The Cookie Crumbles

Facing that way, those guys saw my tiny shirt rise over my swelling boobs and when I deftly parted my hands, giving them a very brief glimpse of my bodacious body and a flash of the pert, pink nipples standing erect and crowning the tips of my swaying tits, they drooled with excitement and yelled for a more thorough look. I blew them a few "air-kisses" and batted my green eyes at some gullible types, then I laughed a little and spun around.

Then I turned back to Butch and listened as the others moaned in disappointment. I lifted my clingy shirt over my head, ruffling my blonde hair in the process. And smiled as they all hooted and barked like wild animals. Then I waved it overhead like a lasso and tossed it into the mass of horny men. I strode towards Butch and offered him a good look. My tits were plump and swinging slightly from all of the shaking back and forth. I was heaving from the stuffy air and trying to gather my breath from the erotic, seductive atmosphere. I cupped the undersides of my moist globes and hefted them to his face, watching intently as his big brown eyes widened and his red, serpentine tongue lashed-out at my swaying mammaries. I gripped them in my palms inches from his desperate grasp and pinched the perky nipples between my fingers to further engorge them.

He held out another twenty and I let him slide the coarse bill between the damp gap formed when I squeezed my big juggs together. He kept jimmying the note up and down in the tight valley and told me that he wanted his meaty cock to follow that money, into the dark crevice of my firm rack. I let him know that would require more cash. And then I pressed my tits together tight enough to trap the money and tug it out of his hand with a wry smile. But I wasn't going to just leave him hanging. His friends were sort of snickering at him and the other patrons were laughing at the amount of cash that I had already taken from him, so that he could glance at a pair of tits at a strip club. Besides, I found him to be cute in an overly large, teddy bear kind of way. He looked intimidating but it seemed to me like having a big dog for a pet. I was actually falling for him.

I genuinely smiled and he grinned back, enjoying the way I teased him. I grabbed his scruffy face and pulled his bearded mouth into my cleavage. His wooly whiskers tickled my tits as he suckled at my nipples. He wrapped his pie-plate sized hands around my waist and squeezed the cheeks of my ass roughly through the dank denim. As he slobbered kisses on my chest and playfully bit at my pouty nubs, he mentioned again that he wanted to push his big cock between my cushiony boobs.

I whispered to him that this is my only dance set and after I gather some of the other fellas' money, I may let him stick his cock somewhere else. He smiled and sat back down, but I heard him encourage the rest of the guys to tip me generously. He even called out to Charlie- knowing that I came with him- that he should take good care of me or risk losing me. The remaining audience was clamoring for more of a show. At this point, though I was topless there was still folding money in sight, and I had more ammunition to bargain with.

I leaned against the pole to catch my breath and the cool metal on my perspiring flesh felt nice and it made my nipples sprout even more noticeably. I eased my sweaty, glistening torso slowly down the cold pole. Finally, I was sitting on the hard wooden floor with my legs extended but slightly bent. I pushed with my hips until I was practically on my back and was rubbing my hand between my legs feeling the warmth and wetness of the fabric as I pressed my palm into my crotch. I was grinding and pounding my ass against the floor while undoing the button and zipper slowly to open my pants at the waist. The boys howled for more.

With one hand tweaking and kneading my pliant melons, I loosened my jeans and began to shimmy them down over my hips. This wasn't the sexiest routine because I knew they would be tough to remove like this. But I was new to this type of unveiling and terribly afraid of any acrobatics that involved that slippery pole. My jeans were so tight and so sweaty, that there was no erotic way to peel them off of my sticky thighs.

I noticed the foot-fetish guy grinning as my bare feet were nearest to him. So I asked him if maybe he and a friend could help me out of a tight situation, then I swung on my butt and pointed my painted toes in his direction. He and his buddy threw another wad of cash on stage, and they each took hold of a pant leg. Then as I lifted my hips from the floor, those two yanked my tight, wet jeans past my knees and over my pink toenails. The cool air felt nice and my moistened legs looked shiny and smooth in the spotlight. They both kissed my feet as they emerged from the denim and pawed at my lower legs, while I spread my thighs open wide, exposing to all my toned legs and firm calves. And also letting anyone else in the room see that all I had left between me and total nudity was my thin, soggy, nearly transparent, pink panties.

When one of the bouncers mentioned that by law, I could not remove my soaked undies, (I marveled that this is where they drew the line,) the sound guy dimmed the lights and played me off of the stage. I gathered my money and ran for the dressing room. Everyone cheered. I was given a Pussy Cat robe to cover my nakedness, since all of my clothing became instant souvenirs. I did surprisingly find my shoes and showed Charlie my wages for about twenty minutes of "dancing," about $400.00. He peeled off four Benjamins and handed me a plastic glass of cheap champagne, while slathering wet kisses on my cheek and feeling my tits under the cheap robe.

I told him that the manager asked to speak with me, and I headed towards the back room. I don't know if he believed me or not. I also no longer cared. I motioned to Butch with a wink of the eye, to follow me. He and his pal were right behind me as we went through a curtain and down the hall. They led me into the men's room, where two more of his buddies watched the door. I dropped my robe and sprinkled cool water on my hot flesh as the men ogled and slobbered over my nude body. Then I dropped to my knees in front of Butch. I worked at his zipper while he played with my tits. Those hard, calloused hands caressed my breasts and he thumbed my pert nipples. I tugged his pants to half-mast and felt the tingle in my belly as I went to work. His cock was instantly hard as I extracted it from his dirty pants. It appeared dark and veiny, springing from a nest of wiry, black curls. I kissed the soft tip first and slid the helmeted cap into my mouth and used my tongue to grease its passage down my throat. It tasted of sweat and grime, but the raunchy naughtiness of this sordid affair that lit a fire in my pussy, led me to continue with this debauchery. I really get turned-on by being made submissive to strong men. That gigantic organ filled my cheeks and I slowly bobbed up and down to get our juices flowing. His pelvis rammed my chin as he seemed eager to cum.

It took him only a second, in fact I hardly needed to stroke his thick tool, to feel him shudder and push against my tonsils. His sturdy cock felt rough on the inside of my cheek, and the bulging tip wedged itself deep in my throat. While I was sucking him, two bruising hands reached from behind me, roughly abusing my pert nips. My eyes lit-up but Butch reassured me that it was merely his best pal "T.J." and that they were used to sharing. TJ kept poking and prodding at my bouncing boobs while Butch held my head steady and pumped away with vigor.

Soon, I heard him roar and felt him shiver, and my mouth was coated in his warm, gooey cum. I managed to drain his pounding tool but he kept driving it into me until he came out empty. The initial load flowed right down but then he squirted a few more times and a drizzle of soupy liquid oozed down my chin. I gulped and swallowed as much as I could, and started to wipe my mouth and get up, but before I could regain my footing, I was spun around where I was immediately confronted with TJ's erection. It was longer but not as thick, and it was ready for action. His balls were bigger and full like plums. The head was more streamlined, which I guess helps, because it drove straight through my lips and settled at the back of my throat, when he began to push. The darting action seemed frantic as he plunged deep and fast. I had just recovered from Butch when this second concussive wave started. TJ meant to drill the back of my head off.

Butch wasn't finished with me. He was only half hard, but his cock was shiny and well-lubed with the dribbling of his cum and my saliva. And I imagine that the sight of my nearly bare ass on all fours, inches from his ready rod, just spurred him on. I assumed that he was about to fuck my tits like he wanted, but he went the more traditional way. This time it was TJ holding me by the ears and forcing his engorged erection up and down my gullet, until I sensed it throbbing in my throat. I felt his large balls rise and contract on my chin and his lean cock went into spasms. Butch took this opportunity to grip the skimpy, soggy cotton material of my panties and rip them from my moist thighs. My dank, excited cunt lips were only too willing to part for the entrance of his slick, thrusting cock.

For the first minute, Butch controlled himself and let his thick rod glide along my dampened labia, moistening the outer and inner lips, before pushing the solid ramrod into my tingling cunt. His stroke was steady and increasingly more forceful. He was pounding his slithering seven inches into my tight, hot hole. His hard cock slid against my exposed clitoris with each upstroke and I was in ecstasy. My own contractions and hot flow made his pumping into my tight cunt easier to take. But, I was concentrating on the piston-like hammer that was maniacally pumping its hot load down my throat, as I sputtered and gagged until big tears came to my eyes. He too, held on to my face until he had erupted like a firehose and his ejaculate was completely swallowed.

I absorbed about a gallon of creamy cum from both ends in about five minutes. That was probably offset by the many times that I climaxed trying to service these two. I wanted whatever these guys could offer. Both men groaned as they finished and gave each end of me, one tremendous thrust. I'm sure that I looked a whorey, sleazy mess. I was being spit-roasted, on all fours, in the men's room of a strip club, and somehow I found it to be a kinky thrill and hugely erotic. I came as often as they did, maybe more. My mouth and pussy were saturated at the same time and I knelt there on that cheap robe, with frothy white cum oozing-out from either end of me. With a smack on the ass and the sound of zippers closing, all I heard from Butch was that they would wait for me outside and that I should "take care" of "Sonny" and "Griff," 'cause we needed to go.

I didn't even understand what that meant until the two of them walked out, and Sonny and Griff- the two who were patrolling the door- introduced themselves by poking their huge cocks towards my lipstick-smeared face. Ironically, I felt sorry for them. I had taken most of their money and they had to watch from the door as their two friends got their dicks wet. And now, they would receive sloppy, rushed blowjobs from some tramp that they hadn't even met.

Sonny was the first to step to the plate. "C'mon," he said, "Make this quick, we need to ride." He looked slightly pathetic with his long hair and scraggly beard, above a leather jacket adorned with various patches that showed both his big arms and hairy chest, but with his jeans pulled down to his knees and stained "tighty- whities" tangled around his big thighs. "C'mon, c'mon, Butch said we have to go. Just open your mouth and suck my cock." He was yanking it in his palm as he spoke and I had to refrain from laughing. He placed his hand on my head, pressing me down and forced his knob through my lips. "Hurry now, c'mon. Be a good girl."

His buddy chimed in as he grabbed two meaty handfuls of my sweaty tits and squeezed them together with his cock in between. He used my sweat like lube and fucked my slickened tits in the way that Butch alluded to. He tugged at them and fondled the taut flesh as if he was a kid modeling clay with Play-doh. "Hurry-up bitch, jerk my cock while you suck him. I want to cum on those big fun-bags you got." It wasn't quite romantic, but I wrapped my lips around Sonny's cock and gave him a few good licks. That's all it took because he was over-excited. He flooded my mouth with his hot jizm. And it didn't take Griff any longer, as soon as I grabbed his slightly darker meat-stick and ran it through my cleavage a couple of times. I could feel his warm spirit spurting into my cleavage and up to my neck, in a greasy pearl necklace. It was quick and dirty but they both emptied their wad and were happy with the result.

I didn't find the taste of Sonny's ejaculate to be any different from the cum-blasts of the previous two, and I'm glad he was fast because my jaws were getting sore. Griff left his mark on my tits. Both, the roughened hand-prints turning black and blue, and the creamy white stain that splattered all over my chest and seeped down to my belly. He rubbed his sticky secretion all over my breasts and nipples. This was more of a problem since I needed to rinse the slimy residue from my torso, and without ever finding my clothes, I was forced to wear the same thin, cheap robe that I knelt on to give blowjobs and became transparent when it touched my wet body. But considering that I had sucked-off half of them and stripped for the rest, I guess we were past any formalities. I emerged from the room looking exactly like you might imagine. Lipstick smeared across my face and hair disheveled, pointy tits poking through the wet, dusty smock, and practically dripping with the cum of assorted men that I barely knew.

When we walked out of the bathroom, another sleazy dancer was already into her routine. I wouldn't be missed at The Pussy Cat, but ironically I would end up working there soon. The biker bunch was spending the last of their money on six-packs and I couldn't find Charlie to buy me other clothes. Butch found me and told me the boys had "convinced" Charlie that I would be going home with them, and that I wouldn't be needing clothes for a while, anyway. That's the last time that I ever saw Charlie. I rode on the back of Butch's Harley and they took me to their hangout.

There were a few wild days that followed and Butch and I culminated a whirlwind courtship in a "marriage." It seems that one of the gang had just received a mail-order degree as a preacher and was apparently legally entitled to perform the ritual, so he was eager to try it with some dumb couple. Our drunken post-wedding celebration consisted of Butch having sex with three of the groupie chicks that rode with us. While I was "obliged" to bend over the arm of a worn, stained sofa as each of the "groomsmen" would stick their fat cocks down my throat for lubrication, and then rotate around to dump a deposit in my swollen pussy.

I didn't bother to wear white. I was getting fairly nonchalant about fucking and sucking. It wasn't about money or pleasure anymore, it was almost like being bored and having nothing better to do. It wasn't a sex-drive as much as a sexual addiction to being debased and used. I'll admit that I still enjoyed the challenge of handling whichever cocks stood before me, and I always climaxed, but it was more like if there was nothing good on TV, bring your cock over and I'll get you off.

I don't remember how many guys took advantage of me. Or which ones managed to cum in both my mouth and my cunt. But I do remember that each of the other girls- as their "wedding gift"-were required to lick the semen from my snatch before they were placed in the same situation. There were rumors that if I wished to be certain, or to replay anything that I missed, a couple guys recorded the whole crude affair. It might make a sweet wedding album for the family.

Finally, when I could walk straight again, I was returned to Butch. We fell into bed and passed out. There were no regrets, I had fun and was not forced to do anything that I didn't like. There were times when a little "coercion" was applied, but I was never taken against my will. Possibly, I was just getting bored with it all. I was uncomfortably sticky and sore but was able to sleep until midafternoon despite all of the snoring and moaning around me. Butch was clamoring for a honeymoon blowjob when we woke up, but the guys had some sort of drug deal already lined-up and they needed to go right away. That actually was the last time that I ever saw my "husband" too.

The shootout that followed resulted in my eventual court case, and amazingly left me a fairly wealthy woman. The case dragged-on and my reputation took a bit of a hit but eventually I moved far from town and settled into a different lifestyle as a thirty-two year old single woman who worked as a secretary. My dress was much more conservative; my ashy-blonde locks were normally in a bun, reading glasses hung from a chain around my neck, there was always a bra and slip, and low heels. I've put on a little weight, but my figure could not be totally hidden, and I still had an eye for the men, I just didn't act on it nearly as readily. Maybe I was growing up.

For about ten years I lived in relative obscurity having turned over a new leaf. People knew me as a quiet widow with a secret, who still had a curvy shape and laughed at crude humor, but kept to herself, dating only occasionally and had a nice home in the suburbs. My new life beckoned but was not entirely idyllic. The tug was always there, though I tried to fight it. A leopard can't change his spots.

One evening I came home from work and experienced an eerie sense that someone had been in my house. You know that feeling that though nothing was obviously ransacked, you know that your things had been moved or inspected. I felt like my mail had been read or that the clothes in my closet had been fondled and rearranged. And it seemed that someone had sat or laid on my bed. I got chills and hurriedly ran to check all of the doors and windows for some sign of forced entry.

I went to calm my nerves with a glass of whiskey and felt that the bottle which I only opened yesterday, appeared less full than I remembered. There was even an empty glass on the counter... did I leave that there? I tried to recall how much I had to drink the day before. Maybe I was just being silly. A long, warm bath would settle my nerves.

I undressed in the bedroom, carefully scanning every corner and shadow. I threw a plush robe over my naked and jittery flesh and moved to the bathroom where I ran the hot water in the tub. As I settled into the sudsy water, the clothes hamper caught my eye because the lid was up. I never leave it like that unless I'm in a real hurry, I racked my brain trying to recall this morning's departure. My silk pajamas and worn undies looked as if they had been sorted through and a cold shudder went through me.

The walls seemed suddenly close. I felt uneasy and listened intently for any odd sounds but everything seemed normal. Even the bath water seemed to splash too loud, I was jumping with each uneasy heartbeat. I rushed through my bath feeling particularly vulnerable. I was always watching the door and kept covering my tits with a washcloth as if that would bring protection. The water was too cold, the air too still, I had to escape. Downstairs, I fixed a very unappetizing meal and checked the doors twice more before going to bed early and had a disturbing, anxious night's sleep. Nothing further happened and a few days later I forgot the whole thing, chalking it up to stress at work.