The Gig Pt. 04

Pat placed with shaking hands the desserts in front of the seated men. Her nipples were still on fire and her knees weak, her eyes blurry with tears. Her breath was caught in her throat as waves of pain and pleasure were ricocheting across her body. A long drop of clear grool was dripping from her pussy, tracing a long cool line down her inner thigh.

The men were speaking, but Pat could not concentrate enough to understand the words coming out of their mouths.

When she placed a plate in front of Robert, he slipped his hand between her legs and traced his fingertips up her thighs, all the way up, until his fingers brushed against the soft, and very wet, lips of her sex. She froze, trembling. The assembled men could only see that Robert's hand was somewhere under that apron, but could not see what he was doing. He slipped a finger into her pussy. Pat could not hold back a gasp. She leaned forward a bit, pushing her ass out, pulling his finger deeper into her wet cunt.

He shoved another finger in, obviously finger-fucking her from behind as she leaned on the table. She hung her head, shamelessly moaning as that orgasm was finally going to arrive and deliver her from the hot ball of tension that had seized her body. The men seated around the table were silent, frozen, staring.

Robert suddenly stopped.

Pat moaned, a long and plaintive cry, her hips rolling around his impaling fingers, trying to fish that orgasm for herself. Robert pulled his fingers out, wiping her juices off of them on her bare ass. Pat bit her lip and stood up straight, almost crying with frustration.

"Take the apron off," muttered one of the men, "give us a real show!"

Before Pat could reach behind her to undo her apron, something she did without hesitating or thinking, Robert stopped her.

"Guys, we can't go too far, we're not in private here," he said, nodding towards the door. Pat tried to breathe deeply and quench the fire in her pussy. Waves of wet heat were spreading from her wet cunt, from her swollen clit. This was torture of the sweetest kind. She stiffened her knees and stepped away from Robert, her hands shaking.

Amanda walked in with the rest of the dessert plates. Everyone turned, surprised. Amanda placed the last two plates in front of the men, looking suspiciously at Pat and Robert.

"She's still dressed," said one of the men, pointing at Amanda.

A flurry of fifty dollar bills rained on Amanda. She gathered the bills and placed her hands on her hips.

"So I'm dessert?" she said, smiling.

The men laughed and clapped.

"Okay. Let's see..." she said, making a show of counting the bills. She walked over to the end of the table so that she could face all of them. She started unbuttoning her shirt.

"Let the other one do it!" blurted out one of the guys.

There was a chorus of cheers. Robert pushed Pat forward, his hand firm against her bare ass. Pat walked around the table, very aware that every man in the room was staring at her ass, at the side of her bare boob, at the curve of her bare belly which led to her burning clit. This might be a welcome distraction from her burning need.

She stood in front of Amanda.

"How do you want to do this?" she whispered to her.

"Just undo the buttons, I'll do the rest," replied Amanda.

Pat reached for the top button on Amanda's shirt and undid it. The following buttons were harder. She had to reach inside the apron, her hands pressed against the soft flesh of her friend's breasts. She could feel her hard nipples poking the back of her hands. She undid the next few buttons, her hands drifting lower, the shirt opening more and more. Pat was very aware of the closeness of Amanda's body; she could smell her perfume, a mix of musky and sweet. She could feel the heat of her body against her hands. More than anything, she could feel the stare of the assembled men on her ass. With her back to them, she looked naked, the curve of her back leading to the swell of her hips, to the cleft of her ass, to that wet, hungry spot nestled between her thighs. Pat wouldn't look up, but licked her lips.

Finally done, she stepped aside. With some flourish, Amanda removed her shirt and tossed it to the side. Her heavy breasts jiggled behind the apron. An arc of dark flesh marked where an areola threatened to peek out.

Amanda turned, swishing her hips like a burlesque dancer. She made a show of reaching for the zipper of her skirt.

"Stop," said Robert in a tone that froze both Amanda and Pat. "Put your hands on the bookcase in front of you. Above your head. Higher."

Amanda followed his instructions, a frustrated look on her face that only Pat could see. Amanda was not used to be told what to do. But now, in that position, she was leaning slightly forward, braced by her hands against that bookcase. If her hands slipped, she would fall. Her ass was pushed out towards the men.

"Now take her skirt off," ordered Robert.

Pat stepped forward and unzipped Amanda's skirt. It peeled open, but stayed on her hips.

"Pull it down," instructed Robert.

Pat started tugging at the skirt, pulling it over Amanda's wide hips. With a last tug, it fell to the floor, revealing Amanda's long toned legs and sculpted ass. Her small black thong barely contained the fullness of her pussy peeking from between her thighs.

Pat knew what to do next. She took hold of the thong with both hands and pulled it down, slowly. She made sure to stand to the side so that the men had a good view as the gusset of the thong peeled away from Amanda's shaved labia. Meaty inner lips pushed out from within. Amanda stepped out of her panties, opening her legs. All the men's eyes were locked on her pussy as the step opened her up, the lips parting to reveal a deeper pink within.

Pat and Amanda were equally naked now, both dressed in only their shoes and apron. Amanda stayed in her position, her ass pointed at the men. She looked over her shoulder saucily and slowly jiggled her butt.

Robert motioned to Pat. She understood. She raised her hand and "Smack!" She landed a resounding hand on Amanda's ass. Amanda yelped and started to turn, surprised and a little angry.

"Don't move," ordered Robert.

Amanda froze. Robert nodded to Pat. Pat raised her hand again. She smacked Amanda's other cheek. Two red hand prints could now be clearly seen on Amanda's ass.

"Why don't you girls switch," said Robert.

Amanda pushed herself off the bookcase and faced Pat. There was a wicked grin on her lips. Pat suddenly became very nervous. But she obeyed and she too placed her hands on the bookcase, leaning forward. Presenting her ass.

Smack!

Amanda needed no direction. She landed a solid hit on one cheek.

Smack!

On the other. Pat bit her lip to keep from crying out. Amanda started landing a hard spanking on Pat's ass, switching back and forth from cheek to cheek, hitting open hand and flicking her fingers, drawing squeals from Pat. The men were entranced, watching Pat's ass grow redder and redder, while at the same time watching Amanda's breasts swing free from the apron as she swung her hand to and fro. Her breasts had their own momentum, swinging side to side, thick nipples hard, each swing brushing the apron further to the side until it was a clump of fabric squeezed between the two bare globes.

There was an urgent knock on the door.

Amanda grabbed her clothes and sprinted to the pantry. Pat, too stunned by the pain radiating from her red ass, simply crumbled to the ground.

The door opened and an elderly gentleman poked his head in.

"Is everything all right? We had complaints about some noise..." the man's voice drifted off as he caught sight of Pat, on the floor, her legs tucked underneath her, but obviously naked under her apron.

"She tripped and fell, that's all, thank you," said Robert.

"Sir, we have rules, I will have to.." started the man.

Robert interrupted him.

"Invite your manager here. Go get him. We have nothing to hide," he said pleasantly.

The man left, closing the door behind him.

Robert got up and lifted Pat to her feet by an elbow. The men around the table were in a tizzy.

"Just finish your desserts and say nothing. Pick up the money, straighten your ties," he commanded the men.

He pulled Pat up and lead her to the linen closet. He tossed her in and told her to be quiet. In the pantry, Amanda was putting her clothes back on.

Robert turned to Amanda.

"Good. Make us drinks to go with the desserts. Make an extra one. Nothing happened, understood?" he asked Amanda.

"Crystal clear," she replied, and immediately started pouring small glasses of port and straightening her hair.

Pat curled up on the floor of the linen closet. The door was still open, Robert standing there, looking at her. He reached down and grabbed the apron, yanking it off of her. She was now naked, helpless. Robert tossed the apron on the floor.

The dining room door opened and an officious gentleman entered the room. Robert turned and welcomed him. He went back into the dining room, leaving the linen closet door open.

Amanda walked by with glasses in her hand, glancing at her. Pat stood up. Her ass was too sore to sit. She tried to be quiet as a discussion was taking place in the room nearby. Amanda walked by again.

She stopped at the linen closet entrance. She turned and took a step in. She reached down, between Pat's legs.

"Excuse me," she whispered, smiling.

She slid her hands against Pat's pussy, splitting it open, rubbing a knuckle against Pat's clit. Pat bit her lip, but spread her feet a bit, giving Amanda better access.

Amanda grabbed a dish towel from the shelf behind Pat. She leaned in and gently kissed Pat on the mouth. She then smiled and walked away, dish towel in hand.

Pat clenched her fists and bit her lip, desperately trying to be quiet. Her ass was on fire, a feeling that never failed to turn her on. She wanted to rub her clit, give herself some relief, but she didn't trust herself to not make noise. The men's voices continued in the room nearby, so terribly close. She didn't dare make a peep. Several agonizing minutes went by, and still the men talked. There was some low laughter, so things seem to be going well. Pat shuffled from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable. Amanda walked by once with a bottle of liquor, but nothing else happened for a long time.

Then Robert appeared at the door. He didn't look at Pat, his eyes searching over her head. He was still talking to someone in the dining room.

"I bought this bottle on my last trip to Provence, fantastic little vineyard, it's somewhere around here..." he said over his shoulder.

With one hand he unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick but flaccid cock out. He continued babbling about some wine. For an instant he locked eyes with Pat. His intent was clear.

She knelt at his feet, tilted her face up and delicately took the head of his cock into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it, feeling it grow harder. She quickly took the whole soft length into her mouth. She loved this part. As it grew harder and longer, Robert's cock forced it's way down her throat, pushing her jaw open. She tried to keep her mouth as far down on his cock, almost deep-throating it, until she had to pull back, gasping, leaving it wet with her saliva. Robert kept talking, making a show of looking for something. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her back on his cock. Pat didn't resist and let him push his cock deep into her mouth. He pumped her head a few times before releasing her. Pat got the hint. She started furiously working his cock with her mouth, reaching up with her hand to cradle his balls, to stroke his shaft.

Robert put his hands on his hips, looking cross.

"You know, I could have sworn it was in here. But maybe I was wrong. Sorry to raise your expectations like that," he said, addressing the dining room.

Pat was furiously jacking Robert off now, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock as her hand flew up and down the shaft. Fear was gripping her gut, and her cunt. She could be discovered at any second if she made any noise. She could be caught, naked, cock in her mouth, looking like a true slut. The thought of it made her pussy clench. She needed to make Robert cum as soon as possible. She sucked harder, driven by fear and lust.

"Ah yes, hold on.." said Robert, leaning forward into the linen closet. He shoved his cock into Pat's mouth and came, a thin jet of hot semen splashing across her tongue and throat. Robert's hand clench around her hair, pulling it painfully, as he tried to stay silent. Pat held on to his cock, sucking the last drop out of him before letting his softening cock slip out of her mouth.

She delicately tucked his now soft cock back into his pants and zipped him up. Without a look back, Robert walked back to the dining room. Pat stayed on her knees, the taste of semen thick on her tongue.

When she looked up, she noticed that one of the men was standing against the wall of the dining room, nursing a drink. He was looking right at her. He had seen everything. A small tent was growing in the front of his pants.

Pat stayed on her knees and looked right at him. A good little slave.

The man set his drink on the bookshelf and as casually as possible made his way to the short hallway. With one last look at the dining room, he stepped through the hallway and into the linen closet. He was less bold than Robert, more fearful. He didn't dare be seen. He scooted as far back into the closet as possible, his back against the row of shelving.

The linen closet was tiny. Already on her knees, with him in the closet, Pat found herself pressed against his hard cock. Without waiting, she unzipped him and pulled out his modest erection. He was less endowed than Robert, but Pat enjoyed that. She could do more with that. She opened her mouth and in a single move buried her nose in his graying pubes, the tip of his cock bumping against her throat. His hands grabbed her shoulders. He almost cried out.

The men were still talking in the dining room. Robert's voice sounded distant, muffled, to Pat. Her ears were filled with the ragged breath of the man who's cock was in her mouth. Her attention was fully on him now.

Pat started a slow sucking rhythm, keeping his cock as deep as possible in her mouth, swallowing repeatedly to stroke the underside of dick. Her hand went fishing for his balls, cradling them. One finger extended, rubbing his perineum, her fingernail scratching gently at his asshole. She knew what she was doing.

He almost lost it right there and then.

Pat pulled off of his cock, stroking his shaft in slow and soft arcs of her hand. She smiled at him. There was nowhere else that gave her such a sense of calm, of power and vulnerability at the same time. On her knees, adoring a man's cock. The satisfaction of a slave's job well done.

He spurted, catching Pat by surprise. A jet of hot cum splashed across her chin, falling onto her chest. She dove onto the cock, catching the next spurt. She swallowed, sucking the rest, cleaning his cock with her tongue. He pushed her back, now too sensitive to be touched. He quickly stuffed his cock back into his pants and walked out. Pat licked her lips. A thick glob of cum was slowly oozing down her chest. Pat left it there.

In the pantry, Amanda just watched, licking her lips.

The voices in the dining room intensified. Goodbyes were being spoken. The door opened and closed. Pat stayed on her knees in the linen closet. Amanda peeked out in the dining room. More drinks were called for.

A head peeked into the linen closet. One of the other men was looking at Pat, eyes shiny with lust. The fourth guy joined him. There was a quick hushed discussion with whoever was behind them. Was that Robert's voice? The men stepped closer, the two of them filling the small entrance to the closet.

Pat simply reached up and pulled down their zippers. The men were a little shocked, but they didn't move away. As if this was the most normal, casual thing in the world, Pat reached into their pants and pulled out their growing erections, one in each hand. She didn't bother to look up at the men. But as she started to slowly stroke the thickening cocks, she looked past them, at Robert who was standing behind them. When his gaze met hers a wicked smile spread on his lips.

Without losing eye contact with Robert, Pat leaned in and took the first cock in her mouth. It was of average size, so she let herself sink slowly all the way down, filling her mouth and throat with the silky smoothness of the man's dick. She swallowed a bit, massaging the cock with her throat. Her hand was on the other cock, softly tracing her fingers across its length.

She pulled her head back and released the cock from her wet mouth. Finally breaking eye contact with Robert, she turned and slipped the other cock between her lips, giving it the same long, deep swallow. Her hand started to slide up and down on the now-wet shaft of the dick she had just released.

The man she was sucking grabbed hold of her hair. He wasn't going to last very long. He smelled of whiskey and old-man sweat, a musky tang that filled Pat's nostrils as she buried her nose in his pubic hair, her mouth stretched open around his shaft. She wasn't supposed to be blowing old guys, not at her age, not the nice college student that she was. The deliciousness of her transgression made her pussy drool.

Amanda stood in the pantry, watching the two men get their slow, sensual blow-jobs. Pat knew how to work a cock, that's for sure. Everyone else was watching Pat suck on those cocks too; Robert, with that little smile on his face; the other gent who already had his dick sucked; the bus boy...

The bus boy was standing next to Amanda, mouth open, watching silently. He was idly re-arranging an erection that was tenting his pants. He and Amanda exchange a quick glance, and both resumed watching Pat.

Pat had started to up the tempo. She had one cock in each hand, holding them firmly by the base. She moved her head back and forth, dipping fully onto one cock, then the other, then back to the first. Each time she took the full length of the cocks into her throat. She took a short break, jacking both off with her hands as she caught her breath. Her face was red, her mascara running down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, a mass of long brown hair falling across her shoulders, held up by sweat and sperm. The man had released her hair and was now holding on to her shoulder. He looked like he might fall over if he let go. His head was thrown back and a low guttural sound was pouring out of his lips in a continuous moan.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, and pulled out his cock from her mouth.

He grabbed his dick in his meaty hand and started pumping furiously. Pat took a quick suck on the other cock in front of her face, keeping her eyes on the man frantically masturbating. She switched back, flicking her tongue out, offering her mouth as a target.

"Fuuuuuuck...," gasped the man, his hand now a blur on his cock.

Suddenly the other man grunted and spurted out a long string of cum. It landed across Pat's face and neck, dripping across her ear. Pat quickly turned to swallow the swollen head of his cock, sucking out the last drops of hot cum. He spurted a final load on the back of her tongue, which she swallowed greedily. She continued sucking until he pushed her away, his cock quickly softening.

Pat turned back to the last cock just in time.

With a roar the man grabbed Pat by the back of the head, his fingers digging through her hair. He shoved his cock into her mouth, pushing her back so hard that she fell back, crashing into the shelves of linen. He stumbled forward, catching himself with one hand, the other locked on her head, shoving her face into his crotch. His cock was buried as deep into her throat as it could go, chocking Pat, filling her mouth completely.