Fluffer's Reward Pt. 01

Disclaimer: No minors are depicted in the following. All just good clean fun among consenting adults. Copyright belongs to the author.

When the check arrived, CarolAnn pulled the little vinyl folder toward her and opened it. It took a great effort on her part not to gasp out loud.

She had known the total might be high. She and DeeDee, her friend from the bank, had ordered margaritas, and then two more when those margaritas had appeared on the table. Four then, she tried to think, then definitely two more. Okay, maybe two more beyond that. And then these two sitting on the hightop table between them, would make, she did some befuddled math. Oh holy shit, ten.

And the food, too. Potato skins, chicken fingers, chimichangas, nachos. Garbage food. All that crap rolled greasily on her stomach.

She was looking at the check in disbelief. Two hundred and eighty-seven dollars.

"Hey, honey," DeeDee said, "you okay?"

CarolAnn realized that her eyes were probably wide open and staring. She laughed a fake laugh and leaned back into her uncomfortable chair. "Oh, yep," she said. "Sure."

"Fuck," DeeDee said, "I am fucking hammered." She lifted her margarita in a toast to CarolAnn and took a sip from it. "Any swinging dick comes over here, I am," she paused for emphasis, "ALL HIS."

But of course, no swinging dicks were coming over here. They were at a corner table in this bullshit chain restaurant. There was no one here. A couple of weary old regulars at the bar.

CarolAnn and DeeDee were the kind of girls who naturally bonded together. Into their thirties now, voluptuous bordering on chubby, but hiding it successfully with artful layering of clothing and a perky, frisky attitude, as girls do. They both had round faces with eyes just a bit close-set, DeeDee's green, CarolAnn's brown. CarolAnn's hair was a pert brown bob that framed her face; DeeDee's a poofy mass of tinted blonde curls. Again, natural work companions.

"I'm right here," DeeDee said raising her glass to the bar and then taking another sip. "Let's see some dick." She was just kidding around though, no one but CarolAnn could hear her.

They had had a tough day at the bank. CarolAnn and DeeDee were tellers, and somehow there was some kind of alert on the business news about a shortfall in assets. So they had been confronted with a stream of angry customers withdrawing their money.

"I need someone to pull my hair and fuck my ass," DeeDee said, again not so loud that anyone else could hear it. Not that any of the tired old guys at the bar were in any position to take her up on it.

CarolAnn was doing the math. How had they spent so much in this shitty franchise restaurant? She had one credit card that, maybe, could take this charge without being declined. Maybe.

"Hey," she said with false cheer, "let me get this." She extracted her over-extended credit card from her wallet and placed it on the table. "You can just Venmo me or whatever."

"When I get obliterated like this," DeeDee said, "I just love it up the ass." She sipped her margarita again. "You ever get that way?"

No one anywhere had ever been up CarolAnn's ass. It was hard enough to meet guys that would just come out for a second date. She raised her margarita glass and then put it back down. Her stomach was rebelling.

"Baby, are you okay?" DeeDee said.

CarolAnn could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead. "Oh, yeah," she said.

DeeDee pulled the check toward herself and looked at it. "Look at us," she said, "two whores slamming drinks and no guys to pick up the tab."

CarolAnn smiled uneasily. She didn't think of herself as a whore. But DeeDee was basically her best friend in the world. "No," she said, "no worries. I got it."

"Fuck it," DeeDee said, "I got it. How much cash do you have?" She took another slug of her margarita, nearly finishing it, and started looking around.

What could she possibly have in her wallet? Twenty dollars? "Oh no," she said, "let's just put it on the card."

DeeDee slapped her purse on the table and started rooting through it. "I'd suck any dick in this bar, and these weirdos don't even know it." She raised her hand, summoning their bored waitress. "Two more," she said.

"Oh my god," CarolAnn said, "I can't."

"Yeah, you can. Buck up, princess." DeeDee was pulling a wad of bills from her purse. She started peeling hundreds off of it, while CarolAnn watched in increasing amazement. One, two, three. DeeDee looked up at CarolAnn. "You got, like, forty?"

CarolAnn laughed out loud, a sharp bark of a laugh. "I think I have twenty."

"No sweat." DeeDee threw another hundred on the table. "What I wouldn't do for cock, right now."

All of this was making CarolAnn distinctly uncomfortable. But at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder where all of this money was coming from. That roll of bills, it looked like, well, thousands of dollars. She and DeeDee were bank tellers, making eighteen dollars an hour. She hoped she wasn't going to lose her best friend. CarolAnn didn't have a lot of friends.

She picked up her margarita. Just as she did so, the waitress brought two more to the table.

"Oh boy," CarolAnn said. "Thanks."

"Sure thing," the waitress said, smirking at her. It was amazing to CarolAnn how these young kids got jobs with all the tattoos they had.

DeeDee had already finished her margarita. She picked up the new one. "You ever do two guys at the same time?" she said.

Oh my goodness, CarolAnn thought, remembering one particularly depressing episode in college. "Oh," she said, "you know, not that often."

DeeDee laughed out loud. "I bet."

There followed a silence that lengthened until CarolAnn couldn't help but interrupt it. "You, umm, you sure carry a lot of cash around."

"I guess," DeeDee said.

Another silence. DeeDee was content to sip her margarita.

CarolAnn sipped hers too, bolstering her courage to ask the next question.

"Do you have some kind of side hustle?"

DeeDee emptied her glass and set it down. "You gonna drink that?" she said, indicating the new margarita in front of CarolAnn.

CarolAnn stared at DeeDee in open amazement. "Oh, no," she said.

DeeDee picked up the new margarita. "Porn," she said.

"No, really," CarolAnn said, unable to help herself. "What."

"Actually," DeeDee said, "I'm the Lieutenant Governor of Rhode Island."

CarolAnn returned her stare, blinking. The two of them were not porn girls, not even close.

"Porn," DeeDee said again.

CarolAnn gasped. "Oh my god! Like, what? OnlyFans?"

DeeDee grimaced. "Fuck, no. I tried that. There's like two hundred girls who make any real money on that shit." She raised this next margarita to her lips, seemed to think better of it, and set it down. "Everybody else makes three hundred dollars and guys screenshot their boobs all over the internet."

"Oh," CarolAnn said meekly. Her eyes went instinctively to DeeDee's boobs. Once similar to CarolAnn's modest 36B's, they had suddenly transformed into proud and perkier 38D's or so when DeeDee had returned from Christmas break eight months ago.

"Porn," DeeDee said. "They still grind it out all over the Valley."

CarolAnn could feel herself gawking in amazement. She and DeeDee were, well, big girls. "What kind of movies? Anything I know?"

DeeDee shrugged, clearly pleased with herself. "That depends. How much porn do you watch?"

CarolAnn winced. This was inconceivable. She and DeeDee were not porn girls. They were try-hard girls. Heavy but cheerful. "Like BBW stuff?"

DeeDee sighed in exasperation. "Right now, I need to be fucked front and back," she said. "Just fucking railed mouth and ass." She lifted her margarita again and took a tender sip. "I'm a technical assistant on porn shoots."

"Oh my god!" CarolAnn blurted. "You're, like, a movie person? Like cameras and stuff? Editing?" This was shocking to her. DeeDee had never struck her as a person with professional skills.

DeeDee made a sour face and looked away.

Another silence. CarolAnn was afraid she had made DeeDee angry. "So," she said, "what?"

The silence dragged on. "I'm sorry," CarolAnn said.

"Technical assistant," DeeDee finally said. "It's basically just sucking dicks. Which," she took a big defiant gulp from her margarita, "I fucking love to do, and I get to do it off camera." She raised her glass to the bar and the weary old guys. "Mouth whore, here," she said, again not so loud as to cause a fuss.

CarolAnn was processing. "You're a..."

"Fluffer," DeeDee said. "I help the guys get ready to dump their loads in bukkake shoots. There's a lot of guys. Sometimes it's gangbang shoots, but mostly it's like a hundred guys, dump and go."

CarolAnn was gaping like a fish. She didn't know what to say.

DeeDee looked at her, looked away, then gave her the classic DeeDee piercing stare. CarolAnn wilted submissively.

"Do you know what it pays?" DeeDee said.

CarolAnn shook her head.

"Eighteen hundred dollars for three hours."

CarolAnn was blushing furiously now. "But," she said, "all those..."

"It's hard on your knees, but every guy has to present an STD test, no more than ten days old. You don't have to eat cum, you just have to be cheerful and help them get it up and get close, so they can go dump it on the girl of the day."

"The girl who..."

"Yeah, don't even think about it." The waitress came back and DeeDee put the hundreds in the folder and said, "Keep it." She regarded CarolAnn frankly. "That girl has an agent and is making ten, twelve thousand."

Carol Ann could feel herself hyperventilating. "One thousand eight hundred dollars," she said.

"Well," DeeDee said, "you'd have to prove you're, like..." She smirked again, gleefully, "skilled."

"Me?"

DeeDee raised her margarita glass and, amazingly, drained it. "They need new girls," she said.

"Me?" CarolAnn felt she was red as a beet.

"You," DeeDee said. "Why not?"

* * *

On the day of the shoot, CarolAnn was essentially having a nervous breakdown.

She had driven out to the address that DeeDee had given her, which was a nondescript warehouse kind of building off a highway ramp south of Culver City, by the airport. She was wearing a simple skirt and blouse because DeeDee had told her it didn't matter what she was wearing. She'd be naked soon enough. She sat in her car, perspiring despite the air conditioning, and considered driving right back home.

But she had filled out the paperwork, the waivers and permissions, and gotten the STD test. She'd talked to a man on the phone who didn't seem all that interested in her qualifications. "DeeDee says you're alright," was about all he said. "DeeDee's a fucking gem." And now she'd driven an hour and a half out here.

She had watched a few guys get out of cars and go inside; none of whom seemed all that awful. Who was she to say, anyway? Eighteen hundred dollars, she thought. Cash transfer, she wouldn't even have to pay taxes on it. She turned off the car ignition, got out and walked her best professional walk to the building.

There was a sign in the entryway that said Brentwood Productions above an arrow that pointed to the right toward a metal door at the distant end of the foyer. She walked down a flight of concrete stairs to another door and, beyond that, into a big low-ceilinged conference room lit by fluorescent lights. It looked like a state Division of Motor Vehicles office, except dozens of guys were wandering around in various stages of undress.

"Hi, said someone, and CarolAnn saw she was being approached by a beautiful young brunette in a tailored business suit.

"Hi!" CarolAnn said.

The girl plucked up the card CarolAnn was wearing on a lanyard around her neck, raised her phone to it and scanned the barcode on it. Her phone beeped and the girl smiled pleasantly. "Welcome aboard, CarolAnn," she said. "First time?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be." The girl's attention was already wandering away from her. "You're going to do just fine." She pointed to a door over CarolAnn's shoulder. "Go in there and they'll set you up." And then she walked away, toward where all the guys were milling around, all or mostly naked. This is what it must be like to be in a men's gym locker room, CarolAnn thought. Then she headed over to the door, which she saw had a little paper sign on it that said, Technical Assistants.

When she opened the door, she was so delighted she emitted a squeak of delight.

"DeeDee!" she said. "Thank god!"

DeeDee was standing in front of a small bank of lockers, naked to the waist, applying some kind of lotion around and under her boobs. And Jesus, what boobs. DeeDee must have paid plenty for them.

"Hiya, girl! I was starting to think I was gonna have to suck all these cocks by myself!"

CarolAnn was trying to raise her eyes from DeeDee's gorgeous tits, and failing. She could feel herself blushing. Her own tits suddenly seemed meager. "Am I late?" she said, but it came out as a whisper.

"Fuck, no, you're fine. This here is Consuela."

There was another person in the small room, a woman older than both CarolAnn and DeeDee, maybe in her forties, dark-complexioned with even a hint of grey in her hair. A cross on a chain hung between her ample, sideways-swaying boobs. She was completely naked, doing some kind of squat exercise, loosening up. She had a startling black bush of hair between her legs.

"Hi," CarolAnn said.

"Hey." Consuela, intent on her exercise, didn't look up.

"Get your clothes off, beautiful, we got work to do." DeeDee swooped her shorts off and then her panties. Her pussy was, thankfully, clean shaven.

CarolAnn was pretty sure she would never look at DeeDee in the next teller's station in the same way again. "I'm a little nervous," she said, for the second time.

"It's just cocks, baby! What's not to love?" DeeDee plucked up a lanyard resting on the bench behind her and draped it around her neck. "Come on, honey, chop chop."

Whew. Okay. CarolAnn placed her thumbs under the waistband of her skirt and pulled it down. She stepped out of it and placed it on the bench. Then the same with her panties. She stepped out of one sandal, then the other. She had spent hours, the previous evening, meticulously shaving her pussy and legs. She took her lanyard off.

If she had expected any kind of reaction, she didn't get it. Consuela was squatting; DeeDee had gone back to lotioning her movie star tits. CarolAnn pulled her blouse over her head and set it on the bench. Then she reached behind herself and freed her tits from her bra.

"I think I'm sporting junior high school tits here," she said.

"Oh, baby, no," DeeDee said. "They're nice. The guys are gonna love you."

CarolAnn was mortified. "You think so?"

DeeDee picked up CarolAnn's lanyard and placed it around her neck. She was standing close enough so they were touching boobs to boobs. CarolAnn could feel her nipples instantly responding, growing erect. Another embarrassment.

DeeDee grasped both of CarolAnn's hands. "Just stay with me in the beginning," she said. "Until you get up to speed. The most important thing is, try to keep the guys from blowing their loads. If they dump on you or on the floor or whatever, they don't get paid. Okay?"

"Okay," CarolAnn whispered.

And then they were out on the floor. The guys had congregated into small groups. Some guys already had hard-ons. Some were gently pulling on their limp dicks. The atmosphere, again, CarolAnn noticed, was not unlike a gym locker room. Convivial, friendly. A lot of these guys, she realized, probably knew each other from previous shoots.

DeeDee raised her arms over her head, making her tits, impossibly, even perkier. "You guys ready to dump some baby batter?" she yelled.

"YES!" everyone amiably yelled back.

At the back of the room, there was a long, stark-white partition. On the other side of it were movie lights casting a sparkly, otherworldly white glow. The bukkake queen must be on the other side of it.

"Okay, honey, here we go," DeeDee was saying quietly. "The key is to pick a special case first."

"A what?' CarolAnn said.

"Follow me."

DeeDee was walking across the room, making a point of swinging her spectacular tits. "You be nice to this girl I'm with here," she was saying. "She's new and she's my best friend in the world."

The guys cheered again.

CarolAnn could have teared up. She really loved DeeDee. DeeDee was making her way off to the left, to where one guy -- thirtyish, tall but chubby, balding, self-conscious -- was standing by himself. His dick hung limp between his legs. He looked startled, like he might run away.

"My friends call me DeeDee." DeeDee showed him her lanyard. "Do your friends call you," she made a show of looking at his wristband, "number 68?"

The guy grinned bashfully. "They call me Paul," he said.

"I bet they do!" DeeDee was running two light fingertips through Paul's chest hair, around his big circumference of belly, and then underneath, where she gently grasped about two inches of flaccid cock. "Big Paul."

"Ha, ha. Not really."

"Oh?" DeeDee was looking directly up into his eyes. "Have you been saving up a big, big load for the girl of the hour?"

Paul was blushing nearly scarlet. "About, ummm, four days."

"Four days! You're gonna leave that poor girl behind the screen a sloppy mess!"

Guys nearby, listening in, cheered again.

"Ha. I hope so."

DeeDee raised up onto her toes. "You're very tall," she said. "And I think you're definitely a grower." CarolAnn could see his dick was indeed growing, lengthening in DeeDee's light grasp. She was pulling on it tenderly.

DeeDee leaned into Paul's ear and faux-whispered so everybody could hear. "You mind if I take a closer look?"

"Ha ha, no. That's okay."

DeeDee knelt on the cold tiles before Paul's cock, now maybe fully erect at four inches." "Oh," she said, "I wish we had time for you to squeeze this big, beautiful cock up my ass."

Another cheer went up, this time from behind the partition. CarolAnn realized that guys must already be jerking off on the bukkake queen's face. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Consuela was already kneeling between two cocks, switching off, one to another, in an entirely businesslike way.

DeeDee had sweetly mouthed Paul's cock. She was looking up toward his eyes, but her gaze was blocked by Paul's big belly. She extended her tongue, lavishing the under side of his dick with a gentle caress. Then she pumped his dick into her face for four, five, six quick strokes, before releasing him.

"I love it up the ass," she said.

Paul moaned and instantly sprang away, running toward the partition.

"Go get her, Paul!" DeeDee yelled after him. "Hose that bitch down!"

CarolAnn realized that a guy was standing very close to her. He was short, even shorter than CarolAnn, with a furry chest and a blunt fireplug of a cock standing out from a generous bush of pubic hair.

Okay, she thought, here we go. She reached out and grasped his dick.

"Oh, my goodness," she said, "you're so... big around." It was true; the fingers of her hand couldn't reach entirely around it.

This guy, oblivious, pawed one of her boobs and started fucking her hand.

DeeDee was standing beside her, wiping saliva from the corners of her mouth.

"A lot of these guys," she said, "don't need much help. They do these shoots all the time."

"OH!" CarolAnn yelped. This fireplug guy had released her boob and reached around to finger her asshole. She faltered, but then kept stroking his dick.

DeeDee laughed out loud. "These guys love assholes," she said. "Don'tcha, honey?"

"Uh, huh." The guy was furiously pumping away at her hand, and then swooped in to kiss CarolAnn on the cheek. "Thanks, honey," he said. And then he was off, around the partition. Another cheer.