be half as adventurous as Lauren is.

Lauren is sitting next to me on the couch here and laughing. She says for me to tell you not to be too harsh on your wife. Remember, the Lauren character in the story is comprised of several of our friends, past and present, as well as real life Lauren, each whom have had their own adventures which are being retold through the fictional Lauren (and Chloe and Amy and another one of our friends we will introduce soon). While my Lauren was a complete slut back in the day (pretty much where the story is now) and cucked me to the extreme (as did her girlfriends with their husbands/boyfriends), it wasn't like she did everything fictional Lauren does. I mean, could any woman? Well, maybe...

So, anyway, be happy with what your wife is able to offer. As the cliche for the lifestyle goes, its not for everyone, so be careful what you ask for.

Stay tolerant friends.

To me the emotional response is all important. I don't necessarily need all the what goes where narrative that ignores that.
I lost it a bit earlier with the drug taking but that's a personal issue of mine I maybe should have left alone.
I'm now looking forward (with some trepidation) as to how things develop in the future.

[SimpleEnigma]

@Johng1953,

Recreational drug use has always been polarizing. When Lauren and I were in high school there were 'stoners' and 'jocks'. We ran mostly with the stoners, but Lauren was 'in' with the jocks too because she dated a couple. It's one of those things people feel very strongly about either way, and that's why, at least in part, only half the states in the U.S. have legalized marijuana and the other half haven't. It is possible that some may never.

I for one am glad you feel open enough to post your honest opinions here. While we won't necessarily let someone's aversion to drugs sway us on what we write about (after all, drug use can and does play a big part in influencing decisions and judgement), I can say we are sensitive to that. Whether that's a positive or negative, we'll let each reader wrestle with that on their own.

My point is, please don't feel you have to leave anything 'alone'; shout it out and let's have honest dialogue about it. We sure the hell can't have any type of respectful communication on 'the other site.' Over there, all Lauren gets is "old used up whore" comments and I'm just a little 'cuck fag shit'.

Well, maybe they're half right. She is in her sixties now.

[hugh58]

I think this story is great and you leave nothing out as well as giving both sides of the story but I was wondering if there are thoughts of continuing the story to take it into the future

[SimpleEnigma]

Hi Hugh58,

The short answer is: yes, we plan on continuing this saga, its just that we both work full time, travel, and party a lot. So our publishings are when we can fit the writing in.

The long answer is: seeing as we are pulling on the collective exploits of around 8 hotwife/cuckold couples, including ourselves, the catalogue of experiences far outnumber the time we have to write about them. For instance, we have a list of about fourteen encounters on the backlog that could be woven into the fictional nonfiction lives of Lauren and Corey, but at the rate we publish (a chapter every couple months) it will take a while to get through them, if we ever do.

In between Ascending Lauren chapters, we've often thought about jumping ahead to present day (Lauren and Corey's 'future') and spinning up one-off stand alone tales. For example, last year when real life Lauren and I went to a college town for a game, then went bar hopping on the strip where Lauren met a couple students and wound up spending the night in their apartment for a victory celebration. Not sure if there is any interest here in a sixty-something hooking up with college kids, but if there is, we might be persuaded to crank out the details.

TL;DR: we plan on continuing Ascending Lauren but it takes a while for us to publish. Might consider publishing stand alone tales between AL episodes.

As always, stay tolerant, friends.

[Johng1953]

Because of your writing skills, let alone the erotic content of your writing, I'd be more than grateful for whatever you can give us. Please though don't stop Ascending Lauren!

[hongtea]

Can't wait for the next chapter!

[hongtea]

Hi Hugh58,

The short answer is: yes, we plan on continuing this saga, its just that we both work full time, travel, and party a lot. So our publishings are when we can fit the writing in.

The long answer is: seeing as we are pulling on the collective exploits of around 8 hotwife/cuckold couples, including ourselves, the catalogue of experiences far outnumber the time we have to write about them. For instance, we have a list of about fourteen encounters on the backlog that could be woven into the fictional nonfiction lives of Lauren and Corey, but at the rate we publish (a chapter every couple months) it will take a while to get through them, if we ever do.

In between Ascending Lauren chapters, we've often thought about jumping ahead to present day (Lauren and Corey's 'future') and spinning up one-off stand alone tales. For example, last year when real life Lauren and I went to a college town for a game, then went bar hopping on the strip where Lauren met a couple students and wound up spending the night in their apartment for a victory celebration. Not sure if there is any interest here in a sixty-something hooking up with college kids, but if there is, we might be persuaded to crank out the details.

TL;DR: we plan on continuing Ascending Lauren but it takes a while for us to publish. Might consider publishing stand alone tales between AL episodes.

As always, stay tolerant, friends.

On the topic of stand alone spinoff tales I'd be interested in the younger Miller's escapades when she's away from her mother's circle.

[SimpleEnigma]

@hongtea: Interesting concept, and one we will consider. The only problem is, any perspective of the girl's life on which Caroline is based would come solely from her mother, a friend of ours, whom I'm sure is not privy to all her naughtiness. Therefore, anything written about her would be complete fiction and I'm not sure we are good enough writers to make up stuff without having those kernels of truth to work with. But someday we may be comfortable enough to do so.

Thanks for reading.

[SimpleEnigma]

Those of you who are following along know that each episode of our tale is 'ripped from the headlines' of either our lives or one of our friends. As such, readers may find the second half of the below chapter containing a bit more detail, primarily because Lauren penned it. It only seems fitting she get the honors since she was there and I was not. I, on the other hand, had the pleasure of sitting at home while she went to the concert, contemplating future masturbation techniques. We hope you enjoy.

===============
CHAPTER 22
===============

===================================
Tuesday, February 13th. Nine days to go.
===================================

Corey Miller looked out over his expansive front lawn from the warmth of his study and took a sip of hot coffee. From there he could see the widespread morning frost and the metal For Sale sign reflecting the morning sun.

Open House Sunday

Noon - 2:00

Although he was, of course, excited to finally begin a new life in Florida with Lauren, the longtime Iowan had to admit selling the house that held so many memories brought about myriad mixed emotions. Birthdays and Christmases. Shed tears and happy laughs. Now, the home that had hosted all those things, the things that make life worth living, was soon to belong to another family where they too could begin making their own.

Would that happy couple find themselves beset by the same phycological fetishes and almost supernatural fervor that seemed to consume the Miller's life these days? Would the husband develop a burning desire to see his wife in the arms of other men? Would the wife acquiesce, only to find her own body longing for pleasures of the flesh, for the joy of sex that had been so mechanical and lackluster these past few years? Ironically, it was these types of thoughts that often drove him to the privacy of the toilet to masturbate. But now was not one of those times.

"The eggs will be done in a sec. More coffee?"

Returning to the kitchen, Corey took a seat at the wooden table as Lauren approached with a coffee pot in hand. Her expression was...apprehensive. Refilling his cup, she returned to the stove and slid three over-easies from a no-stick pan onto a plate.

More and more, things just seemed so surreal. Here was his wife of twenty-eight years, padding around in sweats, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and freshly scrubbed face making breakfast for her doting husband. With the traffic report on the small portable TV and sunshine streaming in, it could have been like a thousand other mornings in their lives; a regular Norman Rockwell painting.

But it wasn't.

Lauren hadn't spent the previous evening at the school board or coaching softball. She wasn't playing pickleball or fighting the lines at the new mega-supermarket. Instead, the beautiful raven-haired forty-eight-year-old had spent it teasing guys he counted amongst his best of friends, and eventually fucked one of them. For the third time.

A whore by any other name. 

Really? Did the culpability lie with her? Or what she had become? Had he not driven her libido to the point of ignition, stoked it with pillow talk and drunken fantasies? Asked her to dress sexier and flirt with others? Indeed, he had. Had he surfaced her suppressed desire to sell herself? No. Had he led her into an alley for a gangbang? No, but there was that pool hall incident.

Had he asked her to date other men?

Most definitely, yes. 

Despite that idyllic breakfast morning scene and best efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy, the stoic façade had begun to crack as more and more people became aware of their evolving marriage. That her buddies in Miami knew was a given. Quite frankly, all they'd ever known was Lauren the hotwife. But now Zane's coworkers back here in Des Moines knew and with her little escapade last night, longtime friends knew as well. Who they would tell was anyone's guess.

While the bacon sizzled on the griddle, Corey pretended to be lost in his phone, engrossed in the day's headlines. He wanted nothing more than to make a quick exit and go to work unscathed. Discussing last night was something he would prefer to avoid, and so far, so good. It was his love-hate relationship with the fetish that had driven him to spy on her once again and now there were sure to be consequences. After a somewhat disturbing and muddled threesome at Zane Picardo's home, all three had fallen asleep with Lauren in the middle. As the sun rose that morning, the married couple had woken and left quietly, each driving their own vehicle back home. That had been two hours ago and since then, neither had spoken a word of the encounter. Maybe it was a reluctance to discuss, or maybe they were just tired. Whatever the reason, the silence was about to end.

Click.

Lauren set down Corey's breakfast plate and switched off the TV. When someone does that, it's never a good sign.

"We need to talk," she eyed him pensively.

Corey stopped short of stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth. Shit.

"You cannot keep stalking me."

Biting off a piece of the crispy pork, he chewed slowly and returned the rest to the dish. "You're my wife. I like to know you are okay."

"That doesn't give you a right to spy on me. You knew where I was going, and it wasn't exactly River Bend. And this isn't the first time. There was my evening with Steve. Then the fraternity house, now Zane's."

Corey took a second bite, thought about that, then swallowed. "Well, for one, if I remember correctly, the lease has my name on it. So, when I caught you with Steve, it wasn't like I was trespassing. Second, you wanted me to find you in the fraternity. Now, last night? Yeah, maybe I pushed it. But I just had to see what was so damn important that you'd give up one of our last two nights together. But that should have been obvious, right? No mystery there. Big dick, small dick."

Lauren folded her arms and gazed out the window. He wasn't wrong. She'd smelled the scent of cock and followed it across town, leaving him in the dust. In hindsight, it wasn't something to be proud of and she could see his point. Still, if they were to continue their games in Miami, there had to be some ground rules. While she didn't like being apart from her husband all the time, not having to account for her whereabouts every day after thirty years provided a certain freedom that was going to be hard to forfeit again. Lauren was just now getting used to going out whenever she pleased, with whomever she pleased. And if they were going to continue the lifestyle - the course Corey himself had put them on - he was going to have to give her some space. Perhaps it was best to take a different approach.

"So, you like stalking me, huh?"

Corey looked up at her as he felt a foot slowly creeping up his calf. Her tone had softened and both eyes were transfixed on his.

"I told you I wasn't stalk-eeen...oh."

Another foot had joined in and found the sixty-one-year-old's crotch.

"If this is going to work, you'll need to ease up on the surveillance, okay? I know you like to watch, and I promise to feed your needs, but not all guys like an audience. And there are plenty I want to fuck."

A few toes danced on the growing tent in Corey's work khakis. "There are?" he wheezed, lost in the moment.

"Don't play stupid, Mister, you've seen what's in Miami."

"I know, but..."

Quite unexpectedly, Lauren slid off her chair and disappeared under the table. The next thing he knew, frisky hands had replaced the feet.

"Do we have an agreement?"

"Wha...what's that?"

"No more spying. I'll let you know when it's okay to lean in."

ZIPPPPPPP

"But what if...?"

A pair of lips engulfed his semi-erect six inches, followed by a tongue that traveled the length of its underbelly.

"No buts. Do we have a deal?" she asked again with the seriousness of a tough negotiator. Suddenly the whole of his penis was in her mouth.

Corey slumped in his chair; the breakfast food forgotten. "Yessssssss."

"Eye fawwwht so..." Lauren muttered as she crossed the i and dotted the t. Within two minutes the beleaguered husband shuddered, eyes rolling back in his head as he ejaculated down her throat. No way was she mopping the floor yet again.

The last drop swallowed, the sultry wife crawled out from under the table and dusted off her hands.

"Are you going out again tonight?" Corey zipped up, looking glum, as if he already knew the answer. "With him?"

"No," she shook her head, handing over a fully ladened lunch pail. "Don't you remember, silly? Tomorrow's Valentine's Day. My flight's in the morning, so this evening, we celebrate!"

Shit, that's right. Of all holidays for her to be leaving on.

"So, what do you want to do?"

"I was thinking of making that lasagna you like and staying in. Just you and me. How's that sound?"

Corey's heart nearly burst when he heard that. It was what he was hoping for.

"Perfect," he gushed with a wide smile that stayed on his face all the way to work.

"Then I'll see you later, alligator," Lauren replied cheerfully as she began doing dishes, seeming every bit like the scout leader and bingo caller she'd been for years. In fact, the June Cleaver look was only dashed once as she paused to wipe a bit of sticky white cum off her chin with a bent elbow.

That stuff can get everywhere!

+++++

"Charlie, can you grab me another stack of bands, please?" the overworked Randy Sandy's door girl at the entrance pleaded into her headset. Looping the last iridescent piece of paper around a young customer's wrist, ensuring the sticky ends held, she nodded for him to go through. The pretty Latino of Cuban descent laughed when the young man joined his waiting buddies with a hoop and a holler. It was nice to see people having a good time. Plus it gave her a chance to be off her feet.

"On it," came the youthful crackling response as the greeter smiled weakly at the ten or so other patrons waiting impatiently to get inside. All were eager to spend their money on nudity and overpriced watered-down drinks.

Within minutes, Charlie Weber had once again saved the day, showing up with two large bundles of bands.

"Busy for a Tuesday," the young man remarked as the girl sighed with relief. Typically, they didn't go through so many.

"Fleet's in, I suppose," she posited, wrapping another wrist as the twenty-dollar cover was paid.

"Charlie," the floor manager squawked in the networked Bluetooth system, "can you help Rita with the reader on station four? It's not taking swipes."

The twenty-one-year-old acknowledged the request and scampered off to the middle of the showroom, where the main bar and runway were. Such was the life of a strip club runner, scurrying here and there, helping where needed. Any given night would find him taking kitchen deliveries and inventory, gathering laundry from the talent, troubleshooting electronics, rearranging tables for bachelor parties, and setting up VIP rooms. The work was tough, but he was learning a lot about the business. And it kept him close to his forever crush, Chloe Ceallaigh, aka Autumn Breeze. Sometimes too close.

As Charlie replaced the faulty card reader and waited for the terminal to reboot, he was able to take a breath and looked around the room. Several of the talent were working the crowd for tips in various stages of dress with the real goal of selling private dances. It wasn't long before his eyes landed on a cute redhead cheerfully chatting up a group of middle-aged men. Chloe was quite busty, and wearing only a G-string did nothing to help the guys keep their focus on her eyes. Not that the rest of her wasn't beautiful, but her cantaloupe-sized breasts, still only twenty years old, sat high on her chest. Definitely a pair to behold. Those working in a gentleman's club, however, tended to get desensitized to nudity over time. In fact, Charlie no longer got chubs at the dancing or knowing what went on behind closed doors, the latter being something employees were strictly forbidden to watch or participate in. For many, it truly was just another day at the office. Except when it came to Chloe. While most men lusted after her body, it was the stripper's mind that he found most attractive. A shrewd businesswoman even at a tender age, she planned to use her God-given talents to retire by age thirty. By then, she figured, there would be diminishing returns on her assets. So why not cash in now?

Punching a passcode into the touch screen and nodding to the bartender that she was back in business, he turned to the table Chloe had been at just seconds ago, only to see her leading one of the bigger customers by hand to a VIP room in a narrow corridor off to the side. Just as she ducked behind a curtain guarded by a huge man with Security emblazoned on a yellow t-shirt, the roommates' eyes met. With a barely perceptible smile, Autumn Breeze disappeared, ready to make another guy's day.

His roommate.

Would they ever be more? Charlie mused. Could they ever be more? To be honest, it was difficult seeing her strip for men who didn't give two shits if she had a brain or not, watching them ogle her nubile assets night after night. And the lucky ones could afford a lap dance and perhaps something extra. The something he longed to do. He had decided a long time ago that things would be different if the pendulum ever did swing his way. He'd make it about her, not him, while making love to that wonderous mind as well as her luscious body.

"Charlie, can you help Jada? She's having a wardrobe malfunction and all the girls are busy."

"Be right there," the young man left the bar and headed towards the dressing room.

The dancers were always having issues with their outfits, most of them were so skimpy the material often broke and had to be mended on the fly. They didn't mind the young man fluttering around, even if it meant being in their space. He was very helpful, and after all, nude was nude, whether it be on stage or back. Plus, they all knew he only had eyes for one girl in the troupe.

Jada was fussing up a storm when Charlie got there but was able to calm her down, using a handy safety pin and some thread. All was good just as her name was announced to the waiting crowd, and she left the boy with a flirty 'thank you' and the imprint of lipstick lips on his cheek.

Never a dull moment, the kid grinned, exiting backstage and stepping onto the podium which housed the DJ booth. He like the vantage point because from there he could survey the entire room, scanning for any employee in need of help, which could range from cleaning up a spill to alerting security of a rowdy customer. Charlie had just exchanged small talk with deejay Em Cee Topper when the manager ordered the runner to VIP room six to change a flickering light.

"Probably a red twenty-watter. Should be two boxes in supply. Also, check the ceiling fan is working too, please. It's about shot."

Grabbing a bulb and a small step ladder from the closet, Charlie made his way across the floor to the VIP hallway, nodding pleasantly to the guard as he parted the curtain. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim blue light while walking past the individual rooms. This is where the girls made the big bucks, and it was of the utmost importance that they not be disturbed. Typically, the maintenance crew would care for this during off hours, but bulbs always went out during inopportune times. There were eight rooms, with six being near the back of the corridor. Although he didn't know which one - the girls usually just took what was open at the time - that didn't make it any easier knowing his Chloe was in one. Coming to a door with a simple black-on-white number 6 plaque attached to the frame, the boy sighed and went in. On the wall were four lights that softly bathed a futon and side table in a deep red glow. After replacing the flickering one, he flipped the switch on the fan several times before it started to rotate. Scraping noises rattled the ceiling as worn bearings showed signs of disintegration. Yep, time for a new one.

Finished, Charlie reentered the corridor and stood quietly. His boss would have surely yelled at him for not immediately leaving. But Chloe was just a few feet away, on the other side of one of those doors, doing what she gets paid to do. Pleasuring men for profit. His crotch twitched at the thought.

Her body hovering over a stranger's, gyrating to songs that they paid handsomely for.

Hands permitted to lightly touch fleshy hips as her bare nethers moistened, stopping just above tented pants. 

Christ, why did this excite him? He should be jealous and green with envy.

And he WAS. But it wasn't these alone; more like a mixture of weird ass feelings. Just like while watching her with the porn star, the whole idea was...well...fascinating. Okay, it was hot, so what? But why? Why did he get aroused at these things?

Men ogling her while dancing.

Staring at her tits and ass, wondering what it would be like to be with her.

It didn't make sense, but here he was, in the middle of a dark hall getting a hard-on, imagining what was going on behind...

Almost as if on cue, a door to one of the rooms opened, allowing red light from within to mix with the muted blue of the corridor. Out came Chloe with the same rotund client in tow, a bottle of water in her hands. She was swishing the cool liquid around in her mouth. The friends' eyes met briefly, acknowledging the other's presence. Charlie picked up the ladder and acted nonchalantly like he'd just been passing by rather than daydreaming. Keeping things professional, the redhead politely escorted the man back to his buddies and asked if anyone else wanted to have fun. When her roommate walked near the table, she pulled him aside and whispered.

"The promos from the film are done and ready to be reviewed."

"Um...okay?"

"They can't use them without me first approving. Jason makes sure he has that written into all contracts."

Charlie looked around the showroom and feigned disinterest. The prospect of reliving that day on the set was appealing but didn't want to show his hand. "So?"

The dancer fixed him with expectant puppy dog eyes. "They're online so we can do it together later at home. The shots are geared for guys, so I'd really like a guy's opinion."

Never in a million years would the young man ever say no to that face.

"Well, then, you're cooking and we're smoking your weed tonight," Charlie smiled carting off the ladder. "Bong, no skins."

+++++

Corey returned home that evening to find one-half of the garage full of packing boxes. Lauren had spent her day separating items they themselves were going to move. The current plan was to leave everything in place until the house sold, then rent a U-Haul. They'd learned over the years that certain things should not be entrusted to movers. What that meant, however, was that he had to leave his truck in the driveway. It didn't matter; he was planning on selling it anyway.

Later that night, after two helpings of her famous lasagna, they settled onto a two-person wooden glider on the deck, snuggling under an old soccer blanket. The cool Iowan night was brisk but tolerable, and the sky was clear, providing a view of the stars.

"We'll soon be looking at that moon off the coast," Lauren smiled, nestling her head against his shoulder. "Together."

"No regrets?" Corey asked.

"About what?"

"About anything."

"No, you?"

He pondered that for a second, then shook his head. "No."

"I think the move will do us good. Give us some pep in our step."

Corey studied his hand pensively. "What about Zane?"

"What about him?"

That got her a 'c'mon' look.

Lauren rubbed her husband's pudgy tummy. "He's been our friend for years. Like you, I love him in that sense. We can't just turn that friendship off. It wouldn't be right. And he's your best bud, for God's sake."

"You're obviously attracted to him. That changes things."

"Well...yeah...not gonna lie, he's great in the sack," she smiled, then put a finger on his nose. "But he's not you. Nobody will ever be you. You are my rock. My constant. I can throw all sorts of shit at you and you always stand tall."

"Like sleeping around so much?"

Lauren stopped stroking his neck and lifted her head with an odd expression. "Let's remember who..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I started it. You just seem to be..."

"Enjoying the pass? Does that bother you? Not once have you asked me to stop."

"No."

Wishing to avoid an argument on their last day together, Corey changed the subject. He reached into a jacket pocket and handed her a small package with a smile. "If I was mad at you, would I have gotten you this?"

Lauren's eyes lit up at the blue jewelry box. Tiffany's signature case.

"What is it?"

"Just a little something. Happy Valentine's Day. You can't take flowers or candy on the plane tomorrow, so..."

Carefully, she unwrapped the bow and removed the box top. Inside, a heart-shaped gold locket and chain shone back at her in the moonlight.

"Oh my God, it's wonderful!"

"Open it."

Pressing a small lever, the two halves of the heart swung open, revealing a tiny photo of the couple from their wedding, carefully dissected so each smiled back from a side.

Lauren began tearing up, throwing appreciative arms around Corey's neck. "You're so good to me."

"A rock."

The flood waters came; she just couldn't help it. "Yes, yes, yes, a rock," the tears flowed openly now. "A great big giant mountain!"

Content, all apprehension melted away as Mr. Granite bent down and kissed the beautiful girl in his arms. One kiss turned into more, and soon they were making out like teenagers parked on Lover's Lane. Finally, coming up for air, Lauren stood and pulled him out of the glider.

"Come...make love to me."

+++++

"How about this one"? Chloe asked, taking a hit from a glass water pipe and passing it to Charlie. It was nearly ten o'clock and the two friends had grabbed a pizza before coming back to the two-bedroom apartment they shared. Now they were sprawled out on the living room floor using the cheap coffee table to view the pics on a laptop.

Less interested in the weed than the photo on the screen, he set it down. Only five pics into their review and the young man had a raging hardon which he was desperately trying to conceal. The current snap showed her poolside on top of Jason, looking directly at the camera with an 'oh my' expression. Below, the redhead's pussy was next to the base of his large cock, while the shaft lay outside against her waist, it's head nearly to her navel. The idea clearly was to show how deep it would go once inside.

A stirring in Charlie's loins confirmed the sexual tension in the room. Fuck.

Chloe gauged the boy's reaction and selected 'approve' with a smile. As they perused the online gallery, approving and rejecting, the titillation factor could not be overstated. Despite his attempt at hiding it, she was distinctly aware of the ever-present erection. Is this what I was hoping for? the dancer questioned herself. Is this the response I secretly wanted when asking him for help?

It didn't matter how cheesy or overacted the photographs were, Charlie was definitely affected. If the promos' purpose was to entice potential customers to buy videos, they certainly hit the mark. Some would be sold to the few remaining print magazines that advertised pornos, regardless of their hilarity and campness.

"Oh, Honey, what are you doing?" Charlie mimicked the porn film's dialogue as pot smoke poured from his mouth. "Millie, he's my boss for God's sake!"

"Oh yes!" the fiery redhead chimed in. "He can boss me around any day!"

The pair fell about laughing. Neither had discussed the porno she'd costarred in just days ago, not even on the way back from the elaborate mansion. It was kind of an unwritten rule; never discuss business. Whether it be stripping or escort work. This was partially because neither wanted to bring up the elephant in the room: their feelings for each other. And making fun of the script was a welcome distraction to that.

"My wife has another man's penis in her mouth, oh no!"

Chloe playfully punched him in the arm. "Oh my GOD, Mr. Johnson, what are you doing?"

If Charlie's dick hadn't been hard since seeing her emerge from the VIP room earlier with that fat slob, it was goddamn steel right then.

"Millie, PLEASE," he cackled.

"Oh, I'm sure he will please me, unlike your pathetic cock!" the stripper pushed him down to the carpet, tickling him without mercy. "That's it! Fuck me, Mr. Johnson. Fuck me like my wimp of a husband can't."

"Stop, stop, I'm gonna pee!" Charlie called out, holding her by the waist as she straddled him.

Without thinking, Chloe slid her crotch along his board shorts, encountering quite the lump. It was the first time in their long friendship they'd been in that position.

"Jesus Christ, perv, you're hard as shit!"

"AM NOT!"

"The fuck you're not. You've never been like this and you've seen my tits and pussy a hundred times at the club."

"You've never had sex in front of me before, either have you?"

The redhead stopped and let go. He had a point.

"It was just sex. There was no emotion."

Charlie gently pushed her off and sat up straight. "No emotion, huh? Was that no emotion I saw when you were riding him but looking at me? At me. You felt nothing?"

She knew he had seen the same thing in her eyes she'd seen in his. Lust and concupiscence. Perhaps even...love.

Turning back to the laptop, the amateur porn star began flipping through more photos.

"I saw it, you know."

The boy peeked over her shoulder. "Saw what?"

"This," she said, patting his still-hard tent. "While you were watching."

He gulped. It was the first time she'd ever touched him there. "Well...it was kinda hot."

"What does that mean?" Chloe asked, stopping on a pic of her mouth around Jason's cock. She clicked "approve" and leaned into Charlie's chest, the smell of testosterone filling her nostrils.

"I don't know," he replied softly, "I guess I wanted to be him."

The small bubble butt pressed into his pelvis.

"You did?" the dancer gasped.

A low moan emanated from the young man's lips. "Yes."

"You wanted your cock in my pussy?"

"I'm sorry, Chlo, I know I shouldn't."

The dancer's eyes shut as Charlie's hands caressed her quivering sides, slowly making their way to that hefty chest. He took his time, afraid she'd react like once before when he immediately got friend-zoned.

Might it be different this time? 

This put Chloe in a bad position. It wasn't that she didn't find him attractive or enjoy his company. They were best friends, soulmates even. But time and time again she'd seen her coworkers date men who simply could not handle romancing a sex worker. It took a particular kind of guy to tolerate that kind of career and there weren't many around. One with a fetish that prescribed their women making it with other men. Like the kink that Lauren Miller's husband had.

The young man's lips were on her neck now, fingers of one hand lightly dancing on her breast, the other massaging a very fat cameltoe beneath her terrycloth boy shorts.

"You got off on seeing me with Jason, Chaz?"

The silence spoke volumes.

"And at the club? Do you enjoy seeing me take off my clothes for pleasure?"

"Of course, you're gorgeous."

Charlie switched to the other side of her neck, nipping at her ears. Her moans began to blend with his.

"Could you handle men using me as their plaything?"

"I..."

"As their whore?"

"I...I..."

The exotic dancer was testing him now, of course. Chloe, if nothing else, was a well-read courtesan. She knew the signs of a potential cuckold. Might that be a good fit for her Charlie?

"Driving me to my escort clients and waiting outside while they do all sorts of bad things to me? You know what happens during my dates, right? They destroy my pussy, just like Jason did."

"Jesus, I...I just..."

"Could YOU fuck me, baby? Fuck me after a hard day at work? A day of being a dirty, filthy cum bucket?"

"Oh GOD, Chloe, please...I DON'T KNOW!" Charlie cried out, holding her tight. "I don't know, I just don't know."

Chloe's shoulders drooped in disappointment.

"Are you sure you don't know?" she whispered, like a child whose hopes of getting a coveted toy at the store are fading fast. Exhaling heavily, the stripper damned her own integrity. Taking the young man's love and nurturing it would have been good for her, but disastrous for him. She simply wouldn't ruin the friendship they already had for a few precious moments in bed. It wouldn't be fair. Wriggling out of Charlie's grasp, a tear formed in one eye and ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I can't. I just can't. I don't want to hurt you."

With that, the redhead grabbed the laptop and ran to her room, letting the door slam behind her.

Charlie sat on the floor of the tiny apartment stunned, his dick throbbing against his shorts. He could hear her sobbing, but there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. Twice he'd taken a shot and twice shot down. While this was the closest the boy had ever gotten, the love he had for the girl remained unrequited.

Shaking his head, he crawled up on their old sofa and fired up another bowl. He lay there for a long time staring at the ceiling until the flower helped him drift off into yet another fitful sleep.

+++++

"Go on, babe," Lauren smiled coyly, "lay down."

Having had enough of the Des Moines chill, the longtime couple found themselves in bed now, naked as the day they were born. Feeling the effects of three beers, two shots of whiskey, and a bottle of wine, the graying sixty-one-year-old obeyed, his aging and weathered body trembling under her touch. Although the last few months had given her a greater appreciation for more athletic penises, it was with love, not lust, that Lauren worked her magic fingers now, massaging the increasingly wrinkled skin on his calves and thighs. While the dark-haired vixen very much enjoyed bringing those studs to a raucous orgasm, nothing was as satisfying as seeing the man she loved writhe with anticipation. Especially when her ruby-red lips descended over his twitching dick.

"Picking up where you left off this morning?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"Mmmpfffft."

Cupping the weak nutsack, Lauren easily swallowed the entire shaft, nose flinching at wiry pubic hairs, poking, scratching. The balls on younger men were much more masculine, the flesh taut and alive. By no fault of his own, of course, but Corey's had been sagging for years now, gravity having its way.

"Damn, that's...that's...sooooo good."

"Mmm, I know, lover."

Slowly, his flaccid dick was coming to life, but these days it needed more help than ever. Carefully, Lauren swung her hips over Corey's head, lowering her bald labia onto his face. The scene in the mirror over the dresser reflected the efforts of the beautiful brunette. As the skin of her ass cheeks grazed his forehead, she noticed the sturdiness of her still lithe body, abs, and hourglass figure kept tight by daily trips to the gym. In contrast, she looked out over her much older husband as she wrapped and tied off the black mane of hair atop her head. Up until eight months ago, it had been the only male body she'd known since marrying, and been contented with it in the thirty years they'd been together. Now, with his insistence, she'd found the intemperance of other men.

Still, the sixty-nine she was about to treat her husband to was done out of pure love. What else could make her enthusiastic as she bent over, hands traversing the senescent loose folds and skin tags, beginning with his jiggly man-boobs, over a pudgy tummy, passed a rippled and expanding waistline?

With manufactured gusto, she began bobbing her head up and down on his struggling manhood, hoping to get it hard enough for penetration. She so WANTED to give him the fuck he was always begging for. The one he deserved.

But...Jesus...give me something to work with.

Corey groaned while lapping at her shaved lips, his tongue darting in and out of the watering slit. Lauren moaned too. She couldn't lie, it felt good. Not Zane or Alex or Tony good, but good. Whether that night was going to be great was anyone's guess, but it didn't matter. Tonight wasn't about her.

"That's it, hon, eat my pussy. Let me feel it."

Corey obliged, spreading the butterfly wide and slurping the juices that continually flowed out of the pink hole. He'd lap it up, just for it to be immediately replaced by more. The joy he felt as his wife sat on his face was indescribable, and yet, as enjoyable as her nectar was, he wanted his cock in there too, as it had been a thousand times before.

But wasn't that when it was hard and proud and virile? When I could give her a good seeing too without resorting to toys? Christ, even now with the sight of her sex staring him in the face, he was having difficulty getting it up. The damage that did to a man's psyche was indescribable and very damning.

It was a fact that did not escape Lauren. Surfacing from a particularly long deep dive, she gasped, a bit of saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

"Almost there, babe," she licked the bottom of his shaft. "Then you'll be able to fuck me. You do want to fuck me, right? I'll let you. All night long."

Well, or ten minutes, whichever comes first.

"I'm trying," Corey blurted out, cursing his doctor for refusing to prescribe helpers. Something about a contradiction with his high blood pressure. Surely a heart attack would be more welcome than not being able to make love to one's wife.

Sighing, but not yet ready to throw in the towel, Lauren switched things up. Corey protested as she removed her warm ass from his face, leaving it sticky and gleaming, and moved beside him. Slowly closing fingers around the vertically challenged dick, she began stroking him with a steady rhythm, while her other hand went to his chest. Grinning, she let the back of it lightly touch one nipple, then the other, knuckles teasing the nubs to hardness. Many decades together had taught her what he liked, and this was a favorite. Rigid now, she let her nails tease the hairy areolae until his pectorals hardened in that way that men with man-boobs do when excited. As his breathing deepened and he squirmed beneath her touch, the budding cuckoldress knew she had him exactly where she wanted him.

"C'mon, Twisty, get hard for me."

The embattled penis jumped.

"That's right. I want this cock in me right now. I want to feel it in my wet cunt. Can you do that for me?"

The nervous project manager nodded bleakly, not at all sure if he - or it - was up to the task.

Goddamn wine.

"You don't want me to call Zane to finish the job, do you?"

Corey shook his head rapidly back and forth. "No, no, no."

"Then DO IT, baby, get it up. Get hard for your whore wife. I need to get fucked soooo badly!"

"Yes, yes. I will."

"Will you? Or should I get a real man over here? Maybe Toby and Sean are available to finish what I started at Zane's."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I? They know what a slut I am now, so why not? Yes, that's right, your best friends know your little wife is a whore. And, believe me, Toby felt like he had a lot to offer."

"OH FUCK!" Corey slammed the back of his head into a pillow while his hips lifted about four inches off the mattress. "Please...please!"

"Please what? Please call them? They enjoyed seeing my breasts, I could see it in their eyes. That's right, all those years of staring at me behind your back. Leering at me while you weren't looking. Wondering at cookouts what my itty-bitty titties looked like beneath those tank tops and halters. Well, now they know, don't they?"

Lauren squeezed one of his droopy pecs. It felt like what she imagined a nun's tit would.

"DON'T THEY?"

"OW...yes!"

"Now they can tell your other friends how slutty your wife is. How she nearly paid her debt with her willing mouth."

She could feel the blood surge to the newly invigorated cock in her hand. It was pulsating hard.

Corey grit his teeth, gasping for air as she laid it on thicker, fingering a bumpy nipple that sent bolts of lightning to his hardening dick.

"I should've just fucked 'em there and got it over with."

"NO!"

"Why not, YOU sure the hell can't get me off, can you cuck? You need other men to satisfy your wife."

"OHHHHHH nooooo."

"I can still do it, you know. Leave Iowa with a bang," Lauren laughed manically, "literally...one big bang, all your buddies doing me!"

"GOD HELP ME!"

Leaning over, she put her nose on his, causing the bun to fall, allowing all that perfumed black hair to cascade about them like a cloak.

"Speaking of God, perhaps I should pay Pastor Adams a visit. He always had an eye for my ass, you know."

"What?

"Uh-huh. I used to see him, watching me bend over as I put the kid's coats on after service. He sure the hell wasn't smiling at them. Maybe he can lift my pretty little Sunday dress and put the Holy Spirit in me."

"WHY LAUR, WHY? Why have you become such a tramp?"

"WHY?"

Corey's eyes grew as big as saucers as he saw her demeanor change in a flash. Noses touching, Lauren went off, spittle flying everywhere,

"BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS TO FUCK ME, YOU PATHETIC GODDAMN CUCK. YOU'RE HARDLY WORTH THE TIME!"

It came quickly and without warning. The only thing the couple remembered later was Corey erupting into an unprecedented rage, throwing her onto her back and forcing her legs open. There was some pain at first, but that gave way to wave after wave of pleasure for both as he drove - no, stabbed - his engorged cock into her dripping pussy. Meeting each thrust with her hips, Lauren stared deeply into his eyes, fingers tearing at his short gray hair, begging for more.

"That's it, CUCK! I know what makes you tick. Now do me, babe, make me cum. PLEASE MAKE ME CUM!"

The bed began to shake as the couple fucked with no restraint. This was not making love; they were simply two animals humping in the woods in a tempestuous coupling. Wrapping her legs around his tubby waist, she squeezed and tightened her grip.

"GIVE...IT...TO...ME...TWISTY!"

"UMPFFFFFF!" Corey bellowed, "FUCKING WHORE!"

"YES YES YES!" Lauren responded with her head thrown back. "I am your whore, nothing but a filthy, nasty slut!"

"OH GAWWWWD!"

It had barely been a minute, but both knew he was close.

"GIVE ME YOUR LOVE, BABY, GIVE ME ALL YOUR LOVE!"

The grunts from above told her he needed just a little more help.

"Pastor Adams...staring at me from the pulpit...me spreading my legs from the pew...revealing the promised land."

"OH FUCK!"

"Bible class, Sunday school, bending me over his desk, showing me the way..."

"GOOD GOD!"

"YES YES! His God. Fucking me in the name of the Father... Son...and the Holy Fucking Ghost!"

"SHIT LAUREN!"

"DO ME, TWISTY, CUM IN MY FORSAKEN SLUT CUNT!"

"NAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NNNNNNNNGGGGGAAHHHHHHH!"

Suddenly everything stopped, frozen in time as Corey unloaded in Lauren's love canal, the weight of his body crushing her as those lovely muscles tightened around his dick, squeezing out every drop the older man could muster. She waited as long as she could without breathing before tapping out, begging him to roll off.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, wheezing in recovery. But the apology wasn't for smothering. "I lasted as long as I could."

Lauren held her sides and chest, massaging her skin where most of his mass had been pressing down on her oppressively. Smiling feebly, she assured him with as much sincerity as possible that their lovemaking had been really special. Corey knew it was lies but felt good just the same because in a way she was right. Simply being together, and sharing their love, was, given the circumstances, extraordinary in itself. And soon, very soon, they would be together forever.

As her husband drifted off to sleep, Lauren was happy to leave him with those pleasant thoughts. She had worked hard to learn the ways of a good cuckoldress. Online research, reading articles, conversing in forums. Even watching the ridiculous porn. Of course, she wished it could be different. Wished that Corey could be as well-equipped as his best friend, or at least have half the stamina of the men she'd met. But that was not reality, so Lauren had to make lemonade out of lemons. And judging from the man now lying next to her snoring, she'd done a pretty good job at getting him off.

Now it was her turn. Clutching an old two-speed bullet found while cleaning the house that day, reflections of recent trysts flowed through her consciousness. Pauly, Zane, and the plethora of cock she'd be returning to in just twenty-four hours caused her to moan repeatedly, mixing with the steady hum of the vibrator. With the tip of the plastic toy brushing against her unsatisfied button, thoughts of bone-shattering climaxes recently experienced, as well as those in her future, fueled her towards yet another. Jax...Tommy...Alex...so many memories peppered her body with pleasure as thoughts of them pounding her into oblivion brought her to a surging climax.

As her orgasm subsided and she switched off the dildo, Lauren cuddled with Corey and lay in his arms, one hand on his graying chest while it rose and fell.

Oh, how she loved this man! 

But Miami? Truly the Magic City. Moving there was the best thing they could have done. Yes, it catapulted them into a new lifestyle. Yes, that lifestyle had caused them some drama. Yes, there had been some arguments. But it had also invigorated their monotonous, humdrum routine. Given an edge to their marriage and a spark to their sex life. True, Corey couldn't last any longer than he did before, but at least it was somewhat exciting now. No more just him grunting once and cumming. At least she could tease, manipulate and enable his enjoyment, which in itself gave her satisfaction. And she? She was able to enjoy sex again, even if by proxy.

How could any of that be a bad thing?

=======================================
Wednesday, February 14th. Eight days to go.
=======================================

"Trans American Airlines paging passenger Michael Andrews. Please proceed to gate nine, your flight is waiting. Mike Andrews, gate nine please, this is your last call."

Half expecting to see OJ sprinting through the concourse, Lauren sat patiently, gazing out over the tarmac at Des Moines International. Her mid-morning flight was still projected to leave on time, although predicted pre-dawn flurries had turned into moderate snowfall.

I'll take eighty-five-degree temps any day.

Just as she opened a browser on her phone to check email, it rang with a smiling picture of her oldest friend Gail Weathersby filling the screen. Lauren hesitated before accepting the call, knowing she was likely going to get chewed out. Gail did not disappoint.

"So, you're in town for a whole week and don't think about calling me, huh? What the fuck?"

"Hi, Gail. I'm sorry. I came back for the reunion, then Corey and I were packing. Time got away."

"Uh-huh. I had to find out you were here from Judy, you know. And she through Toby. That's not right."

Lauren winced. Just as she suspected. Toby had mentioned seeing her.

What ELSE had he told his wife?

"Did, eh...did Judy say anything else?"

Like me teasing her man?

"No, not really. Why? She just said you were over at Zane's when the boys were watching the fight the other night."

Sighing with relief, Lauren tried to change the subject. "I'm sorry I didn't call you. I promise we'll get together whenever the house sells. I'll need to come back anyway and help Corey move some stuff down."

"Good, make sure you do."

The two women sat in silence, which grew more pregnant with each passing second.

"Laur?" Gail finally said, trepidation in her voice.

Lauren tensed. She could almost feel what was coming.

"Yes?"

"Why are you fucking Zane?"

It was a fishing expedition, but the lengthy pause confirmed the friend's suspicion.

"Gail!"

"It's a legit question and not a stretch. Zane may have some miles on him but he's still hot. You did go with him to that ceremony in Bakersfield and spent the night."

"We were in separate hotels."

"Oh yeah? Did housekeeping need to change the sheets in YOUR hotel room the next morning?"

More silence.

"Uh-huh. Thought so. He let it slip, you know."

"What? Who?"

"Zane. At Clancy's. He and Corey were drunk, and Zane got pissed. Not sure why, but he shouted out something about fucking you. Like, everybody heard about it."

Why would he do that? Lauren thought. Feeling a headache coming on, she began rubbing her forehead. "Gail..."

"Look, there's no denying it now. You were over at Zane's and in his arms when Toby and Sean showed up. What more is there to know? So, how's Corey taking it? I feel sorry for him. Pretty torn up, is he?"

The rub turned into rolling eyes. Clearly, you do not know my husband these days.

"He's coping."

"Will you split up? After selling the house, I bet? That's probably the best, you know, just split it down the middle."

"Gail, listen..."

"What's he going to do? Stay in Iowa?"

"Gail..."

"Guess he can't quit his job now..."

"GAIL!"

Abrupt dead air. With a deep breath, Lauren slowly exhaled. "You need to understand. He's cool with it."

"Cool with what? Exactly what's that supposed to mean?"

The overwrought wife let the statement sink in with her oblivious friend.

Eventually, Gail came around. "Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. NO! Really? Just how long have you guys been swingers? How the hell did I not know?"

Lauren pinched her forehead. "Um...we're not exactly...swingers."

"Too bad, Corey's kind of cute and all."

"GAIL!"

"Hey, what did I say? I mean, if everybody's fucking everybody else..."

"Everyone is NOT fucking everyone else."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The phone vibrated in Lauren's ear, catching her off guard. Pulling it away, she saw Chloe was calling.

"Hey, I've got to take this. I promise I'll look you up when I come back, okay? Until then, can you keep our conversation private?"

"You know me, I can keep a secret."

Lauren smiled. That's what I'm worried about. Switching to the other line, she went from frustrated to cheery in a split second. It wasn't hard to do when talking to the exotic dancer.

"Hi, Chloe!"

Looking at the time, she noticed it was way too early for a sex worker. "What gets you up at this hour?"

The redhead sounded tired and cranky. "Haven't slept at all."

"Why?"

"I need your help. Well, more like your husband's help."

"Corey? How?"

"It's Charlie. We almost fucked last night."

Remembering what the stripper had said about her volatile relationship with the young man, she bit her lip. "Is that good or bad?"

"I...I don't know."

It was clear the girl was trying to find the right words.

"Good, I guess. I mean, I want to, I really do. He's everything I want in a guy, it's just that..."

"You don't want to lose him."

"He's my best friend. It might be good for a while, but what if there are feelings? Real feelings? Men can't handle what I do. They always leave."

"How do you know that? You're only twenty."

"I'M OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW WHAT I SEE!" Chloe exclaimed on the verge of tears. "The older girls, they lose guys all the time. THEY JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT!"

"Whoa, slow down. I didn't mean to imply you were wrong. But how do you know Charlie would leave?"

"I don't for sure."

More sniffles.

"I guess that's why I'm calling. Until this week, I thought he was just tolerating what I do, you know, to stay friends. But Monday he went to a shoot with me and stayed for the filming."

Lauren's brow raised. "He watched?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He got off on it. I could see it in his eyes. Like I saw in Corey's."

The women remembered the night with Jax and Corey when the three of them cucked the grimacing husband hard. 'Now you know what your whore wife does with her free time, cuck,' the redhead had humiliated Corey while she sat on his dick, both watching the gigolo give it to Lauren.

"So, one day maybe more is now?"

"I don't know."

"Where does Corey come in?"

"They could be cut from the same cloth, you know? Charlie's just realizing it much younger."

Lauren and Amy had taken to hanging out at Randy Sandy's and certainly had seen how the boy looked at the stripper.

"Did the club trigger this? All the leering men?"

Chloe sniffled again. "Probably. It wouldn't be the first time. That, and chauffeuring me to client dates. God knows what he did while waiting for me in parking lots."

Recalling how Corey had sat outside Pauly's fraternity house when they were still single and jerked off, Lauren could empathize.

"I have a pretty good idea."

"Attention passengers. Oceanic Airlines flight 2071 to Miami International will begin boarding in five minutes. Please have your boarding pass available to scan as you board. Thank you."

"Listen, my flight is boarding. I'll be talking to Corey later. Let me ask him if he minds Charlie calling him, okay?"

Lauren could hear the younger woman trying to compose herself. Finally, she took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Cool. I have to go now."

"Lauren?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for being a friend."

"Hey, you and Charlie rescued me from myself before, remember? We have each other's backs now, right?"

"Lauren?"

The older woman looked nervously at the line starting to form in front of the boarding bridge.

"Yes, Chloe?"

"I love you."

Lauren's heart could have melted right there, leaving a puddle on the gate floor. Her crush on the sexy redhead produced a pang of longing between her legs that suddenly reappeared. Even as the carry-on bag swung over her shoulder, memories of making love to the redhead caused a bit of moisture to form in otherwise dry panties.

Good God, she couldn't WAIT to get back to Miami.

+++++

"Hey, Ace, can you take a look at that Adventure in the morning?"

Zane Picardo glanced at the BMW motorcycle sitting just inside one of the garage doors, then back at his boss.

"Sure. What's its story? You want me to look now?"

"Timing's messed up and no, I can't afford to pay you fucks overtime, I've told you that."

The star mechanic nodded and punched out, sliding his timecard back in its slot by the clock. "Right. First thing."

Outside, the biker turned his leather jacket's collar to the stiff chilly breeze and began walking to a nearby watering hole to get a couple of shots in him before braving the shitty weather astride Bessy. Cursing, he swore he'd have a ride with four wheels before next winter.

"Hi, Zane."

"The fuck?" Zane spun around, hands clenched, startled to see Corey standing under an awning of an abandoned storefront. "Jesus, dude, don't do that. That's the second time this week you almost got popped. You gotta stop sneaking around."

The older man nodded. Where had he heard that before?

"Sorry. I know you come here for a drink after work."

"So?"

"Can I buy a round?"

Picardo looked up and down the street at nothing in particular, surprised at his own uncertainty. Never had he passed up a free drink or hesitated tossing back one with a friend. Of course, he didn't make a habit of fucking friends' wives, either.

"Uh, sure, why not?"

Shaking off the cold, the two settled in at a table in the back. Definitely a dive, Corey ordered two whiskeys from a not-unattractive waitress in a three-quarters-length Jack Daniels tee.

"What brings you here, Cors?" Zane asked, still a bit uncomfortable from the recent odd encounter with Lauren and his pal.

"Just wanted to say I'm sorry...for sneaking into your house."

"Yeah, that was fucked up, bro. You put me and Laur in a bad spot, you dig? I mean, I had every right to blow your head off, but then that would've just come back on me and her."

Corey frowned. "Not following."

"Yeah? Really? C'mon dude, you know how cops are. Husband killed in home of friend who was fucking said husband's wife. Not a good optic, right? Especially since said husband and wife are essentially separated and house is up for sale? Real reasons don't matter to cops, man. Circumstances do. And even if they eventually believed us, that's a lot of shit to make us go through."

Fuck. "I didn't think of that."

"You're not thinking a lot these days, are you? I know this whole thing you and Lauren got going has you all twisted up inside, but you can't just burgle somebody's house to get your kink on. The next guy could pull the trigger."

Corey stared at his hands as the waitress brought the drinks.

"You're right. About all of it. I suck."

The mechanic looked at the older man with sympathy. While he couldn't fully understand his friend's fetish, he still had compassion for whatever he was going through. The guy was his best friend after all.

"Don't be so melodramatic, boss. Listen, you and Laur got a...a thing, right? And make no mistake, whatever you got she's caught some of it too. You both need to learn control. And for you...that means if she's going out and you're not invited, let her the fuck go. If she loves you...and she does...she'll come back. You want to watch? Fuckin' ask. Don't go hiding in the closet of a gun owner, okay?"

"Yeah."

The men drank their whiskey in silence. Zane finished first and ordered another round.

"Besides, we came at you pretty hard with all that cuck shit. But you gotta understand, my man, I only did what Lauren said you liked."

The biker could see in Corey's eyes that she was right.

"And that whole outing you in the bar..."

"It's...it's...fine. At least it wasn't my coworkers or boss. That's the one thing I don't think I could handle."

"That would be fucking rough. What about Toby and Sean?"

"They know?"

"About your thing? I don't think so. But they damn sure know I've been with her."

"That's unfortunate. I guess they see her how she really is now."

"Now is the key word there," Zane pointed out. "Let's face facts. She usen't be that way. Until you turned her out, that is. I dunno, maybe she always had some suppressed sluttinesss. Hell, I think all chicks do. But all that would've gone to the grave with her had you not started pushing. Now you gotta deal with the creature you created. Either accept it or kill it."

Picardo cringed as those last words fell from his mouth and was quick to clarify. "Not literally."

Corey sighed. "I know what you mean."

"Good," the biker smiled at fresh drinks from the waitress. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're gonna do your thing then fuckin' embrace it. Don't go moping around all the time and act all depressed. Feel it. Use it. Get off on it. But own it. You only live once, dude."

That put a half-smile on the older man's face. Zane handed him one of the whiskeys and hoisted the other.

"To kinky shit."

Both men threw back the two-finger pour in a single swig.

"Oh, by the way," the biker wiped his mouth on a sleeve as the burn tore up his throat. "You walk into my house again unannounced without bringing beer or weed and you're leaving in a goddamn box, you hear?"

======================================
Thursday, February 15th. Seven days to go.
======================================

"First stop?" CEO Stephan Jones asked as he ducked passed the limo driver and into the spacious backseat of the company limousine. He landed on his rump with a groan, his seventy-four-year-old body protesting.

"Tulane Marinas in Keystone at ten," Lauren followed him into the vehicle, hunching over. As she did, her cream-colored pointy-collared satin blouse fell away from her chest, revealing the small B-cup bra beneath. Not much to look at, but enough to catch the eye of the old man and Jules the driver, who in turn just smirked. Employed to drive official Rekrap motor vehicles for over ten years now, he'd grown to appreciate Jones as the pervert he was.

"Followed by a noon at Port au Erva, near Pelican Harbor," the bright office manager continued. "Then on to Sunny Isles for a two o'clock."

"A full day then," Jones remarked as they settled into long, plush couch-like seats opposite each other. "Let's get started."

As the sleek black Cadillac pulled from the curb, Lauren gave her boss the low-down on each company and what they knew about them. Rekrap had been wanting to expand ownership in marinas for over a year now, and with renewed contracts in place with other consortiums - some successfully brokered by Lauren herself - the monolith now had the cash flow in place to make a move. The three being visited that day had been severely damaged by recent hurricanes and were struggling to recover. Owner propensity to sell could be at an all-time high.

After the quick briefing, the pair fell silent, catching up on email or looking out the window. Lauren thought back to that morning and the orchids which had been waiting for her at the concierge desk on her way back from the gym.

Happy Valentine's Day with all my love. Corey.

Filled with love and wishing he was there, she had sent him a brief text thanking him for the flowers and assuring him it would be the last lover's holiday they'd be apart.

Gliding along Biscayne Boulevard on the way to Keystone, an occasional pothole jarred them out of their own thoughts. Several times Lauren caught Stephan looking at her, expressionless at first, but smiling oddly when their eyes met.

Dirty old man, she chuckled to herself. That old battle-axe wife of his probably hasn't put out in twenty years. Dismissing the leers, the junior executive leaned back into the seat. Crossing her legs seductively, she allowed the hem of her gray pencil skirt to rise even further, exposing fine black hosiery that disappeared tantalizingly between her thighs. So let him look.

As a business negotiator, Lauren had mad skills, even without having to resort to more...direct methods of persuasion. Her understanding of their core market substantially impressed Jones by the time Jules pointed the limo southward to Rekrap Headquarters after the last meeting of the day. Now it was just a matter of deciding on the right marina. Facing each other on the soft bench seats, Stephan poured two glasses of wine from a small bottle he found in the mini-fridge.

"You did well," he remarked, handing her one. "Let's get the discussions written up and presented to the board by Wednesday."

Leaning over to clink a toast, Lauren nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. I'll have a draft to you by Monday afternoon." Knowing she had employed a little flirting to soften up a couple of the owners, she added, "I hope I didn't cross any boundaries."

"Nonsense. All's fair in love and war. And make no mistake. Big business is war. Besides," Jones chuckled, "I think those lines were crossed with Detrevrup and Polymer Thermoset, don't you?"

Lauren knew full well he was aware of exactly how she got Stretch Madison and Angel Tagliatelle to sign contract extensions. Several more miles and sips went by before summoning the courage to ask what was really on her mind.

"So, while we're on the subject, have I proven myself worthy of Jose's Operations vacancy?"

Jones took another drink and smacked his lips. "Hmm, great wine. I didn't know we were on the subject."

"That's not an answer."

Stephan poured them both another glass and looked at his junior matter-of-factly. "Honestly? Yes, you have the chops. You're smart, engaged, and take ownership of everything you touch. And yet, any VP at my table needs to have discretion."

"I don't?"

"Did you during the audit prep?"

Lauren looked surprised. "Audit prep? What's that have to do with anything?"

Jones fixed her with an amused stare. "At the Hotel Majestic. More specifically, the garage of the Hotel Majestic."

She suddenly remembered the tryst with the Turkish salesman in his rental...and the mature couple that had happened by. For just a few seconds, the older gentlemen had paused and leered.

"You," her mouth fell open. "It was you."

"What can I say? They have a great duck on Thursdays. Although the special on level P2 looked better. But the point is not my palette nor what you do on your own time. It's your discretion. Do what you want but do it behind closed doors. I could have easily been someone you work with, especially those in the rank and file who would love to get dirt on their boss. People have blackmailed others for less."

Lauren stared out the window. "Your right," she admitted, "it won't happen again."

"It mustn't."

"I promise, I'll be more careful."

Emptying the bottle of red wine into his glass, the old man leaned over and placed a hand on his sexy manager's knee, fingers lightly caressing it through dark nylon. The sudden touch startled her, forcing her eyes away from the scenery outside to his boney knuckles. He nodded towards the front of the limo.

"You could start by proving your understanding now."

At first, she wasn't quite sure what that meant. Following her boss's gaze to Jules who was busy expertly navigating traffic, it took a minute for the meaning to sink in. As it became clear, Lauren leaned over to a panel housing a switch that read 'Partition Up' and pressed it. Almost immediately a soundproof screen began to rise from the floorboard, separating the rear seating from the front. This was followed by the driver's voice.

"Everything okay, sir?"

"Yes, yes, fine," Stephan barked back, never taking his eyes off the darkness between Lauren's knees. "Take the long way back to the office, please."

"Of course, sir."

Hoo boy, that's really discrete Hoss, she thought rolling her eyes. There was no doubt the old man wanted to play a little; the problem was...his wife.

"Why, Mr. Jones, you're married. I don't mess with married men."

"That's very noble of you, my lady. But do most married men sign your paycheck? Besides, she hasn't touched me in years."

Can I call 'em or what?

Setting her drink down, Lauren returned his stare and slowly began to separate her knees until the tight skirt and hosiery stopped any further widening. Unzipping the side provided a little additional room, just enough to lift her ass from the cushion and wiggle the material up to her waist. While her boss ogled the exposed nylon and panty-covered crotch, she proceeded to rub it for several minutes until a wet spot appeared in the cotton briefs and the aroma of her juices filled the car.

"Let me see it," Stephan sat forward, eyeballs bulging. "Show me." For over half a year, the chief executive had watched the gamy woman waddle around the office in professional yet sexy clothing, wondering what she looked like naked. And now here her beaver was nearly exposed in front of him.

Using one hand to pull the hosiery away, Lauren used the other to ease the panties to one side, causing her labia to present a very visible and shiny cameltoe.

"It's beautiful," the CEO gasped, unsurprised to see the smooth lips. She always struck him as a slut.

Glancing at the driver, Lauren could see through the one-way screen that he was still engrossed in battling other drivers, completely oblivious to what was happening in the back.

You want discretion, huh? 

"Come here," the office manager beckoned.

Jones struggled a bit but was eventually able to slide to the floorboard, his old kneecaps trembling with discomfort. Lauren placed her hand on the back of his head and guided it between her legs. Nose inches from her aromatic treasure, he sniffed the hosiery, noting the wetness now seeping through the nylon and seeping onto the seat. Arching her back, the soaked material barely touched his face, glazing it with warm and sticky juices. Stephan's tongue darted out, making contact with the fine fabric, lapping up the sweet acidic liquid as if it was life-giving. And maybe it was. The notion of her boss paying homage to her pussy, his tongue pressing the nylon into her slit, was so hot on so many levels.

"Sit down," Lauren commanded, managing to find her voice.

The senior executive pulled back, a bit surprised. He was not used to others giving him orders. Wiping a glistening chin on the sleeve of his suitcoat, the CEO was about to scold her when she planted both feet on the edge of the cushions and splayed her legs wide. With the panties still pulled aside beneath the tight hose, Lauren caressed her hairless slit over the material, gyrating her hips to the movement.

"Mmm," came the moans, mouth slightly parted.

With two fingers, she spread the thin lips, exposing the pink of a very wet butterfly.

"Goddamn," Stephan uttered, rubbing the erection that was pressing against suit pants that just seemed too small now. For a man with little eroticism in his life, seeing that pussy hiding behind dark hosiery made it even more erotic.

Slipping a hand beneath the material, the nylon snapped back to contour around Lauren's poised knuckles. As an astonished Jones watched and tightened his grip around his polyester bulge, he saw the outline of her middle finger disappear into a very bald cunt. Then in went the index.

"Will I be your next VP?" Lauren asked pointedly.

When the old man didn't answer, a foot brushed his crotch. "Take it out."

Stephan looked hesitantly at the one-way. Although he knew Jules couldn't see anything beyond his own reflection, nor would the driver disclose anything he saw, it always felt very awkward. With a pervy, self-indulged grin, he unbuckled and unzipped, then raised his stinky fat ass to drop trousers and briefs to rather formidable cankles below.

Returning his smile, Lauren caressed his erection, allowing the nylon to graze the wrinkled shaft. Jones stared at her pussy while she masturbated and plied his cock with her foot. The mesh felt like fine linen, causing the stiff dick to bounce on its own. Soon, precum began to leak.

"Am I the next VP?"

"P-P-Perhaps."

"Not good enough, Stephan."

"Then perhaps you'd care to seal the deal in a way I know you must be very good at, Mrs. Miller?"

Lauren stopped fingering herself and smirked. The next step had been inevitable. And he was right, it wouldn't be the first negotiation brokered with her mouth. With the sexiest of pouts, she slid to her knees, skirt falling back into place. Looking down at the hard but crinkled dick surrounded by a forest of unkept pubic hair and liver spots, she steeled herself, remembering the rather foul odor associated with another geriatric blowjob, that damned nosey Harvey, the concierge. Drawing her hair back, she descended on her boss's dick, first licking the dollop of clear fluid oozing from the head, then lowering her lips around it, tongue swirling against the aging skin.

The texture was that of old leather, but thankfully, unlike with Harvey, there was little odor, probably a testament to the CEO's meticulous hygiene. Up and down her boss' shaft she went, deciding it wasn't as unpleasant as anticipated. For a man in his seventies, his cock wasn't terrible; not at all like her doorman. Although now only five inches, she could tell it once had stood much longer and wider in its day. For the briefest of moments - just a tiny one, mind you - Lauren wondered what it would be like to ride the old bastard.

"That's it, Miller, suck it. Suck it hard. That's a good VP."

Alternating his gaze between the back of the woman's head and that of Jules up front driving, was the ultimate in power trips for the very powerful man. One employee driving and the other on her knees sucking him off. Life was good.

"Mmmmffff."

Hoping for a quick finish, Lauren increased the pace, bobbing with earnest and deep-throating as much as possible. His grunts increased as flabby hips began thrusting at her face and the quiet of the limo filled with voracious slurps, swallows, and heavy breathing. As with all men, Jones was lost in the skills she had perfected over the last few months. Several times, his pelvis lunged forward greedily, and the brunette readied herself, only to have him sink back into the seat, groaning in disappointment. His struggle to get off was obvious, a theme she was beginning to see for men his age. For the next several miles, mouth and cock danced, her lips building his cock to a climax time and time again, only for him to stall at the cliff. It soon became clear he, like the others, was going to need more to get him to jump.

Use your head and words, her friend Amy whispered somewhere from afar.

At a crossroads, Lauren began thinking of her next move, which on the surface, was only logical. Unfortunately, this having been a work-related day trip - with her boss no less - bringing a condom had not crossed her mind. Now what?

Pregnancy wasn't a concern, of course. Early menopause had taken care of that, and it was likely the decrepit old coot was shooting blanks anyway. Plus, given his age, any deliberating STDs would have surely killed him off by now.

Determined to put the final seal on the upcoming VP job, she slithered along the old man's withered legs and tugged her skirt up once again. Without hesitation, Lauren poked a hole in her leggings and ripped them open. Sacrificing a pair of hose was well worth the payoff. Straddling his plump waist, she moved a roll of fat out of the way and guided his saliva-coated dick passed soaked panties and into her waiting hole. A low guttural moan came from the CEO's open mouth as he looked into her eyes. Wrapping hands around his neck, she began fucking him, increasing the pace while giving him the best cowgirl he would ever experience. Burying his bald head into her chest, she pressed flush cheeks against the car window behind him, her fiery eyes watching the traffic go by while crashing her hips into his, over and over and over again. Occasionally a motorist would look over and hold her gaze as if they could see through the smoky glass and know what she was doing.

Laser-focused now, Lauren humped the mature penis with wild abandon, making sure it impaled her fully and deeply with every downstroke. One time she almost thought she had him cumming, only to be interrupted by the intercom.

"Sir, we're a couple of minutes from the office."

Huffing and puffing, sweating from mutual exertion, both junior and senior executives glanced toward the screen, cheek to cheek now.

"For God's sake, Jules, go around the block until I tell you to stop."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Lauren was relentless, slamming into the old man repeatedly. She'd pull up until the tip of his dick was barely in, then plunge again, causing Stephan to bellow. Putting her forehead against his, the two stared into their very souls.

"Do you like my pussy, Mr. Jones?"

The look told it all. It was the one most men gave her.

"Better than your wife's old dried-up cunt?"

"A...a thousand times yes!"

"Then fuck me, fuck your hot willing company whore. There's a lot more of this waiting when our offices are on the same floor, Stephan. Pussy on tap."

"Whore..." he managed to wheeze, wide-eyed.

"Yes, your own...personal...whore."

"OH, SHIT MILLER!"

The pair continued to labor together, and although Lauren did most of the work, she was impressed by how much stamina he actually had. Outside the luxury car, the bustling streets of downtown Miami were oblivious to the moaning and groaning within, as a rising corporate manager literally fucked her way to the top. Slowly, the passion grew in the CEO's expression and his mouth opened in small gasps, like a fish trying to breathe out of water.

"I'm...I'm."

"Yes, Stephan, yes! Give it to me," Lauren whispered, their skin slapping together, echoing throughout the cabin. "Fill me with what your wife no longer wants."

Eyes widening, the pot-marked face went limp, as if years of deeply repressed feelings were suddenly released.

"GRRRRRRRRRR AHHHHHH GAAHHHHHH!"

With rapid wheezing and almost dangerous hyperventilation, Stephan Jones came hard. Lauren could feel a surprising amount of hot semen pumped directly into her unprotected pussy. Like a good lover, she held him tight until her muscles milked the last drop from his. Confident he was drained, the foxy negotiator pivoted off him and back to her seat across the aisle, pulling her cotton panties into place, assuring they would soak up most of the evidence. Minutes later, torn hosiery in her purse, she was smiling, all put back together and ready to face the rest of the workday.

"Was that discrete enough?"

The question was met by a thoroughly blank look as Jules pulled up in front of Rekrap headquarters.

"Well?"

"His retirement party is next month," Jones replied, finding himself and tightening his tie. "I'll make the announcement after the dinner."

A burst of sunlight and warm air displaced the darkness and air conditioning of the backseat as the driver opened the large door curbside. Assisting Lauren in getting out with an extended hand, he asked if the trip has been fruitful.

With a wink and a nod, the beautiful minx simply smirked. "Thank you, Jules. And yes, it was most profitable indeed."

+++++

Corey turned off the vacuum and cocked his head to one side, listening. He could have sworn he'd heard his phone ringing. Having just got home from work, the evening's chores included dusting and cleaning, which he was committed to. Sunday at noon, and the open house, would be there before he knew it.

Then came the ringtone again. Following the sound to the kitchen, he snatched up the device and answered. It was Caroline.

"Hi Daddy," she said cheerfully, unaware that her fling with Zane was no longer a secret.

"Hi Cee," her father responded slowly, trying to unsee Lauren twirling his daughter's panties around a finger while questioning the biker.

"So, you ready?"

Corey's mind took him to a darker place than he would have liked. Snapping out of it, he told her he was always glad to hear from her. "As ready as ever, I guess. The realtor is coming in tomorrow to help stage a few things. But yeah."

"When are you moving the family heirlooms?"

"After the house sells. No sense in paying for storage before we have to."

"Makes sense. Well, whenever you move, me and DeAndre will fly in and help."

"DeAndre?"

"A guy I've been seeing. He's an ironworker. His company was building a new wing on the school I work at. Saw me eating a sandwich in the outside break area a few weeks ago and asked me out."

Corey searched his memory banks. "What about, eh, Bernard?"

"Nah, he's history, the jerk."

"Ah. Okay. Well, you don't have to come all the way here, you know." He purposefully didn't mention that Zane would also be helping. What an awkward situation that would be.

"Nonsense, I know you aren't as spry as you used to be, and DeAndre's a giant. Seriously, he's like a freak of nature. Popeye arms and everything."

Corey was afraid to ask what 'everything' meant. "Um..."

"Plus, he's never seen an ocean. Can you imagine that? Never seen an ocean? So, it's settled. We'll fly in, rent a car, load your U-Haul and drive down there with you. That way we can help unload and then hang out on the beach with you and Mom for a few days."

"Eh, sure, Sweetie, whatever you want. You're the boss."

Caroline had to smile at that one. Yes, Father, we all know the women in your life are the boss. During the day you're the big shot, but behind closed doors, we all know who calls the shots."

"Great! Let's hope it sells quickly. I can't wait for you to meet DeAndre."

"Me either."

As the two were wrapping up their conversation, Corey felt his phone buzzing against his cheek. It was Lauren video-calling.

"I have to go, Cee, it's Mom."

"Okay, bye Daddy!"

Selecting the Hang up and Answer option, he was met with a blurred view of a wooden roof and spinning ceiling fan. Loud Latin pop music was playing in the background. Suddenly Lauren's face came into focus, staring down into the frame.

"Hi babe!"

Corey wiggled his fingers at his phone. She sounded a little tipsy. "Hey."

The video was herky-jerky at best. One second there was a view of the setting sun from around her pool, the next a view of the tiki bar with people milling around. Now her forehead.

"You'll never believe what I just won at the residents' happy hour!"

Recalling that every Thursday, management threw the event from five to seven on the rooftop of the luxury apartment building, he shook his head. "Another coozy?"

"No silly!" Lauren rolled her eyes. "LOOK!"

A pair of what might have been sporting or concert tickets were shaking in her hand, but no way he could read the wording. "For what?"

"Winter Death! Can you believe it?"

Corey's eyes widened. WD was one of their very favorite hair metal bands from years gone past. For the most part, Lauren was a Duran Duran girl, but every chick had a hair band they loved and this was hers.

"Shut up, really? When?"

"Tomorrow night at the Palatial Palace. Sadistic Beaver is the warmup."

His face fell. He was really hoping it was after he moved next week. "Oh man, that stinks."

It was so not fair! And at such a small venue too. In their heyday, the bare-chested leather-clad group of five filled arenas with their melodic metal. But sadly, over the years, as interest in the genre declined, and new material was nonexistent, the band's relevancy was relegated to that of a supporting act on the classic rock tours. Still, Winter Death flat-out rocked. He wasn't quite sure who the opener was; probably one of those neo-metal bands that toured the country these days trying to keep the music alive.

"You should go, though," Corey urged.

"I don't know about that. There is absolutely no one here that likes that kind of music."

"C'mon, you can't pass up free tics. Besides, you look great in leather."

Lauren smiled. That she did. And she had a closet full of gear that would make any rock groupie jealous. Black leathers, that thick grommet belt, thigh-high boots. Everything to make a statement at a heavy metal show.

But exactly what would that statement be?

"You just want to see me in tight pants."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Just then a cacophony of laughter exploded in the background. One giggle sounded very familiar.

"Who's that?" Corey asked.

"Oh, just some of the neighbors. And Amy, of course, my plus one. She followed me home from work. You remember her."

The legal secretary bombshell was hard to forget. A little hottie who was not only one of his wife's coworkers but a sometimes lover as well.

"Take her."

"What? Oh, she'd never..."

"Take me where?" Amy stumbled onto the screen, her fresh, youthful mid-twenties face appearing.

"Winter Death and Sadistic Beaver."

"Hey, be nice," the blonde looked down at her crotch. "I mean, it can be a little bitchy sometimes, but cold and mean, never."

"The bands, you dork. The one I won tickets for."

"Uh-huh."

"I can't make the show," Corey piped up, "but I told Lauren she should take you."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

Amy shrugged. "Sure, why not. But you owe me."

"How?"

"Bad Bunny is coming in the fall. On your tab, Mister. All three of us."

The project manager rolled his eyes and mugged. She knew that would be asking a lot from him. He hated that genre.

"Sure, sure. Whatever. Anything you want."

"We'll see about that."

Lauren yanked the phone back and stared into it. "Guess I have a date."

Corey's crotch tingled. Typically, that terminology when used between two female friends was completely innocuous. But considering the last time he'd seen the buxom secretary, she and Lauren were sharing a fountain of Tommy's jizz, the prospect of those two going to a concert together was incredibly exciting. He would have liked to dwell on that thought but instead opted to tell her about Caroline helping them move when the time came.

"That's nice of her. I didn't know about DeAndre. Uh, you didn't happen to mention Zane, did you?"

"No. Didn't seem like the right time."

"Good. Less drama the better."

In the background, several people called for Lauren to rejoin the party.

"You better go," Corey grinned affectionately. He tried to squash the pit in his stomach that he always felt when she talked about her friends in Miami. Some, he knew, were fucking her, and those that weren't wanted to. Still, he had decided to take Zane's advice.

Embrace it. Get off on it. Own it.

"Okay, love you," she professed. The video became jerky again as she walked back to where her friends were.

"Laur?"

The cute pixie peered closely into the phone. "Yes?"

"Can you wear your anklet to the concert?"

A broad, smug look swept over Lauren's face. "You know only old fucks like you go to metal shows anymore, right?"

"Will you?"

She detected a bit of heavy breathing in his tone.

"Can I, or will I?"

Corey gulped. "Will you?"

"I'll think about it."

"And...and...and send pics?"

She nodded and winked. "We'll see, Twisty. We'll see."

++++++

=============================================
Friday, February 16th. Five days to go.
=============================================

The end of the week proved to be a busy one at Rekrap Industries. Jones and the executive committee narrowed down the purchase of a marina from the three recently visited to just the one in Sunny Isles. Needless to say, Friday afternoon was a flurry of proposal finalization which would be presented to the board on Wednesday.

That evening, in anticipation of the concert, Amy brought a change of clothes into the city and changed at Lauren's. It wasn't a show the twenty-six-year-old was particularly excited about but just being near the older woman was kicky enough. Surely another roll in the hay with her slinky coworker was in the back of her mind. After all, the pair had made love a time or two.

An hour before the show - and a couple of hefty joints later - the pair found themselves hopping in the back of a taxi on the way to the Palatial Palace.

"Tonight's the night, folks!" the dashboard radio blared, "Eighties rockers Winter Death take the stage at nine o'clock. Don't miss seeing the classics live that we play right here on The Rock. Tics still available!"

Lauren gazed out the window as downtown Miami slid by, punctuated by an annoying number of red-light stops. She smiled nostalgically at memories of her and Corey getting stoned and rushing the stage 'back in the day'. They were as vivid as yesterday, as were all those songs by the regretfully waning quintet. The great lead singer Maxi Rath, drummer L.Z., bassist Todd Bankhead, and the dual axe attack of Sansabar Graham and Razor Rodgers!

Razor Rodgers. Guitar god, millionaire, every teenage girl's wet dream. Lauren chuckled as she remembered once, while they were having sex, Corey had asked if she ever masturbated to anyone. 'A few' had been her answer, when she really meant Razor.

Pedro the Latino taxi driver laughed when they told him their destination.

"Nice. That's zee metal sound, no? Gonna do a little mother-daughter mosh pitting tonight?"

The comparison was not new to the women; they'd been mistaken as being related before. Both found it kind of kinky. Lauren was about to correct him when Amy stopped her.

"Let him think what he wants," she whispered, putting her hand on the older woman's knee. "It's...kind of hot, doncha think?"

The office manager placed her hand over the blonde's and leaned in. "Can't disagree, Babycakes." They shared a chuckle as they saw the driver eying them in the rearview.

Nestled against each other for the fifteen-minute ride, the girls made small talk, relishing their time together, as always. While consummate professionals at work, off the clock they liked to get a little...well, wild. Neither could deny it. As an executive at their firm, Lauren had been reluctant at first to fraternize with the legal secretary outside of the office. But gradually, as they became good pals, and even friends with benefits, the coworkers became BFFs. It was true they liked to have fun, and that included enjoying the company of men and infrequently, each other. The pair had also taken to hanging out at Randy Sandy's, cheering on Autumn Breeze's performances, and getting hit on by an endless stream of horny guys.

But what would tonight bring? Lauren asked herself, stealing glances at the younger woman's attire. At such a young age, Amy was undoubtedly one of the hottest women she'd ever seen. Big bright sapphire eyes, hefty breasts, and a slim hourglass body; the girl wasn't just sexy, she was erotic, much like their friend Chloe. Tonight, the girl looked especially fine with long golden hair hanging stylishly over a sparkly black backless halter top, not unlike a princess in some children's fantasy. The spaghetti straps across her tan shoulders showed plenty of skin up top, while a light blue denim skirt did the same for her legs below. More than once had those spicy eyes enticed Lauren to do things she otherwise wouldn't. Simply delicious.

Amy wasn't oblivious to the sexuality oozing from her girlfriend either. That shiny jet-black hair had been straightened to perfection and was now falling gracefully over Lauren's small breasts. Proudly wearing a black leather corset that accentuated her curves, the older woman exuded a confidence that Amy liked to think she had a hand in bolstering over the past few months. Hugging her torso snugly, the top enhanced her figure without apology and showcased her willingness to go bold. Held together by a silver zipper that ran the length of the garment, it was just begging to be tugged on. Complimenting that was a pair of tight leather pants that clung to long legs, adding a touch of rebellion to an already hot outfit. The shiny material added a sleek and polished edge to the look, as did thigh-high leather boots, black of course, adorned with a fringe running down the back, And those heels! Those damn things could do damage if they stepped on a foot. To complete Lauren's ensemble, she had selected large silver hoops that caught the light of the passing streetlights, drawing attention to her face and framing it with a touch of metallic sparkle. Amy was pleased that her friend had taken to wearing slutty makeup too, expertly learned from the blonde no less - which emphasized her features and highlighted her confident and saucy demeanor. While some crow's feet and lines around the mouth had begun to form on the maturing face, judiciously placed dark purple eyeshadow and eyeliner eliminated their prominence and gave her a sultry look. Even bolder burgundy lipstick enhanced her lips, giving a devil-may-care allure.

With a metal grommet belt wrapped tightly around her waist, Lauren definitely nailed the 80's metal chick persona.

+++++

Winter Death w/Sadistic Beaver. One Nite Only.

Amy crouched low on the sidewalk and snapped a pic of Lauren under the large theater marquee. Finding Corey's number in her contacts, she texted it to her BFF's husband. The guy was used to getting texts from her and in much more compromising places than this one.

Queuing up in line, they made their way into the vintage movie house which, according to a plaque, was built sometime in the early nineteen seventies. Converted into a concert hall years later, it still retained its colorful walls and mosaic ceilings, although the rug in the lobby was wearing a bit thin.

As expected, most patrons were a bit older than Lauren. Fans of Winter Death tended to be around Corey's age, when a few metal bands began trending toward a more melodic, progressive-rock sound. Most of the men in attendance wore fading, too-small-for-their-pot-belly concert tees and blue jeans. Hairlines were thin, if they existed at all, and gray follicles were the color de jour. One could tell many of the women were not there of their own volition, having been dragged there by husbands and boyfriends of equally poor physiques. As the girls stood in the beer line, Lauren imagined these proud fans thirty or more years ago. Most, like her and Corey, would have worn their hair long, tits high, fists raised and had a spark in every step. It was sad to behold how time had tempered their 'youth gone wild' attitude and raped them of their health. And yet, it was a testament to the longevity of this kind of music and how, for just a few hours, everyone in the house longed to be transported back to the days when they danced in the aisles, smoked like chimneys, fucked for hours, and stayed up all night.

Perhaps that's why Lauren had decided on the outfit she did. Beyond satisfying a perverted husband's kink, maybe a small part of her wanted to keep alive the sexiness of rock n roll, even if it was just for a minute. But alas, many there had forgotten, as evidenced by the number of baggie blouses and mom jeans that most of the women there wore. And some appeared to have made no attempt whatsoever at looking good for their men. That may have been the saddest thing of all. While Lauren had never been as deep into the music culture as her husband, waiting there for beer made her wonder: what happened to sex, drugs, and rock n roll? Was it all now just Viagra, 401ks, and trips to the chiropractor?

Thankfully, not all rock fans had bad memories, and at least a few appreciated women who were thoughtful enough to show up looking like time had stood still. At least three guys, maybe more (they lost count), approached the two friends and offered to buy rounds. More interested in simply quenching their thirst and getting to the stage, the girls politely declined. But that didn't stop the quick peeks and even a few stares from all corners of the lobby as they exited the concession line and made their way to the auditorium. Not all were from men, either. It seemed there were some very insecure ladies with guys that had wandering eyes.

Armed with twenty-four ounces of golden liquid refreshments in hand, Lauren and Amy finally made their way down to the pit. It wouldn't have been their first choice, of course, but free was free. After a few selfies to send Corey, they were able to set up shop on a security railing in front of the stage, just to the left of a roped-off area that housed the monitor board. Sadistic Beaver, a young non-recording group from Jacksonville, hit the stage amidst flash pots and smoke rings. The music was raw and loud, with the energy of an up-and-coming band that was vying for their first big record deal. Most of the members appeared to be in their early twenties, all with long hair and sporting the obligatory leather. Lauren paid little attention to them, but it soon became apparent that Amy fancied the lead singer, a sneering young man with yellow hair and a braided beard. Lauren saw their eyes connect several times followed by mutual smiles and shook her head.

Uh oh, here we go.

After the opening act closed with several rousing songs, Lauren made a trip to the ladies' room, leaving Amy to guard their position. No way did they want to miss Winter Death up close and personal. Grabbing a couple more beers on the way back to the auditorium, the polished brunette sashayed down the side aisle, aware of shifting eyes that clung to her gait. Most of the looks came from appreciative men - and a girl or two - as her rolling leather-clad hips bounced her ass cheeks up and down. Predictably, some were intense daggers of despise too, flung from the faces of disillusioned peroxide blondes who had stopped caring what they looked like years ago. Whatever. Lauren wasn't about to apologize for it. She worked hard to stay tight and lean. Not only for her man but for herself. And lately, others as well.

Cutting to the front of the stage like a wedge, the older woman saw Amy still by the railing, chatting excitedly with a long-haired roadie on the other side of the rope. As she approached, the blonde was absolutely beside herself. With a huge smile she held up two laminated 'All Access' passes attached to colorful lanyards.

"From Liam the singer," Amy gushed while placing one around Lauren's neck. "For after the show."

Lauren rolled her eyes, mocking her friend's excitement. "You never even heard of the band before tonight and now you want to hang out with them?"

Amy shrugged. "I've never had tofu either, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't try it."

That got the brunette giggling. She wouldn't expect anything less from the girl.

The mosh pit - did they even call it that anymore? - was filling up quickly and the girls steeled themselves against the metal barricade lest they lose a primo spot. Several guys tried to chat them up, but with dry ice beginning to float from under a large curtain that was drawn across the stage, the two weren't interested in meeting any new suitors, right then anyway. Besides, there was such a sexual undercurrent between the pair already, they knew, regardless of where the night took them, there was some type of sexual relief in their future. They just didn't know what kind, or where.

Arm in arm, the pair held each other while waiting in anticipation. While Amy had no clue as to what songs the headliner did, she was happy for Lauren who was ready to rock out to songs that had at one time been the soundtrack to her life. The chilly special effect continued to flow over the edge of the platform, thickening, triggering a predictable response from myriad braless nipples in the crowd. This natural phenomenon did not go unnoticed by several dialed-in guys whose pre-game activities apparently included elbowing each other about the few hot women that had made their way to the front.

Then, without warning, the house lights dimmed, and fountains of fire blinded the auditorium. The curtain dropped, and suddenly there they were! Winter Death in all their glory!

From the first metal chord to the last, the band had long-time fans eating out of their hands. Razor Rodgers was directly in front of the girls as the quintet led the crowd through the first three songs without interruption. Lauren snapped photo after photo, intending to send them to Corey later. Every note triggered a memory, transporting her back many years. Only when the relentless music stopped did lead singer Maxi Rath addressed the audience, thanking those who had taken the time to come out and help celebrate thirty-six years of head-banging noise.

The girls looked at each other with somber amazement. Thirty-six years! Unbelievably, that was ten years longer than Amy had been alive! It was also sobering. Not just from the irony and their disparate ages, but the fact that Lauren's finger and tongue had been inside the younger woman's cunt several times. A pussy that had not even been born when Lauren married Corey.

Christ.

Any thoughts about the blonde's anatomy quickly faded when Razor paused and wiped his face with a towel. His gaze wandered over the crowd until it landed on an exceptionally stunning woman with black hair, who exuded a style reminiscent of metal chicks from the past. This is a chick who 'gets it'. Their eyes locked, causing the world to momentarily stand still. The band, however, didn't share the same moment and playfully teased their guitarist to start the next song. Dodging a stick thrown by the drummer, Razor reluctantly tore his gaze away from the captivating woman and launched into one of the group's most beloved songs.

Lauren followed Rodgers as he prowled the stage, just as he had for decades. Though the days of prancing around shirtless were clearly behind him, she could still see that he maintained his fitness, evident from the snugness of his vibrant shirt and the way sweaty parachute pants clung to his body. His hair remained black and long but styled more fashionably. He was still as attractive as ever, and Lauren couldn't help but sigh, secretly harboring those feelings for him over the years. And now, here he was, just a few feet away! He may have aged, but like fine wine, he had only gotten better, in stark contrast to the out-of-shape fans he was mesmerizing with his guitar solos. Enchanted by his godlike presence, she focused her phone on his every move, capturing every digital moment.

With increasing frequency, Razor started stealing glances in Lauren's direction, hoping to capture her attention. During a slow and powerful ballad, the rocker took a seat on a stool, strumming an acoustic guitar, and it felt as if he was singing directly to her. As their eyes remained locked, Lauren felt young again; her hips swayed to the music, her body moving sensually, emitting an air of sexual allure. Feeling a surge of intimacy, she moved stealthily behind Amy, her arms embraced the young woman. Resting her chin on Amy's shoulder, they felt the warmth of a shared experience and a feeling of being together.

This rather intimate moment did not go unnoticed by an audacious stranger who pressed his crotch against Lauren's buttocks. She couldn't see his face, only the array of tattoos adorning his arms as he firmly grasped her hips. Initially startled, Lauren made no effort to break free, content to engage in a slow dance to the acoustic set, her eyes fixated on Razor. Unbeknownst to Amy, she heard her friend let out a moan, only to glance down and discover that she had unwittingly become part of an unexpectedly erotic encounter.

As the stranger continued to press his groin against Lauren's backside, she pushed back, encouraging his advances. Emboldened by her lack of resistance, the unidentified fan proceeded to slide one hand between her legs while the other groped her breast through the supple leather of her corset. Between the guy molesting her from behind, and the furtive glances from Razor, Lauren's heartbeat quickened, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. Her hips began to sway to the rhythm of the music, her body moving with a sensuality that exuded unspoken desire. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The music, the crowd, the passage of time--all became significant, factors in the hipness of the scene.

As the setlist became more frenzied, so did the crowd. The pit, being what it was, found the girls struggling to hold their ground against the barricade. Determined to remain up front, their tenacity came with a price. Although they stayed as coupled as possible, both endured a lot of groping as the band rocked the crowd. A shoulder caress here, a bare waist swipe there. Ass grabbing was par for the course for females alone at a show once the house lights dimmed. As it went on, the whole scene worsened. Hands lingered where they shouldn't have and tried to creep under blouses. Most other women would have packed it in and left in disgust, but not Lauren and Amy. With rock idols a mere stone's throw away, any bumping, grinding, and feels merely served to fuel an unexpected arousal in each. Rather than being outraged, the women grinned at each other, embracing the anonymous and unsolicited familiarity.

Just like the sluts they were. 

As the defilement continued, concealed by the sea of humanity in the pit, Amy felt a dainty hand move under her halter, eventually finding a braless nipple.

"Just go with it," Lauren whispered in her ear.

Together, all three began to pendulate to the hypnotic rhythm the band was laying down. Melting back into the confident fellow who'd taken a huge, calculated risk, Lauren closed her eyes and allowed him to hump her ass through the taut and shiny pants. Sans panties, there was little material to keep her from feeling the growing bulge in his jeans. With her free hand, she took a selfie of all three of them grinding into one another. It was the first time she'd seen the guy and she had to laugh. He looked very much like one of Zane's biker friends.

Unfortunately for the handsy stranger, Winter Death abruptly ended the acoustic portion of their show and began plowing through song after scorching song, giving the hardcore metal fans what they came to hear. It was hardly fodder for gentle eroticism. To his dismay, Lauren and Amy spun away from his embrace, dancing as serpents possessed, absolute sex seeping through their sweaty pores, the pheromones captivating every male in the immediate area. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that those chick's libidos were now in overdrive.

By the time the second encore had obliterated every eardrum in the hall, Lauren stood at the barricade with other fans, hopeful the concert wasn't quite over even though the house lights had come up. Tattooed-arm-guy managed to find her to ask what she was doing after the show, but any thoughts he had of a hook-up were dashed by that damn friend of hers who whisked her away to the side of the stage. A collective groan rippled through the crowd when the roadies began breaking down the equipment, and the reality set in that the show was truly over.

With a heavy heart, Lauren turned around and discovered Amy conversing with a bald man sporting a four-inch goatee and donning a Winter Death tour t-shirt. They stood just beyond the last stack of amplifiers, near a rather plump security guard who eyed them skeptically. It wasn't uncommon for scantily clad women to attempt to gain access backstage through persuasive means, and he was having none of it. After inspecting their credentials, the bald man motioned for the guard to let them through.

"Go down this ramp, past the curtain, and into the hallway," the roadie instructed the pair, his voice barely audible due to hours of sitting in front of the Marshalls. "There's a lot of equipment for load out, so try to stay out of the way, alright?"

Nodding in understanding, the girls followed his directions and found themselves in a well-lit concrete corridor. Black rolling road cases were open and ready, each bearing white stenciled letters spelling WD. Additionally, a handful of other fortunate fans loitered, conspicuously waiting for a glimpse of the band. Amy approached them and struck up a conversation, while curious Lauren leaned over and peered into one of the crates, hoping to catch sight of a guitar or something similar. The road crew scurried about in what appeared to be organized chaos. As she ran her fingers over a band logo sticker, a voice from behind startled her.

"Better be careful not to fall in there. You might wake up in Myrtle Beach tomorrow."

Spinning around, the raven-haired beauty found herself face to face with the legend himself.

Razor Rodgers. 

"Oh my god, it's... it's really you," she gushed like a teenager. The rock star was still in stage clothes, sweat dripping from every pore.

The guitarist smiled and bowed. "In the flesh. A bit of wet flesh right now, I'm afraid."

Lauren looked at the small line of fans. "I think they missed the meet-and-greet."

Razor turned and sighed. "No, they are the meet and greet."

That surprised her. "Oh, I just thought..."

"There'd be hordes of adoring fans trying to tear our clothes off?" he scoffed. "Those days are long gone, love."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Actually, I'm glad you found your way back here. You kept me going throughout the entire show. Performing can become somewhat monotonous, especially when you've been doing it as long as we have. Believe it or not, sometimes we spot someone in the crowd whom we genuinely want to meet."

Lauren blushed and looked at the ground. She didn't know what to say. This was Razor fuckin' Rodgers!

"You ever been backstage?"

A shake of the head.

"Would you like a tour?"

That got a grin. A big one. Amy saw her older friend mouth 'Oh my God' as the brunette passed by, trailing the guitarist.

"I'm warning you," Razor opined, "it's not as glamorous as it seems."

He was right. The belly of the venue was cold and sterile, comprised mostly of cement and exposed beams, pipes, and HVAC. There were no tables adorned with an abundance of food, no requests for brown-only M&M's, and no extravagant demands. And certainly, there were no crowds of glamorous models. In fact, as they strolled past another guard and entered an area labeled 'Talent Only,' the only women Lauren noticed were Maxi Rath's devoted wife, along with the girlfriends of the drummer and bassist. All three individuals were polite enough, acknowledging Lauren's presence with a fleeting curiosity. Having been good friends with Razor's wife at one time, until the divorce two years ago, they now just viewed the guitarist's nightly companions as just an endless stream of conquests. Yet they had to admit, although much older than what Rodgers usually favored, tonight's girlfriend was particularly red-hot.

Needless to say, Lauren was filled with immense excitement, resembling a giddy schoolgirl as she walked through the inner workings of the building. Here she was, being personally guided by a man who had been a rock legend for what seemed like eternity. In-person, he appeared shorter, less muscular, and the lines on his face became more apparent under the layers of makeup. Yet, his hair remained flawlessly styled, and his figure remained trim, just as it had graced the covers of rock 'n roll magazines for decades. Simply glamourous!

"I thought you guys owned your own plane?" Lauren asked as the celebrity led her outside to one of many tour buses on the back lot. "I remember seeing pictures of it with your logo on the tail."

The musician found her question amusing. "That toy disappeared along with the screaming fans waaaay back. Nowadays, we rarely even sleep in a hotel. Only if there is extended time between shows. It's just more efficient to use one of these. Plus, no bed bugs."

"Just herpes," an older man in his seventies interjected gruffly as he happened to walk by the front of the bus. "Look, we leave in an hour, Stu, so..."

"Yeah, yeah, got it."

It was almost like the two understood each other with some mysterious code. If you're gonna do something with the broad, do it quickly.

"Stu?" Lauren asked, holding the guitarist's hand while he led her up the bus's steps.

"Short for Stuart," he confessed. "What, you think my mother named me Razor?"

The Rekrap manager chastised herself for such a dumb question. Duh!

"Anyway," Razor used a sweeping motion with his hand, "this is home for the next three months. Not much but it's clean."

The tour bus was unlike anything she had ever seen before. A paneled door separated the driver's compartment from the rest of the forty-foot vehicle, which exuded an air of chrome and plush elegance. Upon entering, she discovered a spacious room that seemed to defy the limitations of its mobile structure. A cozy sofa sectional embraced one wall, strategically positioned across from a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the opposite side. Several soft velour swivel chairs encircled the viewing area, creating a comfortable space for relaxation. Beyond that, a well-equipped kitchenette awaited, complete with a refrigerator, stove, and a small dining table. Towards the rear of the bus, a neatly arranged bedroom peeked out from behind love beads that dangled across the entrance, providing a sense of privacy. Through a large picture window, the outside world came to life, with the bustling activity of equipment being loaded onto a semi-truck and jovial young people passing by, their laughter filling the air.

"Ah to be young again," Rodgers smiled.

"Sadistic Beaver?"

"Yeah, they have their own coaches over there."

"You don't hang out with them?"

"Nah, we share the bill and pass each other in the dressing rooms, that's all. They don't want anything to do with us has-beens. But goddamn, they are carrying on the tradition. Wild as fuck. I've heard some stories. Ozzy would be proud."

He grabbed a couple of beers from a mini-fridge and handed her one. "But weren't we all a little wild once?"

Sweating profusely, the guitarist apologized for the perspiration and wiped it from his brow. "Look, I need to hose off. Give me two shakes and I'll be right back, okay?"

The starstruck wife from Iowa nodded and watched him disappear through the beads and into the bedroom. Seconds later a cascade of water could be heard.

What are you doing here, Lauren? An innocent tour that wound up on a star's bus? Why? An autograph? A photo op?

A fuck?

It was obvious, wasn't it? Why else would she have left her friend and let this guy lead her to a very private setting? Knowing that a guy she'd had the hots for all these years was getting naked, just beyond the wall, was besetting. A man whose tabloid pictures she'd masturbated to time and time again. A giant in the music industry who'd rubbed elbows with all the greats. And now he was in the next room, ripe for the taking. It was all too much. Lured by a chance at bedding a legend - and feeling that perhaps she herself could do with a shower - Lauren moved cautiously passed the beads and peeked around the corner. And there...next to a small dresser was her heartthrob [sigh], Razor Rodgers, the man, the myth, the...fat bald guy? 

Her gaze fixated on a plastic stand, initially mistaking it for the musician's genuine hair, neatly arranged atop its rounded surface. Standing in front of it was the musician himself, his fingers massaging his conspicuously bald head while his other hand removed a girdle from around his midsection.

"Oh my god! Real hair and a trim figure, my ass," she muttered under her breath.

As Razor released the tight body shaper, he let out a relieved exhale, revealing a large belly that protruded several inches beyond his waist, as if the muscles in that area had simply surrendered.

Jesus Christ. Even Corey is in better shape, she thought to herself, stunned by the sight.

Downing his beer in one gulp, the guitarist unleashed a loud belch followed by a fart that would have impressed the most seasoned fraternity brother.

"Don't go anywhere, sexy. I'll be right out," Razor, or rather 'Stu,' called out, oblivious to the fact that his intended companion for the evening was standing in the doorway, horrified by the scene unfolding before her. Oblivious to her presence, he proceeded to remove an upper dental plate and placed it into a glass of fizzing cleaner.

"No need for bad breath," he chuckled to himself, until catching sight of the woman he had hoped to impress, standing there with her mouth agape, staring at the toothless wonder before her.

Razor's face flushed with embarrassment as he realized his true physique had been exposed, knowing that any chance of getting lucky that night had swiftly vanished. He quickly abandoned any attempts at nonchalance and mustered up a sheepish smile.

"Well, I guess the secret's out," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of self-deprecating humor and genuine disappointment. "Not quite the rock god image I try to portray, huh? Sorry to disappoint you, darlin'. Guess I won't be winning any beauty contests tonight."

He paused for a moment, his eyes filled with a hint of vulnerability. "But hey, sometimes the glamorous rock star facade fades away, and all that's left is a regular guy with a few extra pounds and a set of dentures. Can't blame a man for trying to hold on to his youth, right?"

Lauren's eyes widened in shock as she brought a trembling hand to cover her gaping mouth, unable to contain her astonishment. The realization of Razor's true appearance struck her with a mix of surprise and disappointment. Her mind raced as she quickly processed the unexpected sight before her.

Well, THAT was unexpected. 

Hobbling down the aisle towards the front of the bus as fast as those high heels permitted, she bounded down the steps and onto the pavement.

Must...find...Amy.

+++++

Outside, a row of buses stood lined up, engines running and ready to depart. It was evident that Winter Death's entourage was preparing for their journey to South Carolina. As Lauren trotted across the parking lot, she passed by other coaches buzzing with activity. Each time the doors swung open, loud music filled the air, while enthusiastic young people either spilled out or boarded the buses.

"Sadistic Beaver," she mumbled under her breath, comparing the lively atmosphere outside the buses to the lackluster energy of the headlining band's post-show scene. This was more in line with what Lauren had expected. Maneuvering through busy roadies and swiftly rolling equipment, she continued scanning the area, searching for her friend.

Probably still at the meet and greet, Lauren speculated, assuming Amy would be obsessed with meeting Liam the singer.

However, just as Lauren was about to head towards the mainstage entrance, a muffled sound caught her attention. Turning towards the source, she spotted a disheveled Amy peering through one of the bus's thick windows, frantically pounding on the glass. It appeared as if she was mouthing the word 'Mom.' The All-Access lanyard still swung from Amy's neck.

Lauren tugged her ear and mouthed back, "What?"

The legal secretary pointed to the front of the bus as if she wanted Lauren to go there. Nodding, the brunette moved quickly towards the coach's hinged door.

Why was Amy on the bus? And why so tousled? Was there something wrong?

Just as she got there, the heavy panel suddenly swung open, releasing three or four revelers, all laughing hysterically and dressed in Sadistic Beaver tour tees. Others in the parking lot cut in front of her and bounded up the steps. Amidst the throng, Amy emerged, clutching a tee shirt.

"You've GOT to see this thing!" the blonde blurted out, "it's off the chain."

Lauren accepted the extended hand and carefully ascended the non-slip steps, adorned with yellow caution strips. As she reached the top of the platform, a pungent scent of marijuana tickled her senses, causing her nose to scrunch up. Now that got her attention.

Amy handed her coworker a t-shirt, bearing the band's tour design. "Here, put this on," she urged.

Lauren examined the shirt under the light, observing the depiction of a menacing-looking beaver on the front, accompanied by the tour dates on the back. The dark colors and edgy graphics resonated with the band's heavy metal genre, exuding an intense energy that mirrored their music.

"Why?" Lauren questioned, a touch of defiance in her tone. She had put considerable effort into selecting her outfit hours ago and felt fine with her choice.

"They're being dorks. Anyone coming onboard has to wear their swag. I guess it's a prima donna thing."

"That sounds pretty childish."

Amy wrinkled her nose. "Well, yeah, I guess. But oh my God, Lauren, these guys are the real deal. I've never seen anything like it. Like, bite-the-head-off a bat real deal. And Liam is fucking gorgeous. Can we stay just for a while?"

Lauren couldn't help but notice the excitement in her young friend's eyes, and though she felt a touch of cynicism towards the whole rock star lifestyle at that moment, she couldn't resist the prospect of a fun hangout. Call it what it was - a sense of disillusionment or disappointment, perhaps - but she had become somewhat jaded with the whole idea of rock stars.

Glancing towards the back of the lavishly customized coach, Lauren observed a bustling scene filled with over fifteen people, mostly in their early to mid-twenties, all avid heavy metal enthusiasts donning the band's merchandise. Amidst the crowd, there was even a girl sitting on a band member's lap, topless, embodying a stark contrast to the solitary and desolate atmosphere of Rodgers' empty rolling hotel room.

With a nod, the hesitant brunette pulled the overpriced shirt over her head, smoothing out the fabric as she adjusted it. She fluffed her black hair, ensuring it looked presentable. "But no bat heads, okay?" she playfully admonished, wagging her finger, drawing a line at hurting animals.

Amy smiled with glee and took Lauren's hand, leading her down the aisle, navigating around partiers lounging on both sides drinking and smoking weed. Making their way down the aisle of the rocking tour bus, a female groupie caught their attention. Her vibrant, multi-colored hair stood out, alluding to her unique sense of style and free-spirited nature. With a disarming smile and a slightly hazy tone, she informed Lauren of the strict no-phone policy.

This made her frown. While she of all people understood the importance of discretion, her personal phone was also the one she used for work. Losing it was not an option.

"I already gave her mine," Amy offered. "It'll be here when you leave."

Unconvinced of its safety, but not wanting to spoil her friend's fun, the executive gently added the device to the others and snapped her clutch shut.

Little miss spacy gave the woman a cutesy smile, tossed the tub down on a counter, and returned to her friends.

Having made it past the stoney gatekeeper, the women navigated toward the back of the bus. Just beyond the kitchenette was an alcove of low-rise sofa beds and beanbag chairs. In one of those was Liam, Sadistic Beaver's lead singer, clutching a Heineken and very fat blunt. He was holding court with the band's drummer and bassist, along with another couple of guys and three girls who, from Lauren's perspective, looked borderline underage.

When the pair entered the area, Liam grinned enthusiastically at Amy and patted his knee.

"Kept it warm for you, babe," the rocker beamed as she sat back down in his lap.

Lauren did a double take. It was no wonder Amy wanted to stay. The singer was without a doubt the most charismatic presence on the tour bus. He exuded a raw and powerful sexuality that captivated on and off the stage. With a tall and lean frame, he conducted himself with an air of confidence and magnetism, and his latest catch was the legal secretary now balancing on his knee. Dressed now in a combination of leather and denim, the rocker's sense of fashion reflected his rock star persona, blending elements of edginess and sensuality. Form-fitting black leather pants hugged long legs, emphasizing a slim yet muscular physique. Like Lauren, a heavily studded belt wrapped around his waist, and a sleeveless denim vest exposed tattooed arms and shirtless chiseled chest. Unlike Razor, Liam's hair was undoubtedly real, a messy wild mane of blonde locks, purposely out of place. The undeniable leader of the band spoke with authority, his smoldering eyes drawing people in with their piercing gaze.

Fuck me.

"Hey everybody, this is Lauren," Amy giggled, as she introduced her coworker to those in the immediate area. "Lauren, this is Liam, Pete the bassist, and Colt the drummer."

"Wait, this is your mom?" Colt raised an eyebrow, his eyes wandering over the newcomer's body. Even with the wrinkly t-shirt, he could see she had it going on. Long black hair, small tits, thin waist. The snug leather pants perfectly showcased the older woman's svelte figure, accentuating her curves in all the right places. The fabric hugged her hips and clung to her legs, highlighting a taut, toned physique. But it was the thigh-high leather boots that truly caught the drummer's attention. Exuding a sense of power and sexiness, they reached high firm thighs, effectively elongating her legs. The supple leather material added an element of allure, and as she stood there, the boots accentuated a high butt, giving it a pleasant lift.

Simply the textbook definition of a fucking MILF.

Lauren laughed. So that's what Amy was yelling through the window.

"Hardly."

"Well, it wouldn't surprise me," Colt countered. "Fine ass begets fine ass."

The 'MILF' batted her eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Colt looked at her as if he'd never heard that worn-out cliché.

"See what happens?" Amy interrupted. "She drags me out to see the lame shit my parents call rock, and here we wind up with the real future of metal. You blew them off the stage tonight, you know."

Liam looked around at the others and shook his head. "Hold on now, have a little respect. Yeah, they haven't had any new stuff in a long time, and they're a little slow out of the gate, but guys like them? They paved the way. And influence? You have no idea how many riffs Pete over there ripped off Stu."

Pete looked away from one of the Kewpie dolls who was now sitting on his thigh and winked. "Never hold up in court, but yeah. The guy was the shit back in the day."

The enamored drummer stood up and shooed away the girl that had been hanging on him. Offering her seat to Lauren, Colt smiled in a way that caused her to pause. Seeming to exude a different kind of rock star energy, she immediately recognized a calm about him and genuine humility. He appeared to play to his strength of wit rather than his strikingly handsome features, and yet despite his boyish personality, nothing could hide the large, jiggling tube clearly visible beneath loose cotton shorts, nor the hairless chest and powerful biceps under a pale blue tank top. Up top, a long ponytail danced behind his head and back as he took a seat next to her.

"So, you're into metal, huh?" Liam asked Lauren as everyone kicked back following the introductions. It was a genuine curiosity. He wasn't gatekeeping or disrespecting her age. Hell, some Sabbath fans were in their seventies now. It was a genuine curiosity.

The foxy wife took a long drink. "Honestly, metal is more my husband's speed. But Winter has been a favorite of ours for a long time. I was glad to see them one more time."

"Cool," the singer nodded slowly, swigging the Heineken and hugging Amy.

Lauren sensed something about his mannerism that seemed to dismiss her response as trivial. That didn't sit well.

"Don't I look rock n roll enough for you?"

The singer looked away from Amy, who now had her arms around him, face buried in his neck.

"Well, you know, anyone can wear a tour shirt," the singer quipped.

Lauren's expression twisted into a mix of frustration and disdain. These self-absorbed rock stars and their egos were the very reason they were all wearing those tacky band t-shirts in the first place. As Colt attempted to cozy up to her, she abruptly stood up, ripping off the detested tee and hurling it at Liam's face. Standing tall with her hands on her hips, she tilted one knee slightly, thrusting out whatever semblance of a chest she had. The lambskin corset clung tightly to her bare shoulders, while the painted-on leggings accentuated her legs. In that moment, she exuded a seductive confidence, akin to a mature porn star in her leather-clad allure. It was a Sandy-in-Leather moment that none of them would soon forget, as if she personified every sultry vixen from those 'mature' scenes.

"Better?" Lauren asked coyly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, as she took the joint from Liam's hand and took a puff.

Amy leaned into Liam's chest, giggling and snorting, clearly feeling the effects of the high.

"Yeah," the raspy crooner murmured, his voice filled with awe. "I mean, damn, you look fuckin' amazing."

"Wow, look at you, Mom," Colt playfully teased, echoing his bandmate's surprise. "All grown up."

Finishing her Heineken and handing him the empty, Lauren joked, "What's a lady gotta do to get a drink around here?"

Her remark elicited laughter, instantly easing the tension in the back of the bus. The healthy banter resumed among those fortunate enough to be part of King Liam's inner circle. When Colt returned with another round, the older woman gracefully swung her toned legs over the drummer's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"So, when are you boys getting a recording contract, anyways?" she inquired, genuinely curious.

+++++

Corey sat in his home study, his gaze fixated on the empty cardboard toilet paper roll resting on his desk, contemplating its potential carnal uses beyond its intended purpose. As he mulled over various ideas, a notification from the messaging app on his laptop interrupted his thoughts--an incoming text from Lauren.

"Let's see, it's eleven thirty in Miami. About damn time!" he muttered, feeling a tinge of disappointment that he hadn't received any photos or videos from the Winter Death show as promised. However, he understood that the dismal cell reception in those concrete venues was shit.

The first photo he received depicted a stage engulfed in billowing smoke, bathed in blue light, but with no sign of the band.

The subsequent shots showcased the warm-up band, a group of youngsters. Particularly catching Corey's attention was the lead singer with his golden hair. Having listened to a few of their songs earlier in the day, Corey wasn't particularly impressed.

The rest of the photos focused on the headliner, with a majority featuring Rodgers, who seemed to have captured Lauren's attention throughout the show, almost as if he was posing just for her. Among the images, Corey noticed a few of Amy joyfully dancing to the music, and then...wait, who is that?

The following picture was unmistakably a selfie, with Lauren's arm extended as far as possible. Standing behind her was a burly man adorned with tattoos and an impressive mane of hair. Lauren leaned back into his chest, his hands resting on her bare hips. They both wore joyful expressions, clearly having a great time.

"Christ, she looks stunning in that strapless corset. So incredibly hot!" Corey muttered to himself, admiring his wife's beauty.

Next, a video started playing, although the quality wasn't the best. Lauren had never been adept at working them. Corey managed to make out about twenty seconds of the band before the footage abruptly shifted to a spectacular view of her feet--two pairs of feet, to be precise. One pair belonged to Lauren, adorned with thigh-high boots, and the other...those sneakers had to belong to her "friend." Their proximity was uncomfortably close, as if the guy was almost on top of her. It was almost as if...

"Wait, what's this?" Corey questioned out loud, rewinding the video a couple of times until he could pause it at the right moment. There, right before the clip ended, he spotted something--a glimmer around the ankle of Lauren's boot.

An anklet.

His anklet.

THE anklet.

+++++

Liam hurled an empty water bottle towards a hefty fellow, who was engrossed in a conversation about twenty feet away. The bottle struck the man's unkempt hair and landed at his feet. Judging from his size, he appeared to weigh at least three hundred pounds.

"Hey Stain, the lady wants to know why we don't have a label yet."

Colt noticed Lauren's perplexed expression as she silently mouthed the name "Stain."

"He earned that nickname after thoroughly kicking the ass who dared to cross him, leaving behind nothing but..."

"A stain," Colt interjected, finishing her sentence.

"That's right. He's our manager," Colt explained.

"What do you want from me, Liam? Go hire Peter Grant and write better songs," Stain retorted.

Amy gathered scattered CDs that were casually strewn across the table. Each one was professionally produced, featuring polished inserts proudly displaying the band's logo. This piqued her curiosity.

"What are these, then?"

"Those are demos. We distribute them to radio stations and music executives."

"Can I have one?" Lauren asked. "Well, actually, it's for my husband. He's a huge metal fan."

The drummer grabbed a jewel case and handed it to her, while discreetly letting his arm rest on her leg. There was no denying her allure, and oh the things he would do to her. Her age set her apart from younger girls who typically fawned over the band. Their incessant giggling could get tiresome at times. But this woman was different. Like a fine wine, she had aged gracefully, even reminding him somewhat of his mother back in Minnesota, albeit with distinct differences. This would have been disturbing if he wasn't such a degenerate.

"So, eh, where exactly is your husband and what would he say about you being here?"

With a seductive glimmer in her eyes, Lauren leaned closer to Colt, the tingling in her pussy almost distracting. "He's in Iowa, and no, I don't think he'd mind at all. We have a special relationship."

"Is that a fact?"

Colt's gaze scanned her striking outfit, drinking in every detail. His eyes were drawn to the black corset which accentuated her figure and emphasized curves that only a gym rat would have. The silver zipper running down the front of the corset seemed to beckon him, tempting exploration. Easy, he told himself. She looks like a freak but can't be sure.

As he focused lower, he appreciated how the tight black leather pants hugged Lauren's toned legs. The fabric molded to the gap, leaving little to the imagination, as they disappeared seamlessly into a pair of alluring thigh-high boots that were quite hooker-like. But none of that caught his attention as much as the gold bracelet wrapped around the ankle of one of the boots. It added a touch of elegance and there seemed to be a mystique around it. Two shiny letters, 'H' and 'W', twinkled under the light, hinting at an unstated significance. A significance anyone who watched enough porn would recognize. And if there is one thing a band member does on long road trips it's watching porn. If she truly stepped out on her husband, then it could be a most interesting night.

"Then he wouldn't mind me doing this?" Colt asked, leaning over and nibbling on an ear.

Lauren brushed her hair out of the way and welcomed his advances, offering the young drummer her neck, which he immediately began licking. "I think he'd rather like that."

Turning into him, her fingers glided along his firm chest, hand slipping beneath the tank top to dance on a tight stomach. Soon their lips met, and the kiss deepened, a wave of passion surging between them. Their jaws opened, and tongues entwined, exploring each other's mouths.

"HOL-EEEE SHIT, girl, you go!"

The outburst shattered the kiss and they looked over at the ruckus. All this time, Amy had been drunkenly stumbling up and down the coach's aisle dancing and wiggling her butt, causing the skirt she was wearing to rise higher on her thighs with each pass. Apparently, the sway of her skirt was such that everyone soon learned there were no panties beneath.

Liam seized the opportunity as the blonde walked by and grabbed a bare ass. "Jesus, Mom, did you know your little girl was such a slut?"

Lauren rolled her eyes. Why, yes, Liam, she considered replying, I do, in fact, know how much of a whore she is. Instead, she faked a shocked looked and played along. "Missy, where is your underwear? Shame on you!"

Amy stuck her tongue out.

"Whatcha gonna do, Mommy? Spank me for being such a dirty girl?"

Maybe it was the wetness growing between the office manager's legs, or the heat of the whole situation, but Lauren instinctively grabbed the younger woman's hand and dragged her across her lap. Amy's chest landed on top of Colt's knees and her bare ass was touching Lauren's belly when the first slap came.

Smack!

It was playful, no more than a tap as the hand struck the seam of the skirt.

"Lame!" Amy shouted as others on the bus began to gather around. "Is that all you got?"

Lauren lifted the denim and pushed the material up and over her ass, revealing soft, fleshy cheeks.

Smack, smack!

Amy squealed with mock pain. "Hit me, Mommy. Hurt me. I've been bad!"

Smack, smack! The whole of her bottom jiggled delightfully, a faint rosy glow beginning to show.

"Will you be a good girl now?"

The legal secretary nodded her head furiously.

"I promise!"

"That's one fine ass," Pete remarked.

"I bet momma's got a better one," Liam posited.

"Does not!" Amy protested, feigning a spoiled brat.

"Says you. I mean your mom, or whoever she is, IS rocking the shit outta those leathers. Whatta ya think, Colt?"

The drummer looked annoyed, wanting nothing more than to continue kissing Lauren, but had to admit he couldn't disagree. "My money's on Mom here."

Amy acted offended and scampered off her pal's lap, nearly falling into the bedroom. Steadying herself against the doorjamb, she playfully threw down the challenge, grinning at her buddy. "Care to wager?"

"What's the bet?" someone called out.

The three musicians looked at each other keenly, each thinking the same thing.

"Loser shows tits too," Pete stipulated.

There were approving murmurs from the onlookers that seemed to be growing, crowding around the small sitting area in the back of the bus. The regular hangers-on who traveled with the band were used to seeing naked coeds run up and down the aisles, but it wasn't every day one had the opportunity to see a MILF like this flash her tits.

Lauren felt the party and eyes closing in and leaned over to Colt.

"Not here," she hushed. It was more of a plea than a statement.

Typically, the band would scoff at that and make a girl strip right there. Why shouldn't everyone enjoy? But the drummer felt tact would likely help prolong the night and caught Liam's eye. Nodding in the direction of the bedroom just behind Amy, he grabbed Lauren's hand and pulled her through the doorway. Reading his bandmate's cue, the singer and Amy followed, joint and beer in hand. Somehow, Stain and Pete managed to sneak in just before the door closed and stood to one side, making themselves small. A collective groan of disappointment rose from the others outside as the door closed.

Alone now with the four men, Amy and Lauren glanced at each other as the guys looked on expectantly.

"Well?" Liam asked. "We can't stay in Miami forever. Bottoms up."

The girls looked around. There wasn't much room at all. The converted bedroom was nothing if not cozy. The king-size bed, positioned against one wall was in the center, adorned with plush pillows and soft, inviting sheets. Above the bed, a small window with the orange sodium vapor light of the parking lot streaming in provided the only light. Along the sides there was some shelving for shoes and clothing, but not much else. Except for a ceramic bowl full of condoms.

Almost as if they each decided at the same time, the girls held each other's arms, the other extended for equilibrium, and stepped up onto the low-rising mattress. Hands against the faux ceiling, they turned away from the men and steadied themselves until finding their balance. Wiggling her butt a bit, Amy went first by gripping the hem of her denim skirt and tugged it upward. Slowly the edge of the material crept up until the bottom of both cheeks became visible. Smiling over her shoulder, she continued until it cleared her bubble butt and rested on top of the fleshy bottom. Just a tuft of whitish fuzz could be seen through the gap in her legs.

"Ni-sissssssss," Liam hissed his approval.

Pete took a hit off the joint and passed it to Colt. "Let's see it, Mom," he called out, snickering.

Amy shifting on the bed caused Lauren to falter a bit, but after regaining confidence in her balance she unbuckled the heavy metal grommet belt and handed it to the drummer. Pushing her bottom out in dramatic fashion, she used both hands to inch the tight leather pants down over her hips until the crack of her ass showed. In the dim light, the black lettering of her tattoo was barely visible, but it was there.

~~ E Z ~~ 

"Oh wow, just fuckin' wow," Liam pogoed around, laughing, "You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

Amy looked just as surprised. "When did you get that?" she whispered.

Lauren said nothing and continued to pull the leathers down. Colt was stroking his face which held a huge grin. The naughtiness of this woman was way beyond his expectations.

Another few inches and the pants had cleared her cheeks, providing evidence that she too was commando. Expressionless, the office manager held onto Amy as she pulled one boot off, then the other. Soon the leathers were on the floor. Both girls bottomless now, they bent over slightly to give the rockers a better look.

"Spectacular," Pete stated with the authority of an Olympic judge. He stepped forward and gave one of Amy's cheeks a tweak. "Liam?"

Liam frowned and disagreed facetiously. "Inconclusive. Let's have a spin."

Lauren and Amy obeyed and used the ceiling to do a slow three-sixty. The guys whistled as the young woman's pussies came into sight, each one with its unique characteristics. One with a tidy blonde bush, the other smooth as a buttered clam with more ink, this time a fox with its tail curled around it. Both had small amounts of clear liquid beginning to run down their legs.

Pete chortled. "I gotta meet your artist."

"I think they're both winners, eh boys?" Colt gave a brief golf clap. "Stain?"

Until then, the band's manager had been leaning up against the doorjamb, arms folded, content to let the musicians have their fun. Pushing off the flimsy wall, he moved his large frame closer to the bed.

"I think," he grinned with a twinkle in his eye, "that we need to see some tits."

+++++

As the clock struck midnight, Corey held the toilet paper tube in one hand and pulled through one of Lauren's old hose found while rummaging through a bottom dresser drawer. Fluffing it so it billowed at one end, he found himself growing restless now. After trying to stay up after a long day to hear from Lauren and how her evening had gone, it was time to go to bed. His mind was, as always, filled with questions, wondering if she had enjoyed the music, met new people, or perhaps even flirted with someone.

However, as the minutes ticked by without any message from Lauren, Corey's anticipation turned into a mixture of concern and mild frustration. He had hoped for something. More pics, a video, and any glimpse into her evening. Yet, in the silence that seemed to close in on him, Corey's hopes were fading.

Realizing that it was getting late, with a big day tomorrow, he acknowledged not being able to wait up indefinitely, pining for a message that might not come. With a sigh, he climbed into bed, setting his new contraption on the nightstand, thoughts of his wife still lingering. He wondered who the guy was in the photo taken during the show. Was it someone she knew or a stranger? Had he noticed the anklet? Had they hooked up after the concert? In the back of his mind, a mix of emotions swirled - curiosity, envy, jealousy, and a tinge of arousal.

Settling under the covers, the lonesome Iowan husband closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would take him quickly, anticipating when he would again hear Lauren's voice, hopefully with an interesting tale to tell.

+++++

With a sultry sway, Amy led the way again, slowly raising her arms, teasingly gripping the edges of her t-shirt. The fabric clung to her curves, hinting at the bounty beneath. With a quick tug, she pulled the shirt over her head, only to reveal the shiny black halter she had worn to the show. Losing her balance, the blonde stumbled into Lauren, giggling. Fortunately, the brunette had the wherewithal to stop her from tumbling off the bed and gathered the inebriated young girl into her arms. Chest to chest now, Amy smiled coyly and showed her appreciation by kissing her friend on the mouth.

As the pair embraced, the connection became palpable, and their affection for each other became clear to the band. This was not the women's first kiss. Slow at first, moist lips came together delicately, initially hesitant but quickly escalating into a fervent exchange. Tenderly cradling Lauren's face, Amy let her fingertips lightly graze the elder's cheeks as they pressed their bodies closer together while trying to retain their balance. Lauren's heart pounded in her chest as she surrendered to the intensity of the moment, her breath growing shallow with each passing second.

Reciprocating, she encircled Amy's waist, drawing her in closer still. Their bodies melded together, embracing the heat that emanated between them. A soft sigh escaped their lips, a testament to the escalating passion surging within them. With tongues entwined in an elegant dance, they explored their bodies. Low and long breathing grew louder and briefer, heavy with pleasure. Standing beside the bed, all four men stood spellbound, incredulous at their good fortune. Who would have thought this?

As Amy's lips continued to ply Lauren's, her hands instinctively found their way to the zipper at the top of Lauren's corset. With a delicate, tender touch, she began to tug at it, feeling the tension ease as she began to lower it. Lauren's breath hitched at the sudden release, her body responding to the anticipation. The soft fabric of the material strained against her curves as the zipper gradually slid down, exposing more of her bare skin to the warmth of the room. And it was very, very warm.

Following the zipper, Amy let her fingers trail along the newly revealed skin, sending shivers of pleasure through Lauren's body. Their lips parted momentarily, breathless gasps escaping as they exchanged a knowing glance, faces filling with desire and longing. Forehead to forehead, Amy's eyes begged for permission to which Lauren nodded enthusiastically. As the zipper reached the bottom of the corset, the younger woman stopped, each breathing deeply. Then, with a gentle tug, the corset loosened its grip, the two sides parting, freeing Lauren's breasts. Amy's hands gently explored the exposed flesh, igniting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

At this point, Liam, Colt, Pete, and Stain had long forgotten about the joint in the ashtray and their warming beers. Nothing mattered but the two girls making out on the bed and their growing erections.

Fuck me, one of them let slip.

Amy playfully licked Lauren's nose before pressing her cheek against her friend's, and together they gazed at the men, smiling.

Stain gulped. "Hell yeah."

They watched as the younger woman lay the older down on the mattress, placing featherlight kisses on her forehead. After doting there, Amy moved down, her lips grazing Lauren's eyelids, leaving outlines of lipstick. The secretary continued her descent, tracing the contours of Lauren's neck with her mouth, leaving a trail of lingering kisses. Everything about her coworker was desirable; her perfume, her scent. Finding the hollow of Lauren's collarbone, Amy planted a kiss, sucking the tan skin and nibbling, a mark that would surely leave a gentle flush. The older woman audibly moaned at the peck.

With deliberate slowness, Amy's tongue skipped across Lauren's chest, paying close attention to every curve and dip of her body. She lingered at each breast, sucking, licking, teasing, her tongue occasionally flicking against Lauren's nipples, igniting sparks of pleasure. Strands of Amy's hair mixed with her fingertips, creating a tantalizing sensation as she cupped and fondled each breast, guiding them with a loving touch. Lavishing acute awareness on each tit, long blonde curls flowed freely, occasionally trailing behind her movements, brushing against Lauren's sensitive skin, offering a gentle caress as the girl teased and pleased, each stroke of her tongue and every flick of her lips eliciting gasps of delight.

The eroticism of it all caused the bassist to take a step forward to join in, only to be met by Colt's arm.

"Easy. Let them go."

Amy' barely heard him as lips continue their exploration, trailing along Lauren's stomach, leaving a trail of sensation in their wake. Every touch was electric, every kiss a foreshadowing. As the blonde went lower still, grazing her girlfriend's thighs with soft brushes of her lips, Lauren shivered with anticipation. Now between the brunette's legs, Amy savored the smell of her sex before planting soft kisses along the inner thighs, teasingly working her way closer to the center of the woman's pussy. Reaching the outer edges of its labia, she spread them gently, revealing the delicate folds beneath. With a slow and deliberate motion, Amy extended her tongue, tracing a path along the outer edges, gently exploring and savoring the intimate contours. Moving with purpose and alternating between long, sweeping strokes and more focused, circular motions, the youngster employed those techniques that she herself enjoyed. Applying gentle suction, Amy enveloped Lauren's clitoris with her warm mouth, lavishing it with delicate flicks and tenderly sucking. Listening for subtle cues in Lauren's response, she adjusted until it was clear her mature friend was going to cum.

"FUCK!"

Lauren could feel her orgasm building, made that much stronger by the men watching from the side of the bed. Slowly, the intensity built, pleasure surging through her body like high voltage, senses heightened riding a powerful wave, building and cresting. In one breathless moment, her body erupted with an overwhelming climax. Back arched and muscles tensed, release washed over her causing her to shake and quiver uncontrollably. She grasped Amy's hair, holding her face in place as her pussy pumped a steady flood of juices onto the younger woman's face.

"Amy, oh Amy, that was so good."

The two girls began giggling, at which time Liam edged to the bed, shedding his denim vest and leather pants.

"Forget this," he shouted, "let's fuck these bitches!"

With unbridled glee, the singer grabbed a condom packet, tore it open, and clambered up on the mattress. Adjusting to its softness, he slid the rubber over his already rock-hard dick and knee-walked behind Amy, whose face was still buried between Lauren's glistening thighs. Using one hand to steady himself on her hip, he began probing the blonde's fuzzy slit, coating the latex with her wetness. Looking down over the girl's bare back, he traced the elegant curvature of her spine to sloping shoulders and neck to find the older woman staring back at him. Eyes taking in her mature, toned body and perfect baseball-sized tits was certainly a bonus. When their gaze connected, it was all he could do to keep from cumming right then.

"That's right, fuck her," Lauren goaded the rocker, "fuck the whore."

Liam needed no more encouragement. With one smooth poke, he pushed his cock passed Amy's peach fuzz. Her wetness allowed easy access, allowing it to penetrate with ease. As their bodies began to move in perfect harmony, Liam, leaned over his groupie-for-the-night to achieve a better angle of attack. Supporting most of his weight on hands and forearms, the young man gently lowered himself closer to her body, chest over her back. Skin against skin, their breaths were allowed to mingle now, enhancing the intimacy of their coupling.

"Yes!" Amy cried out while being fucked, "Do me, treat me like one of your road sluts! OH, GOD!"

Watching the scene unfold in front of them, Pete and Colt could no longer contain their growing arousal. The intensity swept over them as the big-titted blonde moaned while continuing to lap at her friend's seeping juices. After exchanging glances, their gaze fell upon the only open hole there was. Pete was the first one to give in to his lust. Driven by the erection in his shorts, he too dipped into the bowl and opened a condom, then moved towards the bed decisively, removing his clothes. Positioning himself above Lauren's face, he at first struggled to adjust to the sinking mattress, but eventually found his balance. Instinctively, she grasped his hefty member as it bobbed above her forehead and began stroking. Before he could unravel the rubber, a small dollop of precum squeezed out which she dutifully swept away with the tip of her tongue. Overwhelmed by her touch, Pete's eyes closed, and his head tilted backward. With a contented smile, he channeled the sensations back to his now steel cock.

The drummer was not far behind his bassist. Clothes shed, the muscular musician climbed onto the other side of the mattress and shimmied on his knees until his polyisoprene erection too bounced like a diving board above, reservoir waving like a clown's long animal balloon. Lauren's eyes became even brighter at the prospect of jacking off two magnificent dicks. Using one hand on each of their bare bottoms, she urged them closer to her shoulders, that pink tongue flicking out rapidly like a snake's. Leaning one arm against the flimsy headboard, the young men scootched in and bounced the heads of their penises on the older woman's cheeks, each leaving abrasive red marks from the latex.

"Fuck yeah, suck it. Suck my cock."

With Liam still in her and pumping away, Amy opened her eyes and looked above Lauren's bald slit. She moaned heavily, pleased to see the other rockers kneeling above her pal and taking turns stabbing their rods down her throat.

"My, my, my, now who's being naughty, Mommy?"

Considering one of her own daughters was about the same age as the blonde between her thighs, the implication was so nasty, so dark, it was taboo. And yet, it sent a single shock wave through Lauren's body, causing it to arch, a small orgasm shaking her hips. Amy giggled at the small squirt of liquid that jetted from the hairless pussy in front of her nose.

Lap, lap, lap.

"Yeah, Mom, suck my dick," Pete laughed as his glans found the brunette's willing mouth.

And she did. For the next ten minutes, the four naked souls on the bed enjoyed themselves. Words were few, the only real sounds were skin on skin as Amy continued to submit to Liam on all fours as Lauren allowed the other men to use her mouth for self-pleasure. Across the room, the band's manager settled on a stool in the corner, his XXX-L shorts around his ankles, and watched. Being obesely overweight, the girls the guys met on tour rarely allowed him to join in, so he'd learned to be content with pure visuals.

Fap, fap, fap.

The moans and heavy breathing of passion were beginning to rise, climaxes building. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, Lauren felt a hand grab a fistful of hair and pain shot through her scalp as she was jerked into a sitting position.

"Ow, what the fu..."

Through the sting and the fog it created, she first saw Liam reach over to a cubby next to the bed, his dick still buried in Amy. He was retrieving something. She turned to Pete, thinking he was the one who had hold of her, but saw both his hands. Without warning, there was another jerk on her hair, sending more pain through her head. Colt was peering down at her with a smirk. A look of concern cut through the mist as she realized the demeanor of all three musicians had changed.

"On your knees, bitch," the drummer demanded.

"Wha..."

"Shut the fuck up," Pete screamed at her. "Just do it!"

Colt flung her body forward, forcing her to land in front of Amy on her hands, weak knees wobbling as she stared her friend in the face. Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw Liam hand Colt something and...

Click, click.

Sudden, unexpected pressure around Lauren's neck sent a surge of shock and disbelief through her body. A gasp escaped her lips as her hands instinctively reached up to touch the unexpected object that was now around her neck. Confusion and a mix of emotions overwhelmed her as reality sank in.

A dog collar. A fucking dog collar!

As her vision cleared, she saw Amy was now also wearing one. Both were speechless at the sudden development. The younger woman had pure astonishment on her face, but before she could react, Liam seized the attached leash and forcefully pulled her up to her knees, her naked back against his hairy chest. A startled yelp escaped Amy's lips, the sudden movement and pressure causing her eyes to bulge slightly. Liam's eyes were on fire as he held the secretary's head in place by the collar, looking over her shoulder. Her chest was heaving with a shallow, almost frightened, hyperventilation.

"Colt?" Lauren looked inquisitively into his eyes, eyes which echoed the same unrestrained lust that his singer had.

The drummer leaned down and licked her ear. "You can leave anytime you want to. Do you understand?" He tightened his grip on the MILF's hair, pleased that her startled and suspicious expression softened into one of acceptance and submission.

Lauren nodded her head, breathing increasing as Liam kissed Amy's neck. With one hand holding the collar tightly, the other traced the contours of the busy blonde's upper body, stopping to cup her meaty breasts. Her eyes shut tight as he brushed her blonde curls away so a thumb could pass over each nipple, causing a moan to escape her lips. Continuing their journey, his fingers danced on her stomach, past her navel, until landing on the mound of whitish pubic hair. A trail of clear secretion ran down the inside of both thighs. Deeper groans came from low in her throat as one of the singer's fingers found her engorged labia.

Her friend's rising passion caused Lauren to relax a little. It was clear neither of them were in danger. Quite the opposite.

Colt shuffled his knees and moved behind the older woman while they all watched the younger one get fingered. "Do you want to leave?"

At first, all Lauren could manage was a weak twitch, but soon found her voice.

"No."

The musician wrapped the leash around his massive hand, shortening its length. This snapped the junior executive's head back.

"No...WHAT?"

"N-n-no, I don't want to go."

"What about your...daughter?" Colt laughed, causing the other men to titter and look in the blonde's direction.

Amy was still being held tightly against Liam's chest, his cock grazing her bare ass, his free hand's middle finger finding her sopping hole. The way she spread her legs to allow access provided her unspoken consent.

"Why?" Lauren asked breathlessly about the restraints.

"Why?" Liam grinned lasciviously. "Why do you think we call ourselves Sadistic Beaver?"

"Are you serious?"

That seemed to irritate the band's leader. A lot.

"Show the bitch," he growled at Pete.

As Colt prepared to doggy mount the MILF who had found her way to their merry bus, the bassist grabbed Lauren by the neck and twisted her face to his. "Say watermelon and this stops immediately, okay?"

Taking her feeble nod as understanding, Pete immediately smacked her ass.

"Ow!"

Taking her jaw in his hand, the rocker forced her gaze toward her pal. Amy, still held captive on her knees, was now writhing as Liam dug more fingers into her glistening gash. Eyes still bulging, her moans made it obvious he'd found her swollen clit.

"Do you like seeing your little girl finger fucked?"

"She's not..."

A yank of the leash stopped her.

"DO YOU LIKE SEEING YOUR DAUGHTER GETTING FINGERED?"

The amount of pussy juice that suddenly flowed between Lauren's legs provided the answer. It was an answer that shocked her, one of guilt and shame, but also one of profound arousal and wickedness.

"Y-y-yes."

"WHAT?"

"YES! Yes, I like seeing my daughter fucked."

It was then that Colt drew his sword and buried it deep in her cunt. Those still partying elsewhere on the bus heard a high pitch squeal that made them pause.

"Oh yeah," the drummer gasped.

The sight of him burying his cock in her buddy caused Amy to cum.

"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, oh, oh, YES, YES, YES!"

Liam held her fast as her body twisted and contorted under his restraint. The blonde hoped for respite now, but that was not to be. Immediately, the singer pushed her away from his chest and back on all fours. She bounced on the mattress before she came cheek to cheek with Lauren. The passion they saw in each other's eyes was clear.

"Kiss her, Goddamnit!" Liam barked. "Kiss your daughter!"

YANK! TUG! YANK!

"Kiss her!" Colt yelled.

Lauren's body reacted instinctively to the pressure of the collar closing around her neck. A shudder ran through her, senses immediately heightened. It was a mix of lust and fear, a potent cocktail that coursed through her veins as the meaning of the singer's words sunk in. The line between pleasure and pain was blurred. She couldn't believe how the musicians' attitudes had changed. Nose to nose with Amy, the girls' eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew the precarious situation they were in. While neither wanted to bail on the moment, it had the potential to go south at any time. Still, they were feeding off of each other's heat. Slowly, tantalizing smiles bent the corner of their mouths, mirroring the electricity that was arcing between them.

While it was difficult on all fours, Lauren extended one hand from the mattress, the other supporting her weight. With the free hand, she caressed Amy's cheek, then grabbed the back of her head, pulling it to her. When their lips met with an insatiable hunger, they both moaned, allowing their mouths to yield to a fervent exploration as their tongues swirled, almost as if choreographed.

"Goddamn, that never stops being hot," Stain commented from his corner, stroking his stubby dick.

"Fuck me," Amy called over her shoulder at Liam. "Fuck me, you bastard."

Liam obliged by burying his cock until his balls slapped her taint, causing the secretary to cry out.

"That's it, fuck my baby," Lauren chimed in. "Fuck her good."

Amy's breathing picked up again as she gasped and squealed, her hips bracing against each powerful thrust as wet, rhythmic slapping sounds filled the bedroom. Seconds later, the youngster opened her eyes to see Colt and Lauren going at it again. Her friend was struggling to keep her balance as the drummer pummeled her from behind.

"Give it to her, destroy her pussy," the blonde coerced him. "You do like Mommy's pussy, don't you?"

The musician howled.

"OH FUCK!"

An unsettling wave of arousal surged through him, and he increased the pace.

"Fuck me, baby," Lauren begged. "Coat Mommy's nasty womb, the one that bore you."

Everyone in the room groaned, causing Colt to bear down on Lauren's sweet pussy. Hands gripping her hips, he repeatedly went deep, until the entirety of his length hit bottom each time.

"Gaaawwwwdddddddd, don't stop, faster, faster!"

"Look at that horny cunt, taking your cock like a dog!" Amy screamed.

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! Ohhhhh NO NO NO NO, I'm gonna cum!"

"DO IT! CUM IN MY FILTHY HOLE!"

"OH, GOD!"

"Just like Daddy did years ago."

No, she didn't just go there, Colt's mouth dropped, semen rushing unrestrained from his balls, out his glans and into the reservoir that ballooned with a couple of tablespoons of rock star jizz. He would have liked to stay there savoring the feeling, but the moment was short-lived.

"My turn," Pete said, clasping a hand on his drummer's shoulder.

As Colt fell back against the headboard, the bassist took over control of the leash, grabbed Lauren's hair and pulled both so it snapped her head way back.

Smack! Smack!

The blows across her face stung, eliciting a high-pitched shriek that everyone on the bus must have heard.

Smack! Smack!

"What do you want, slut?" Pete hissed.

"Fuck me...I want you to fuck me."

"Fuck you WHAT?"

"Hard...fuck me HARD!"

Inches from her friend, Lauren saw Liam's pummeling was paying off. Amy's back arched as she took the singer's dick deep, breathing and moaning almost in a catatonic state. The deeper he plunged, the louder she got.

"OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GAAAAWWWWD!" the younger woman screamed, eyes rolling back in her head. "I'm gonna cum!"

The grunting from behind her foretold of the musician's impending climax as well.

Chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, her eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure washing over her. Indiscernible guttural sounds escaped her lips, giving an alien feel to the profound sensations that were ripping through her body until she found her primal voice.

"AAAAAAAAAAA EEEEEEEEE OOOOOOOOO Cummmmmmming!

The announcement reverberated off the tiny room's walls as weeks' worth of pent-up tension escaped, her hands and knees quivering, teetering on collapse. With one final gasp, her body surrendered, giving out, plummeting her chest to the mattress, but not before Liam got one more push, sending him too over the edge. As Amy's ass fell away from his large cock, Lauren could see the skin ripple beneath the latex and his milky white semen flood the tip. This sight started the roller coaster to her own orgasm.

Click, click, clackety, click. The coaster operator lowered the lever, allowing the cars to begin climbing the track to the big drop.

Smack! Smack!

Pete struck the older woman's ass hard as he drove into her dripping cunt, causing her to cry out.

"You like that, whore?"

"OHHHHHH!"

The bassist drilled Lauren unmercifully. The sound of their skin smacking and bed creaking in unison was indescribable. The once demure Iowan wife moaned loudly at each powerful thrust, her back arching and hair bouncing wildly. The pair squeaked, grunted, and squealed, bringing not only themselves closer to release, but also the fat road manager in the corner that was hammering his little dick.

Pulling the leash snapped the brunette's hair back, forcing her to stare at the ceiling. That's when Liam pushed Amy out of the way and grabbed Lauren's hair, smacking her in the face.

"Stupid whore! What did you expect by getting on the bus? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes."

"OOOOOOOHH, GOD! OOOOOOOOH MY GOD!"

Framing her face in his hand the singer peered menacingly at the junior executive, just inches from her nose. Behind her, his bandmate kept up his assault on her pussy.

"Fuck her, Pete. Fuck this worthless slut."

The slaps were coming more frequent now on both her ass and cheeks while the relentless pounding from the bassist's cock seemed to be reaching up through her belly and into her throat now. Lauren's entire body was sweaty, her back glistening, beads of sweat forming on her spine. Tears began to stream down the carefully made-up face, mascara and eyeliner running, creating delicate trails, eventually joining to streak her neck.

"Harder..." she managed to wheeze, soft at first, then louder. "HARDER GODDAMNIT!"

"FUCK ME! FUCK ME PLEASE FUCK ME!"

Pete growled again, his head pitched back, gripping the leash. "SLUT! WHORE!"

"YES, YES, YES...I'm your dirty slut. Your dirty whore!"

Bodies drenched in a sheen of perspiration, their carnal lust grew with each rhythmic thrust, propelling them into a frenzy of pleasure. With a tight grip on Lauren's hips, he dug deep, every inch of his manhood driving her crazy. The whole bus seemed to rock now as the bed frame was being tested. His head tilted back, howling. Her face contorted in a wild, otherworldly grimace, anticipating their climaxes.

"FUCK ME, PETE, FUCK MY HOLE! MAKE ME CUM..."

Breathing ragged, the musician kept pummeling hard, wanting nothing now but to pleasure her and himself.

Click, click, clackety, click. The coaster was almost to the first drop, ready to blow her hair back. To everyone's surprise, the older woman unleashed a demonic, maniacal laugh like none of them had heard before.

"DO ME, YOU SONOFABITCH! OWN ME! USE ME! FUCK MY SADISTIC BEAVER!"

"OH, YOU...YOU FUCKING WHORE!"

Clickaty, clack. Aaannnnd over.

Like Liam and Amy before them, the lovers came together, wave after wave of sensations, bodily fluids, and emotions being released like the energy from a single atom. Sharing a moment of sheer bliss, their bodies rippled as one large violent tremor. As vocal as they'd been, neither could now find a voice, their breath taken away from the extreme euphoria coursing through their veins like an injected drug.

And then, it was over.

Both crashed to the mattress, facing forward, Lauren landing next to Liam and Pete by Amy. All four began to giggle, recovering from the intense round of fucking. As they lay in a tangled mess of sheets and limbs, the strong smell of sex stinging their nostrils, their energy gradually returned, prompting more sporadic touching and kissing. Thirsty, they were grateful when a bottomless Stain wobbled over and handed them each a water bottle. He watched as they drank, staring at their sweaty, naked bodies while his short and plump dick stood at attention. Noticing the sadness on his face, Lauren scooted over to the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle to the floor, the leash cold and flowing down her back. Without a word, she bent over slightly to get under his rolls of fat and took the band manager into her hands.

"Yeah, Stain, get it, big dog," Liam chuckled, propping himself up on one arm next to Amy. "Jack him off, slut."

As the MILF pleasured Stain with a slow and sensuous handjob, his appreciative fingers gently entwined in her hair, slowly encouraging her to pick up the pace.

"You like?"

Stain glanced between each musician and smiled while they watched him fuck her hand. He was a big pig, but still one of them, and they liked seeing one of their own being cared for.

"Wanna cum, baby?" Lauren asked, looking up at him with smudged makeup and puppy dog eyes.

The fat man could only nod, gripping her head.

Fingers tightening now, the strokes became longer, the four inches he did have spearing her curled hand. Only the head was visible on the downstroke. Soon, sweat beads formed on his forehead as she worked him into a twitching, gasping bowl of jelly. Snickering, Amy slid off the mattress and stood behind the big man, her leash also hanging from her collar down to her hips. Wiggling her hands under his armpits, she found his nipples and began to ply them beneath his tee. Lauren heard him moan and felt a shudder.

"Do it, Sweetie, paint my face," she cooed softly, staring him in the eyes.

"Nnnnngggggg."

The pulsing chipolata surged in Lauren's hand while Amy worked his teats.

"Fucking slut, I'm gonna cum."

"Ooooh, I want it. Give...it...to...me."

Lauren's hand was a blur now, pumping fast, occasionally spitting in her palm for lube.

"Sweet Jesus," one of the other guys whistled.

"Here it comes!" Stain wheezed. "Oh, God."

He was taking short breaths now, feeling the tightening in his balls. Within seconds a hot stream of jizz would be jetting out of his cock.

"I want it. I want it soooo bad. Cum for me, cum for your whore!"

Every ounce of his blubber began shaking. Knowing that his release was imminent, Amy joined her friend, kneeling on the floor. The first wave came, spraying gobs of steaming semen spurting uncontrollably from his glans. It landed on the bedframe, a pillow, and even Pete's foot, a casualty of being too close. The next surge was stronger, sending thick streams of milky white goo onto the girl's faces as they braced. Some of it stuck to their hair and eyelids, while the rest dripped off their cheeks and lips, mixing with the already flowing mascara.

As the women continued to cackle, wiping the cum from each other's faces onto the sheets behind them, the band members sat dumbfounded. They'd experienced a lot of kinky shit, but seeing a chick their mother's age act with such willful and eager debauchery was on a whole other level. It wasn't until there was a knock did Liam pry his eyes away.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?" he called out.

The voice on the other side of the bedroom door was muffled and indistinguishable, requiring the singer to stumble over and crack it. It was the bus driver.

"WHAT!"

"Sorry to disturb you, but we leave in twenty minutes."

Liam frowned and peered over his shoulder to find Lauren and Amy now sitting on the bed, makeup a complete mess, legs curled beneath them. They were both smiling, collars around their necks, lovingly looking up at Colt who towered above them on the mattress, holding their leashes tight. His cock was bouncing back to life between their heads.

Turning back to the driver, Liam nodded.

"Make it thirty."

+++++

[hongtea]

Simple and Lauren, you've managed to outdo yourselves yet again with the latest chapter, and I hope that there are more scenes to come as intense as the second half.

[Johng1953]

Great update though I can see Miami being a trial for Corey! If he has reservations now...
And Chloe and Charlie are obviously made for each other. I hope that pans out.

[mundyman]

So your wife is a groupie who dresses the part and fucks the band and their touring party with her hot stripper friends??
Amazing!!
This story is one of my all-time favorites.
Thank you both for taking the time to remember and write this story.
I can’t wait for the next installment.

[SimpleEnigma]

@mundyman, glad you are enjoying the journey.

Well, LOL, to my knowledge this only happened at ONE concert one time when I was out of town, but back in the day, yeah, she did dress the part cuz she had the body to pull it off (still does, although in her sixties now, things are a little softer). Even when we went out together she dressed like a slut because, well…

BTW, this wasn’t with the stripper friend, just a friend and coworker. But close enough!

Thanks for reading.

[mundyman]

@mundyman, glad you are enjoying the journey.

Well, LOL, to my knowledge this only happened at ONE concert one time when I was out of town, but back in the day, yeah, she did dress the part cuz she had the body to pull it off (still does, although in her sixties now, things are a little softer). Even when we went out together she dressed like a slut because, well…

BTW, this wasn’t with the stripper friend, just a friend and coworker. But close enough!

Thanks for reading.

I’m sure your beautiful wife is still as sexy, and slutty, as ever.
Softer?
You mean better.
Doesn’t fruit get sweeter, and juicier, and tastier as it ages and ripens?
Isn’t a well aged steak more delicious on the palate than one just cut?
And isn’t a woman more sensual, sexual, confident, knowledgeable, and sexy, with new curves and softness as she ages?
You are a lucky man!
Thanks again for sharing.

[SimpleEnigma]

Thanks for setting me straight, my friend. Your much better analogies saved my bacon. I got some razzing from her over the word ‘soft’. ‘Who you calling soft?’ Anyway, you saved the day.

[venus-can99]

Another great chapter since it evoked a multitude of emotions as I read it ( I read it at the Lit). Now that I found out that Lauren penned this chapter it makes sense that it reads all the more realistic.

Cant wait for more updates....