The Severance Package Ch. 02

The Severance Package 2 - Hitting the Road

A Short Story by J. K. Ermon (jokermon)

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission.

This story is copyright©2024 J. K. Ermon.

~~~

Part 1: A Reconciled Enemy

"Why are we heading off the interstate?" Melinda asked.

"We're almost in West Virginia," answered Connie, changing lanes smoothly onto the exit ramp. "According to the Green Book, there's a colored-friendly truck stop up ahead. It's the last one we'll get 'til dinnertime. Also, we need to change our... seating arrangements."

Melinda was sprawled on her back across the DeSoto's front seat with her head in Connie's lap. She had the shotgun window down with her bare feet up on the sill and her toes in the breeze. Her long legs were fully extended and crossed leisurely at the ankles. A brand-new textbook (Temple University Law Review, May 1956) lay open upon her considerable bosom.

She tilted her head back and looked up.

"What's wrong with our seating arrangement?"

Connie made an exasperated noise. "A colored woman driving a car is conspicuous enough. But sharing the front seat with a white woman?"

"Oh. I see your point."

"Believe me," said Connie, "once we're over that state line, we will want to attract as little attention as possible until we get to the Four Leaf."

"I still say it would have been quicker to take the Maryland route."

They'd discussed this, or rather Melinda had suggested it and Connie had flatly refused. They were taking the route of her choosing, westward across Pennsylvania, and then south before Pittsburgh.

"Not an option," she said.

"Don't you have family there?"

Connie had to suppress a shudder at the thought of introducing Melinda to her heavy-handed and puritanical father. Not just a white woman, but one of the Hag-Born, and her lover to boot.

"None that I care to visit," she said shortly.

She bit her lip. She didn't like being snappish and abrupt with Melinda. It reminded her of when she was a schoolteacher dealing with classrooms full of snarky kids and then later, during the war years, horny GIs. Just prior to her long, thankless stint as a banker's maid.

Her father was a sore spot with her. He was a minister and hadn't approved of her going to a secular college. Nor had he ever forgiven her refusing to take her place in his church, or as he put it, 'the family business.' It was an ongoing fight that became a lasting estrangement. He had refused to attend her wedding and later, Marvin's funeral.

She let a hand drift down from the steering wheel and caressed Melinda's face.

"Believe me," she said, "the less time we spend south of the Mason-Dixon line, the better."

Melinda took her hand and kissed it.

"It's your car, sweetheart." Her tone told Connie she considered the matter settled.

~~~

They had a late lunch at the truck stop, sitting at separate tables to attract less attention. Melinda filled up a picnic basket with sodas and cold cuts for the road. When they pulled out, Connie was back behind the wheel and Melinda was in the back seat.

"If we get pulled over," said Connie, "we need to have the same story."

"All right," said Melinda with a shrug. "I'm a co-ed debutante and you're my driver-slash-maidservant."

"Maidservant?" Connie felt her hackles rise despite herself.

"A lady never travels without her maid." Her voice ripened into a completely believable Scarlett O'Hara. "I declare, Concordia, sometimes you act like you haven't the sense the Good Lord gave a grapefruit."

"You're on thin ice, missy." Her schoolteacher voice was back in full force. Oddly, she also felt quite aroused.

Melinda understood that. Her eyes lit with mischief. "Honestly," she said, drawing out the taunt, "I would have let you go years ago if the blowjobs weren't so good. The pussy is merely adequate."

"Oh, you..." Connie saw a rest stop turn-off up ahead and practically careened onto it. The place was deserted, as she'd hoped. It was also unstaffed, save for a few vending machines. The two washroom buildings were clearly marked Men and Women, presumably because no Gentlemen or Ladies would frequent this God-forsaken latrine. Connie parked out of sight behind the Men's.

No sooner was the engine off than Connie dove into the backseat, right between the headrests. Melinda squealed as Connie tackled her and yanked her skirt up over her hips.

The gorgeous blonde's erection swung up, already fully erect and ready for business. Her baseball-sized testicles rolled. Connie stared between the woman's legs with a feral grin. She licked her lips to wet them, then parted them and descended upon that arrogant prick.

And Melinda's prick was arrogant, thought Connie blearily. She almost resented the pleasure she took from it, even as she enjoyed its gamy-sweet mid-day flavor. Melinda's penis stood in stark contrast to the woman's own sweet and conciliatory nature. It was willful, proud, demanding and utterly thoughtless. It always wanted more.

And there was something about it that always made Connie want to give it more. The way it throbbed and trembled in her mouth excited her. The way it filled her mouth with its succulent, mouth-watering bulk made her wet. She wiggled her tongue under its foreskin and her eyes rolled under their closed lids at the delicious flavor there. She twisted her head as it slid up and down, adding friction to the pressure of her lips. Melinda's meaty knob pulsed and seeped its sweet juice as she tongue-scrubbed its frenulum. Connie moaned in pleasure. Melinda moaned in response.

Her penis was also, fortunately, easy to please. It only took a few minutes of Connie's best efforts to bring her to orgasm. Hearing Melinda's breathing quicken and feeling the increasing excitement in her organ filled Connie with joy and anticipation, as always. She played with those big, roly-poly testicles as she brought her lover to a shuddering, gasping release.

Sperm filled her mouth in hot, forceful spurts. Ecstasy followed.

Ohhhh, thought Connie as the Seahag Fever rolled over her in waves of euphoric anti-gravity. Her body and psyche felt giddily lighter-than-air. I hope I never get used to this.

She sucked and pumped on Melinda's big post until it had no more creamy cinnamon nougat to give her. She swallowed and licked her lips with a moan of pleasure.

She pushed an unresisting Melinda down onto the seat with every intention of mounting her. She'd softened that monster a little, but it was still firm enough to properly spear her. Once it was in her pussy, she knew it would quickly regain all its ferocity and then some.

That was when she heard the other vehicle roll up behind them. She looked out the DeSoto's rear window. It was a West Virginia State trooper.

Oh... shit, she thought.

~~~

For a moment, Connie froze. Then, she promptly ducked her head down out of sight with a yelp.

"Police!" she gasped at Melinda. "Cover up!"

Her partner's penis dropped like a sniped soldier on a battlefield. With admirable speed, Melinda flipped down her skirt and slip, and her fallen member deflated into invisibility under them. Then, to Connie's mystification, she pulled off one of her earrings and threw it onto the DeSoto's floor.

Connie heard the clunk of a car door closing and the crunch of boots on gravel approaching. There was no time to wiggle back into the front seat. Instead, she plunked next to Melinda with a foot of space between them, like they were sitting at a high school sock hop waiting for a boy to ask them to dance. Melinda's hand darted over and gave hers a quick reassuring squeeze before retracting back into her lap.

A shadow loomed over the window on Connie's side. The trooper was in his late twenties, good-looking and terrifyingly authoritarian. He was wearing an immaculate dark green long-sleeved uniform with riding jodhpurs, an olive drab Smokey Bear hat and tall black boots. He had a lantern jaw and dark sunglasses. He rapped on the glass with a broad-knuckled fist.

"Roll down this window." He had an extremely no-nonsense tone and attitude. Connie hurriedly complied. "You mind telling me what you all are doing parked back here?"

Melinda leaned forward. In a completely unruffled voice, she answered, "We're looking for my earring."

She was using her rich, Southern Belle voice again. His head swiveled to look at her as it registered.

"Come again?"

Melinda tapped her earlobe. "About a mile back I noticed one of my earrings was missing. I had Concordia pull over so we could look for it."

Oh, you clever girl, thought Connie.

"So... she's your driver?"

"Driver-slash-maidservant, yes," Melinda replied blandly.

Grrr, thought Connie.

The trooper gave the vehicle a long hard look, up and down. "This your car?"

"Hardly," Melinda said with a tinkling laugh. "It's Concordia's. Ordinarily she'd be driving me about in the Rolls, but it's in the shop."

The man stepped back from the door. The black lenses of his sunglasses swung to rest on Connie. "In that case, I'm going to need to see some identification."

"Yes sir." Connie despised the way the subservient tone automatically popped out of her: Yassuh. The fact that it came from nothing but pure self-preservation made it no better. She knew his type. Using any other tone would be disastrous.

She opened the door and sidled past the trooper to the front door. She leaned in and retrieved her purse. She handed the man her driver's license, holding it at arm's length so she would remain as physically distant from him as possible.

He took it, examined it, but then didn't immediately hand it back. He held on to it and his sunglasses swung back up to her.

Uh-oh, thought Connie.

"It says here your residence is in Philadelphia."

"Yes sir, that's right sir."

"My family has property there," said Melinda in a petulant voice from the back seat. "I'm a co-ed at Temple. Concordia drives me to and from classes, cooks and keeps house. Is this going to take much longer? I'd like to be in Roanoke by supper."

"Well, if you don't mind me asking," the trooper said with deceptive mildness, "what are you all doing on a West Virginia highway?"

Melinda sniffed. "Your guess is as good as mine. I got a phone call this morning saying we were having an emergency family meeting at the old plantation home, and that I was to drop everything and come. Nobody seems to know anything." She shrugged with elaborate disdain.

"So, you're from Virginia... but you go to school in Philadelphia?"

He's asking too many questions, Connie mind blazed with anxiety. He's not buying it.

"That's where I won my scholarship," Melinda said with another shrug. "Believe me, I would have preferred to go to Richmond."

"Please don't take this the wrong way," said the trooper, "but do you by any chance have any student identification?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Melinda with a degree of vexation that Connie knew no colored person would ever dare use with an officer of the law. She produced a student ID card and handed it to him.

He examined it. Connie saw his eyebrows rise behind his sunglasses. "Law school?"

"What can I say?" Melinda said airily, with a flirtatious smile. "More than just a pretty face."

The trooper chuckled and handed it back to her. She took it, and the trooper suddenly leaned in the open door and seized Melinda's sporran from where it lay on the seat beside her.

Connie's heart leapt into her throat.

"And what's this?" he asked, with a deeper and more sinister chuckle. He held the sporran up by its waist belt. "Scholarship student? Hag-bred, more like." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I really do not appreciate being lied to."

Oh shit... we're dead...

Melinda stepped out of the car. She was holding her law text. "The two aren't mutually exclusive," she said with a calmness that Connie found surreal. "I can prove it. Look."

She tossed him the text book. Instinctively, he dropped the sporran to catch it with both hands. In that instant, Melinda lunged forward and snatched his pistol out of its burgundy Sam Browne holster.

It happened so fast, the blonde woman seemed to blur with speed. One second, she was arm's length from the trooper and less than a second later she had his pistol in his face.

It was a Colt 1911 semi-auto, a standard sidearm Connie had seen many times when she worked at Carlisle barracks. When Melinda pulled back the striking hammer, the click sounded almost as loud as a gunshot in Connie's stunned ears.

"Get down on your knees," Melinda said in a voice like iron. Connie had to do a double-take. It sounded completely unlike her. It was the voice of a Bonnie Parker, ordering bank customers to hit the floor while her partner, Clyde Barrow, rounded up the cash. It shocked the trooper, too. His mouth dropped open and Connie could tell his eyes were wide indeed behind his shades.

"Don't make me ask twice."

Melinda's voice sent chills down Connie's spine. And it wasn't just her voice. Everything about how she held the gun and her body language said killer.

The trooper knelt.

"Concordia, come here." The tone of absolute command had Connie at her side before she could blink twice. Melinda leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I have no intention of shooting this man and very soon he's going to realize that. Put the handcuffs on him. I have a way out."

This was the voice Connie knew and loved. There was nothing steely about it. Melinda sounded terrified, but determined.

She's bluffing? That was all a show? The performance had been Oscar-worthy -- more convincing than Brando in On the Waterfront -- as the trooper's compliance attested.

Connie felt dizzy with shock and relief. The woman she loved wasn't a psychopath.

Remind me never to play poker against her. If either of us live past today.

She drew a deep breath. Oh dear Lord in heaven, please let her be right.

Connie walked around behind the trooper. His head swiveled to follow her.

Melinda said, "Eyes on me, buttercup."

Her voice was a dagger. It was the voice of a female SS Oberaufseherin, or a Mother Superior of the Spanish Inquisition. His attention snapped back to Melinda and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

Melinda reached out and took the sunglasses off his face. His eyes were very blue, frightened, and reassuringly human. She put the sunglasses on, and Connie couldn't help thinking they looked really good on her, gave her a cool Roman Holiday kind of flair. Then she got a grip and bent to her work. She detached the handcuffs from the trooper's Sam Browne.

"What...?"

Connie grabbed one of his wrists and pulled it behind his back. He yanked it out of her grip in a panic and began turning around.

"You have," said Melinda in that horrifically calm voice, "only one chance of surviving this little encounter. Resistance is not it. Let her cuff you, or I will kill you."

The trooper froze. Connie grabbed his wrist again, and this time he let her pull it behind him and put on the handcuffs. He let out a despairing kind of grunt as they clicked in place.

Melinda grabbed his campaign hat by its wide brim and yanked it down over his eyes. He squawked and began struggling. Instinctively, Connie knelt on his calves, pinning him down.

"No sudden movements," said Melinda. Connie watched as she put the gun down on the gravel beside her and started undoing her dress. She pulled it off over her head along with her slip and her penis swung up, impossibly stiff once again.

Connie opened her mouth to say how can you possibly have an erection at a time like this, or possibly what in God's name are you doing, but then shut it so hard her teeth clicked.

Right before Connie's disbelieving eyes, Melinda -- now naked but her sunglasses and shoes -- grasped her penis with both hands. She began stroking it.

"What's your name, trooper?" she asked in a tight voice.

"McCready," he answered unsteadily. "Armbruster McCree-"

Melinda let out a high-pitched little grunt that Connie recognized. She watched Melinda ejaculate directly into McCready's open mouth, all over his face, and the front of his immaculate forest-green uniform.

McCready gulped and spluttered. "What? Wha...?"

He suddenly grew very still. Connie knew what was happening. The Seahag Fever was kicking in. Melinda's stuff was always fast-acting. He licked his lips, gathering up more of Melinda's sperm. He swallowed again. He drew a deep breath and Connie could see the tension exiting his shoulders and his back. His whole body seemed to sag a little bit.

"What," he asked quietly, "is this?"

"Keep your mouth open," said Melinda. "There's seconds."

"What? What does-"

"Ooh!"

Melinda came again. Trooper McCready's mouth was re-inundated with thick, delicious nut-pudding. Connie felt an insane surge of glee at the sight. Yeah, take that, cracker!

"Gark!" He spluttered again, gulping down instinctively. Connie knew Melinda's stuff was too tasty to do otherwise.

Melinda came big, like she always did. McCready's mouth was wide open with shock and kept presenting a perfect target. He reflexively swallowed all she gave him. Connie didn't think he was even aware he was doing it. By the end of Melinda's orgasm, he was swaying on his knees. Connie had to steady him.

"Okay," grunted Melinda. "Thirds."

"Unh..."

His eyes were closed and his mouth wide open. Melinda moved closer and held her cock was almost touching his extended tongue. She fired at point-blank range.

Almost every spurt went down Trooper McCready's hatch that time.

"That's not liquor," he said thickly. He couldn't stop swallowing. He kept shaking his head as though he were trying to rid himself of the effects, but Connie knew it was futile. "That's... amazing. What are you giving me?"

Melinda reached down and pulled his hat off, letting the man see again.

"Oh. God," he said hoarsely, staring wide-eyed at Melinda's naked body, especially the massive cock swaying scant inches from his nose. Sperm oozed from it. Connie knew he could smell it; the sweet aroma of it calmed her even from her position behind him. She knew he would match it to the taste in his mouth. "Oh my God. That's your cum?"

There was no hint of his previous overbearing tone. He sounded stunned and stoned out of his gourd.

"Bingo." Melinda put on his hat with a flourish and then wiped the snout of her cock across his face. He licked it by reflex. She held still, and he kept licking, right on her knob. Connie drew a shocked breath. Melinda squeezed her prick with both hands and smiled at McCready's moan as more jism chugged into his mouth.

Connie tried to make sense of her feelings. She was still flying high on Melinda's sperm herself, which thankfully muted what would otherwise be a case of absolute mortal terror. Under that, however, she began feeling something she never dreamed she'd feel in a situation like this: arousal.

It was crazy, irresponsible and completely inappropriate to her situation. But it was also unmistakable. She was excited in a way she'd never experienced. It was what she imagined surfing or skydiving must feel like: wild exhilaration with certain doom but a single misstep away. And the nearness of that doom fed her excitement. She felt like giggling like a maniac.

"Suck it now." Melinda was addressing the trooper. "Open up and suck it. There's fourths."

Connie's shock and arousal ran white-hot as the trooper did just that. He took Melinda into his mouth with a deep and despairing groan.

Melinda ran her hands through his crew-cut blonde hair and caressed the nape of his neck.

"That's it," she murmured. "Use your tongue. Go back and forth. Make me come, honey."

The man groaned and slobbered and said garbled things around Melinda's mighty spike. She gripped the sides of his head and pulled him to and fro. The man didn't resist or even protest, merely groaned and slurped louder.

Connie felt a strange sense of kinship with him then. She knew what he was feeling. She knew what it felt like to be drunk on Melinda's cum, overwhelmed by the succulence of her meaty morsel and unwilling to let it out of her mouth. Connie caressed the whorls of his ears without realizing she was doing it.

"Oh, good boy," Melinda gasped. "Good boy..."

She unloaded in his mouth with another of those sweet little grunts.

He was still sucking when Melinda panted, "Connie, get off his legs. He can't be comfortable kneeling on that gravel. We'll get his clothes off for the fifths."

~~~

They couldn't take his uniform top off because of the handcuffs, so they just unbuttoned it and left it wide open, exposing a very well-muscled chest and belly. They were able to remove his trousers, boots and underwear. His erection leapt out with a spray of pre-cum as Connie pulled down his plain blue boxers. He had a big cock for a white man, not as huge as Melinda's, but certainly on par with Marvin and other men Connie had known. He was uncircumcised with a fetchingly glossy head. Melinda opened the back door of his cruiser, and, naked from the waist down, he sat facing the outdoors with his feet on the ground. His hands were still locked behind his back, but he no longer seemed to mind.

The change in his demeanor was extraordinary. There was no longer any terror, stress or even tension in him. His operating mode now seemed to be one of blissful and befuddled bemusement. Connie was thankful for that.

Melinda stood between his widespread knees and let him continue sucking her cock. There were fifths, as promised, and even sixths, sevenths and eighths. She made him suck her balls and eat her pussy. By the ninth course, Melinda was pumping the full length of her cock in and out of his mouth and tears were streaming down his face. He was taking it just as well as Connie ever did. She felt another twinge of that dark, forbidden excitement.

Connie lifted her skirt and put a hand in her panties. She rubbed herself as she watched.

Ooh yeah. Suck it, copper, suck it... ooh!

A potent little wave-burst of an orgasm popped out of nowhere inside her. Her legs trembled.

The man's eyes were dazed and glassy with joy when Melinda finally extracted her cock from his mouth.

She kissed his spermy, glistening lips and then pushed him down on his back on the seat. She lay on top of him and sucked each of his nipples. He groaned loudly, unselfconsciously. She licked her way down his belly until she was kneeling between his legs, where she dove onto his cock without hesitation.

Unexpected arousal filled Connie again, and even more of it this time. It took her to a still higher plane of excitement. Her knees felt shaky. Melinda was the best carpet-muncher Connie had ever met, and the dickgirl was clearly just as proficient with men. She was able to swallow every inch of McCready's big rod from the tip of his glans to the wattles of his sac. She made it all disappear and reappear like a magic trick. The sight made Connie moan.

The man groaned and writhed under Melinda's pumping head. His voice rose to an orgasmic bellow as he came in her mouth. Connie heard both ecstasy and incredulity in it. She remembered when she first had sex under the full influence of Seahag Fever. It enhanced her orgasms, made them more powerful and plentiful. It was not something one forgot. Melinda swallowed his cum with a pleased coo.

She kept sucking and McCready came again minutes later. His gasps and grunts were filled with disbelief. When Melinda climbed up on top of him and speared his still-rigid post up her vagina, a note of gratitude began to manifest. Connie moved to stand in the doorway and watched from up close.

Melinda rode him, and her own moans mingled with his. Her peachy thighs shuddered as she jerked off all over his torso. Jets of her cum reached as high as his face. He opened his mouth and tried to catch them on his tongue.

Connie couldn't hold back any longer. She knelt down behind Melinda and began licking her asshole as the blonde woman's hips rose and fell. Her lover's buttocks twitched at the contact. Connie squeezed them and spread them. She probed deeper with her tongue.

Melinda reached back and pushed her head down. "Lick his balls," she whispered over her shoulder.

Connie whimpered in consternation. She didn't want to do sexual favors for this man. Scant minutes ago, he was fixing to throw both of them in jail or possibly worse. But Melinda's hand on her head was insistent; that, plus the Seahag Fever, overruled her. She let Melinda direct her head down between his legs. With an internal sigh, she lapped at his finely golden-haired testicles. He groaned and thrust up into Melinda, making his sac slap her tongue.

Connie drew a shaky breath. His pleasure excited her. She didn't like to admit it, but the man's Seahag high was interacting with her own. She could feel it. As she licked and sucked on the white man's big hairy balls, his grunts and moans sent shivers of ecstasy through her. She'd only ever felt that kind of connection with Marvin before Melinda arrived in her life.

When his balls pulled up tight to his trunk, she knew he was about to come. She found herself tongue-lashing them even harder. When he began to come inside Melinda, she was truly shocked to find herself licking his asshole to give his orgasm a little extra kick. It worked. The man howled like he was falling off a cliff. It sent a super-bright climax skyrocketing through Connie without her so much as breathing on herself. She moaned and pressed her lips to his anus with her tongue buried deep inside. It was gross and nasty and made her orgasm magical.

His hips rose with each spurt up into her lover. She maintained their tongue-in-ass linkage throughout his release. She withdrew only when his sperm began leaking out around his column, so she could lick it up. His cream was salty and bittersweet and delicious. It was completely unlike Melinda's creamy candy flavor, and the contrast pleased her.

Connie felt Melinda's hand on her head again, pushing her away. She sat back on her haunches and watched as Melinda dismounted. Her lover rolled McCready over onto his stomach with his knees in the dirt. Melinda bent down and took a turn rimming him as well.

Connie masturbated as she watched. Melinda jerked off as her face worked away between McCready's cheeks. The man's buns were well-toned, she noted, and lightly fuzzed with fine, downy hairs.

Connie helped Melinda along by thumbing her clitoris from behind and giving her a reach-around. Together they made her ejaculate into her palm.

Connie's lips parted in a silent 'O' of wonder as Melinda rubbed her sperm on McCready's asshole. His whole body jerked at the contact. She smeared her cream in circles on his button, and then carefully inserted her index finger.

For the first time, the man looked like he might revolt. He bawled in stoned protest and the muscles in his arms and shoulders bulged as he strained against the handcuffs. His chest rose up off the seat.

Melinda slid her slippery finger in and out and grasped the man's dick with her free hand. She masturbated him. He froze, and panted hoarsely in place.

Connie noted that while McCready was verbally objecting, his cock was certainly on board. It had grown even bigger and harder in Melinda's fist and clear juice leaked steadily from it. It throbbed away like mad..

Moments later, the rest of him caught up. Goose bumps rose up all over his skin. With a deep, despairing groan, he collapsed face-first onto the cruiser's back seat and spurted cum into the door well. He moaned and shuddered.

"That's it," breathed Melinda. "That's a good boy."

The man twitched and bucked. Each spurt wrenched a deeply-felt 'ungh' out of him. Connie reckoned he was having the orgasm of his life. A finger in the ass tended to give men the most powerful orgasms, she knew, although they were always the last ones to admit it.

Melinda's penis getting ready to come again as well; Connie could feel it rearing up in her grasp. She stroked slowly and steadily, the way she knew the dickgirl liked. When Melinda began to shoot, Connie made sure to aim it between McCready's cheeks.

Melinda put more fingers into the man, forcing more of her sperm up his passage. He let out another muffled, garbled groan into the seat cover. His body relaxed into total acceptance.

Melinda turned her head and gave Connie a quick kiss.

"Get my sporran," she whispered. "And take your clothes off."

Connie was already back with Melinda's bag before she could think to ask why she obeyed so quickly. For some reason, it just seemed correct to defer to Melinda's judgment in this situation. She clearly had a clue and Connie didn't.

"Thank you," said Melinda. She unhanded McCready's penis and to Connie's surprise, pulled a handful of condoms from her sporran.

"Quickly, honey," she said in a low voice. "Get naked and get under him. We'll be out of here soon."

Again, Melinda's absolute assurance had Connie doing as she was told before she could think to question her. She stripped and laid her folded clothes on the roof of the cruiser.

"Let's get you ready," said Melinda. She squeezed her own cock and covered her fingers with the resultant flow of sperm. Then she rubbed Connie's vagina and inserted her slimy fingers.

"Ahh." Connie's back arched as the tingly power of her partner's cum filled her. Her anxiety disappeared.

I am standing naked as a jaybird in a public rest area off a fucking West Virginia highway, she thought distantly. And I feel... amazing.

It was the truth. It was impossible, but she'd never felt more confident and in control in her life. She could feel the fresh, outdoorsy air on every inch of her body and she felt like whooping in triumph.

"There you go," Melinda said softly. "Now go get 'em, tigress."

There was no arguing with this feeling. Connie walked around the car, opened the far rear door and climbed in facing McCready. His eyes were dazed and his jaws were slack and foamy with sperm.

She kissed him. She had no idea why she did it, but her autopilot seemed to be just as irresistible as Melinda's this afternoon. She tasted dickgirl cum. It seemed to pack an especial wallop delivered from his mouth; Connie couldn't help moaning and leaning into the kiss. An all-too-familiar erotic pliancy spread over her.

He kissed her back with an astonishing blend of passion and tenderness. It was the last thing she expected. She melted into it. Dimly, she was aware of her body wriggling into place underneath his. He sucked her nipples as they passed in front of his face and it felt so good it made her gasp. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his brow.

Behind them, she saw Melinda tearing open a condom packet with her teeth and then rolling the rubber down McCready's long, thick shaft. Connie spread her legs and shifted down.

Melinda directed his prick between her legs. She was very wet, and so receptive she was practically boneless. She felt his latex-covered glans smoosh into her folds and then find her entrance. The penetration was effortless and breathtaking.

"Oh," they both said as he slid into her.

"That's it," said Melinda. Over McCready's shoulder, Connie could see her lover had three fingers pumping the man's ass. They glistened with her sperm. "In we go."

Oh yes, thought Connie as she raised her hips and buried McCready to the balls. All the way in, yes.

He began thrusting, and Connie's eyes rolled up into her head.

"Ooh!"

He wasn't a gifted lover, but he could certainly pound away at an impressive pace.

'A' for effort, Connie thought crazily in a bizarre callback to her school-teaching days. Ooh yes.

She was easily able to syncopate around his simple double-time march tempo. She squeezed and pumped him with her cunt. She quickly rose to another blinding orgasm and he was right there with her. She could feel the reservoir of his condom ballooning in her depths. He grunted harshly as he came, and Connie panted and whimpered as she did the same.

He then kissed her as he continued to plow her. He didn't lose an ounce of his rigidity. She kissed him back and wrapped her arms and legs around him. His kisses were sweet with Melinda's leavings and Connie was once again shocked at the depth and intimacy of their connection.

She had nothing in common with this man. Before today, she would have regarded him as a natural enemy. He and his ilk had the power (and inclination) to destroy her life and the lives of other colored people. In the past, he had probably done so, many times. But here and now, in the saddle, he was an energetic and unselfish partner. He was giving it to her like a champion. He was aware of her needs and responsive to them. He held nothing back. It made her give back tenfold. It was remarkable. She came again and so did he, moaning into each other's mouths.

Then suddenly his back arched and he let out a great, wordless exclamation. At first, Connie didn't know what was happening. Then, she saw what Melinda was doing. She had mounted him.

For a few blinkered moments, Connie literally could not believe what she was seeing. Her lover was behind him and pushing that broad pole of hers up his ass.

"Oh," he said in a voice full of uncomprehending joy.

Melinda didn't hesitate. No sooner had she pushed in all the way to her balls then she began shafting him with a rhythm that was both swifter and more skillful than his own.

"There we go," she said again, this time in a jubilant hiss.

For a few heartbeats his whole body locked in place. Then, just like before, it sagged in submission.

Connie's autopilot came to life again. She pulled his head down and whispered in his ear.

"Keep fucking me, baby. Keep giving me that good dick."

With a ragged groan, his hips resumed their steady tattoo. Not only was he moving his penis inside Connie, but also sluicing his ass back and forth on Melinda's post.

He came again, astoundingly quickly, and to her renewed shock, Connie came with him. Then Melinda came inside him.

Connie could only imagine what that might feel like for a man. Melinda had taken Connie anally, but that was different; Connie had done that kind of thing before, many times. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the first time anyone had ever fucked this West Virgina state trooper in the butt. As she watched, the fountains of mind-expanding ambrosia flooding his rectal canal turned his eyes into those of a Renaissance saint in a painting. He looked like he was having visions of paradise.

Melinda rode him. She gripped his cuffed forearms like reins and used them like a jockey.

Harsh grunts and sweet feminine moans filled the tight space of the cruiser's cabin. His big balls slapped Connie's anus and she could hear Melinda's even bigger nuts slapping his.

Then Connie heard a loud click. McCready's arms were suddenly free and wrapping around her. He hugged her close and kissed her with greater fervor. Behind him, Melinda was tossing the unlocked handcuffs away. She gripped his narrow hips and didn't miss a stroke up his backside.

What? She uncuffed him? What?

Once again, his passion transferred directly to her. She found herself holding him and humping him back just as hard.

"Oh!"

He came again with a strangled kind of shout. This time, he collapsed on top of her. His penis didn't soften inside her, but it did finally grow a little rubbery in the aftermath.

Trooper McCready had apparently had enough. He let out a deep, heartfelt sigh as Melinda slowly pulled her dick out of his thoroughly deflowered ass.

Melinda caught Connie's eye and jerked her head towards her car. Time to go.

Connie gingerly squirmed out from underneath him. She winced as his dick pulled free of her vagina. He mumbled something, but obligingly lifted to let her go. No sooner was she clear of him than he sprawled face down with a contented wheeze.

Connie gathered up her clothes and walked around to Melinda. She glanced down at the man. His asshole was impossibly dilated and choked with her lover's sweet-smelling cream.

Melinda patted him on the ass. "How are we feeling, Trooper McCready?"

He didn't open his eyes. "Call me Armbruster. Or just Brewster. That's what my friends call me. And I've never been better."

Melinda put a finger in his ass and toyed with the sperm leaking out of him.

"Brewster... you know I never had any intention of hurting you, right?"

"That's kind of obvious now." He yawned. An eye cracked open and gave her a reproachful look. "You did give me a pretty bad scare. You were very convincing."

"I kind of had to be. You'd have hauled us off to jail, otherwise."

He gave an odd little half-shrug and cleared his throat. "For the record... it's very dangerous, waving a loaded gun in someone's face. Accidents can happen."

"Point taken, and I apologize. To be fair, though, my finger wasn't even on the trigger."

He cleared his throat. "Are all dickgirls... like this?"

"Like what?"

"With jism that makes you feel... this way."

"Oh, that. Yes. Why do you think sausage joints are so popular?"

"Are you telling me all the guys who go to sausage joints get fucked by dickgirls?"

Melinda brayed laughter. "Oh, heavens, no. They just drink our cum, mixed with beer or whatever. They call it Seahag punch. It's how we make most of our money."

"They don't suck you off either?"

"Almost never, honey."

"So... why did you do all that with me?" There was a distinctly plaintive note in his voice.

"Well, I had a feeling about you, Brewster. I thought you might like it. Was I wrong?"

A distinct sense of the surreal crept over Connie. This conversation was like something out of Ray Bradbury. If Bradbury was a dickgirl freak.

And he very well might be, Connie thought. It would explain a lot.

"Well... yeah, I did. Hard to deny it at this point, I guess." He rubbed his face. "So what happens now?"

"My friend and I wish you all the best and go on our merry way."

Connie held her breath.

The trooper harrumphed.

"I want to know that... you understand you can't go around pulling guns on officers of the law. That could've gone horribly wrong."

And on that, we completely agree, thought Connie.

"It's not something I do for kicks, Brewster. And rest assured, I have no intention of doing it again."

McCready drew a deep breath. "Okay. You can go. On one condition."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to know more about sausage joints. I'm from Florida and I'm not familiar with them."

"Not a problem."

Melinda reached into her sporran and pulled out a small booklet with a cheap gray cardstock cover. She handed it to him.

He examined it. "Official Travel and Event Guide of The American Sausage-Makers Association?" he said, reading the title.

"Everything you need to know about sausage joints is right in there," said Melinda. "It's divided by state. There's plenty in West Virginia."

He flipped through it. "Thanks." He yawned. "I think I'll take a nap now."

Melinda bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "It was nice meeting you, Brewster."

"And you... eventually. What was your name again?"

Melinda smiled. "Mellie Massive. That's how you'll know me on the circuit."

He shook his head and grinned. "Massive. Wow. You got that right."

"You have a great day, now."

He laughed. It was odd how natural it sounded coming out of him, and how boyish it made him sound. "Oh it's already a great day, Mellie."

Melinda collected her things and Connie tried not to sprint for the DeSoto.

"Wait up," Melinda said. She looked at Connie seriously. "Did any of his cum get inside you?"

"Um." Connie probed about inside herself and then checked her fingers. She was very wet, but it was all her own.

"Nope. All clear."

"Good. Let's go."

Connie was still half-naked when she slid behind the wheel. She drove and dressed at the same time as they made their getaway.

~~~

There was a long and (on Connie's part) rather dumbfounded silence.

"Well, that worked out well," said Melinda eventually, in a chipper tone.

Connie nearly veered off the highway.

"Well? Are you insane?"

"Well, we're here, aren't we? Free and clear."

"For now," said Connie darkly. "But if that trooper ever sees us again..."

"He'll most likely want another romp," said Melinda. "But that's not a problem. We just give him one."

"You terrified that man, Melinda. And then you fucked him in the ass. Men don't forgive that. Especially policemen."

"He came around eventually. I agree, getting cornholed isn't something men brag about, but believe me, we gave him a treasured memory today."

"He may not feel the same way after he's had a couple days to stew about it."

"Have you ever read The Art of War by Sun Tzu?" asked Melinda.

"Yes I have, and don't change the subject," Connie said crossly.

"I'm not," said Melinda. "'A defeated foe may rise again. A reconciled one is vanquished forever.' That's what we did today. You were amazing."

Connie drew a deep breath and let it out. "I really, really hope, for both our sakes, that you're right."

Melinda reached forward and squeezed her shoulder. Wisely, she said nothing else.

~~~

Part 2: The Four Leaf Sausage Extravaganza

They arrived at the Four Leaf Tavern at twenty minutes after nine that night. It was a free-standing block of a building in a largely industrial area by the Bluefield rail yards. There were no lights on out front, no name, and the door was boarded up.

"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Connie. There was nothing to indicate the place was open or even occupied.

Melinda nodded. "The entrance is 'round the back."

Connie drove around to the rear and was relieved to see a lot with over a dozen cars parked there. There was a hanging bar sign with four birch leaves arranged around the name. The windows were all frosted, but there was light coming through.

They parked, and Melinda retrieved her duffel bag from the trunk. Connie could hear muffled bluegrass music being played at volume leaking from the building. She straightened her back and followed Melinda to the door.

Here we go, she thought. Next stop in a day of momentous firsts.

Her first thought upon entering was that it was like Ladies' Night at the officer's club at Carlisle Barracks. The dance floor was half the size and there was a jukebox instead of a live band, but it had the same low light, the same black-and-white checkerboard floor, and there were only women present. An overhead mirror ball rotated on a slow-turning ceiling fan, casting a moving starscape on every surface. It gave the tawdry little place an enchanted atmosphere.

Also, the place was noisy. The jukebox blared Flatt and Scruggs and the small crowd of women were laughing and chattering just as loudly. They were all white, which was a little concerning, but the ambiance was relaxed and festive.

There was a short, slight brunette woman in her fifties standing at the bouncer's station just inside the doors with a small table and a cashbox. She was holding a wooden baseball bat in a businesslike manner.

"Hello Eileen," said Melinda pleasantly.

"Well hey there Mellie." The woman's face lit up with a pretty smile. It transformed her whole appearance, made her look sweet and pixielike. She set the bat aside, much to Connie's relief, and held out her arms. Melinda embraced her and gave her one of those casually familiar kisses that always startled Connie.

Eileen returned the kiss in an entirely unruffled fashion and checked her watch. "Cuttin' it a little fine tonight, honey."

"Getting here was adventurous," said Melinda.

"Well, tell me about it later. We need to get the punch bowl going." She had a southern West Virginian accent that was thick and wholesome as oatmeal. She looked at Concordia. "Who's this?"

Melinda gestured to Connie. "My lady friend Concordia. She'll be helping me out tonight. Connie, this Eileen Plimpton, she owns the place."

"Is she a dickgirl too?" Eileen asked dubiously. "I only booked the one."

Half steps never get you anywhere, thought Connie and stepped forward. She stuck out her hand. "You can call me Connie, Eileen, and no, I'm not emergent. I'm just assisting Mellie tonight as a favor."

The woman shook her hand readily enough and didn't seem to care about having a negro on the premises. For that, Connie was grateful.

"Ya'll remember the way to the kitchen, Mellie?" Eileen asked Melinda, who nodded. "Well, have at it. Need anything, just holler."

"Thank you," said Melinda, and Connie quickly added a "Thanks," of her own. Then Melinda took her by the hand and led her through a door next to the bar.

The place was split between a bar area with booths and tables and an open dance area with a small foot-high stage. It was like a café where they played folk music; the stage looked barely big enough for one person with a guitar to perform.

Then they were into the small diner kitchen area. Connie shut the door and muted the sweet cacophony of banjos and steel-stringed guitars.

Connie looked around. She couldn't fault the place for cleanliness; every surface shone. There were three large glass punch bowls molded with frolicking dolphins sitting on the steel food-prep counter.

Melinda went straight to the restaurant-size refrigerator and hauled out a case of twenty-four twelve-ounce bottles of Nehi Root Beer. She placed it next to the punch bowls with a grunt. She got a couple bottle-openers from a drawer and tossed one to Connie.

"Let's get cracking," she said. She pulled her dress off over her head and just like that, was naked again. "Kiss me."

Connie chuckled. "Yes'm, miz Melinda."

"Concordia, behave," she said in her Scarlett O'Hara voice, and Connie swooped down upon her and seized her head in her hands. She kissed her forcefully. Melinda yielded to her.

The contrast never failed to excite Connie. Melinda's mouth and body would melt into hers while her penis shoved at her aggressively. She would submit while pressing her own offensive. It was both enraging and delightful. Connie squeezed Melinda's ass and could feel the woman's erection throbbing at the liberty she was taking.

It wants in, she thought dreamily. It's hard so it can penetrate me. And I want it to.

Melinda broke the kiss. "Okay," she said breathlessly. "I'm ready. Hold the bowl in place."

Connie picked up one of the punch bowls and positioned it in front of and slightly below Melinda's spear. She angled it to give her lover the widest possible target.

Melinda masturbated. Within seconds, she was ejaculating great streams of her sweet-smelling goo into the bowl. When the streams began to taper, Connie held the bowl closer so as not to miss any.

When Melinda was done shooting, Connie set down the punch bowl. Then she knelt and sucked her lover's dripping cock.

"Careful," Melinda gasped. "Save some for the customers."

Connie savored the rush of Vitamin J and licked her lips. "Pretty sure there's lots more where that came from," she said throatily.

"And you'd be right," chuckled Melinda, sounding slightly out-of-breath. "But we need to get this show on the road."

"Fine," said Connie with a sulky sigh. She rose to her feet and picked up the second punch bowl.

Melinda came three times into each bowl. The businesslike, impersonal way in which she repeatedly brought herself to orgasm gave Connie a weird frisson of arousal. Her grunts of release weren't passionate, merely involuntary. There was something pleasingly perverted about it. The close proximity of her naked body just made things sexier.

Once there was a dinnerplate-sized pool of sperm in each bowl, the two women began opening the bottles of Nehi and pouring them in to provide the mix.

"Don't pour too quickly," murmured Melinda. "We don't want things to bubble over."

"Think it's a little late for that," said Connie with a smirk. Melinda laughed.

They stirred the bowls with their ladles until the sperm was fully blended. Melinda took a sip from each, smacked her lips and nodded.

"It's ready. Call the bartender."

Connie stuck her head out the door and did so. The bartender was a surprisingly attractive young redhead in a Donna Reed dress. Connie wondered if she was wearing it ironically, or if was just something she liked to wear.

The girl took one bowl and the second she stepped through the door carrying it, a huge cheer went up from the ladies present.

Melinda smiled at Connie. "This is when things get busy."

Within ten minutes, the bartender returned. The customers had already drunk the first bowl dry. She took a full one, and Connie and Melinda set to refilling the empty one. Ten minutes later, the redhead was back. She was flushed and beaming; Connie could tell she'd been sampling the merchandise. She took out another brimming punch bowl and ten minutes later was back for more.

It was an efficient little assembly line. Within half an hour, they'd gone through a second case of root beer and Connie had lost track of how many times they'd restocked. The customers were really guzzling the punch. Connie stretched. It was odd to think of all those women out there consuming so much of Melinda's sperm.

Something occurred to her. "How much do they charge per glass?" she asked Melinda curiously.

Her lover shrugged. "Around here? Maybe sixty cents."

Connie whistled. That was more than a beer in most bars. "And what's your cut of that?"

"Fifty percent. It's fair." She nodded toward the rows of empty Nehi bottles. "They provide the mixer. Some girls travel around with sacks of powdered fruit cocktail mix so they can negotiate a better percentage. I say, let everybody make their money. There's plenty to go around."

Connie checked her watch. It was after ten. "So, is this all we're doing tonight? Providing Seahag punch?"

"Oh no. There's a floor show too. But Eileen likes to makes sure the crowd's good and jayed-up before that begins. Technically there's a three-drink minimum, but everybody always goes way over that."

"No kidding," said Connie as their decidedly merry bartender lurched back in for another bowlful.

"You always make the best punch, Mellie," the redhead said. She watched hungrily as Melinda masturbated into an emptied bowl. "And you are the most beautiful sausage gal I ever saw."

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the dickgirls, Chloe," said Melinda with a smile.

Connie glanced at her lover. Her manner was flirtatious and inviting. Melinda maintained eye contact with Chloe as she ejaculated.

"I mean it," the young woman said softly. Connie had to admit, the girl looked smitten.

"Will I see you during the show?" Melinda asked, panting a little.

She nodded vigorously. "You betcha." She picked up a full punch bowl.

"Make sure to tip," said Melinda. "No freebies for staff."

The girl smiled. "Happy to." She backed into the door, pushed it open with her bum and vanished back into the bar area.

"Your fans are dedicated," remarked Connie.

Melinda gave her a whimsical smile. "Jealous?"

Connie opened her mouth to vehemently deny it, but then paused.

Am I? Really?

She examined her feelings. She hadn't been jealous in the slightest when she'd watched Melinda coupling with Trooper McCready. But she couldn't really see that as cheating. She and Melinda had been working together to get themselves out of a pickle. Now here was her lover being all come-hither with a girl with whom she would, in all likelihood, soon be having sex.

It didn't sting. Not in the slightest. In fact... it excited her.

Connie was a little astounded. Her feelings for Melinda were protective and possessive. She should have been outraged at the prospect of sharing her like this, but it simply wasn't the case.

Will I feel different when I see her actually doing it with other women?

She'd been trying not to think about that all day.

Just then Eileen stuck her head in the kitchen door.

"Show time, Mellie. Fifteen minutes."

Connie gulped. Guess we'll find out.

~~~

There was a narrow and very short service corridor leading from the kitchen to the right of the stage. It ended in an open doorway hung with a sheet. The passage was starkly lit by a single bare overhead bulb and apparently doubled as the Four Leaf's backstage dressing area. There was a mirror affixed to the wall with electrical tape.

Connie became aware that there was a great deal of energy coming from the other side of that sheet. The place was humming with excitement. She'd only ever felt anything like it at R&B concerts when big-name talent was playing. It was very raw and primal. She could smell it, too, she realized. There was definitely a roomful of aroused women out there.

"Okay," said Melinda. "Help me get ready."

"How?"

Melinda was still naked. Connie had offered her coat as a bathrobe, but the blonde had declined. Now, as Connie watched, her penis rose up yet again. Melinda put a hand on Connie's shoulder and pressed down.

"Seriously?" asked Connie as she sank to her knees. She thought briefly of how thin that sheet separating them from the Four Leaf's patrons was, but then dismissed it. She was already salivating.

"Usually I have to fluff myself," Melinda said, closing her eyes. Connie got the impression she was gathering focus, concentrating. "This'll be much quicker."

"Fluff?" asked Connie, and began licking her lover's big meaty lollipop.

"You gotta be properly revved up for a show," the blonde replied. She took a shaky breath as Connie's mouth went to work. She caressed the older woman's ears. She sighed. "You gotta be all turned on and ready. That's it, baby."

Connie sucked her cock. She gloried in the feel of it in her mouth. Melinda's breathing deepened.

"That's it," she said again. "When you step out on the stage... you gotta be all there."

Connie could feel her lover's orgasmic energy gathering and rushing to the fore. She sucked harder, eagerly anticipating the delicious explosion to come.

"When I come," said Melinda unsteadily, "don't swallow it. Collect it in your hands. We're going to smear it all over me."

What? Connie thought in confusion. Well if you say so...

Melinda grunted, and Connie could feel the sperm launching up her tube. Regretfully, she pulled it out of her mouth and cupped a hand over its quivering knob. She stroked it hard with her other hand. It pulsed, and hot cream slapped her palm. Her hand quickly overflowed and Melinda's hands were there to take over.

"Rub it on me," gasped Melinda. "All over."

Connie did so, with the odd observation this was like applying suntan lotion. She rubbed it on her lover's belly and breasts. She took a deep breath. She loved touching Melinda's naked body and the sperm tingled on her hands. The smell of it had her nostrils flaring and her pulse accelerating. When Melinda's palms filled, she smeared the cum on herself, and Connie's hands were there to catch the next jets. It was another weird assembly line effort.

When she stopped coming, Melinda panted, "Again."

Connie resumed sucking her. There was lots of cum still leaking and she selfishly gulped all she could. The effect of it - the Vitamin J, as Melinda called it - was already feeling like an old friend.

My, my, this is... very pleasant.

She was able to bring her partner to her peak much faster this time, and once again, the two of them collected the resultant emission and anointed her with it.

She kept stroking and Melinda kept spurting. Soon, Melinda's entire body glistened. Her arms and legs and even her back was coated. The scent made Connie weak with arousal. Under the raw light of the overhead bulb, all that sperm gave Melinda's skin a prismatic shimmer.

"That's enough," Melinda said. "That's good."

Connie looked up at her. Melinda was definitely all there, now. She was practically crackling. The sheer proximity of her was igniting something in Connie. Her cum-covered presence was palpable, superconductive. Connie shivered; her lover's erotic potency and charisma were a little awe-inspiring.

"Oh," said Connie, quite overcome. "I could just... eat you up."

"Good," said Melinda with a grin. "That's what we're going for."

Connie laughed, though her excitement didn't lessen in the slightest.

"Help me with my makeup?" asked Melinda. Connie rose up with alacrity to do so.

The preparations didn't take long. Melinda insisted on only a little mascara to accentuate her eyes and a light application of lipstick. Connie kept on blinking to clear her starry vision and fumbling things. She was almost too high and turned on to be helpful.

Examining their handiwork, Connie had to admit that in Melinda's case, a little went a long way. When she didn't want to attract attention, the dickgirl's long face and full lips lent her a plain and somewhat equine appearance. With just a little makeup, however, she became a blonde bombshell. Moreover, she had the figure to back it up.

Melinda pulled a costume out of her duffel. It consisted of a black tailcoat, a red bowtie, a black top hat and a pair of sparkly red high heels. That was it. There were no bottoms, and the open tailcoat proudly exposed her breasts and her penis. The heels gave her height and authority and made her legs long and curvy.

The transformation was remarkable. She looked like she'd stepped out of the world's most bizarre Vegas chorus line. She was so beautiful she almost looked otherworldly, like an angel or a succubus.

My God. The thought popped into her head out of nowhere. I want her in my life, always.

The sheet covering the doorway got yanked to one side and Eileen's head appeared in the opening.

"All ready back here?" she asked. Then her eyes focused on Melinda. Her mouth dropped. "Oh... my."

"Ready when you are, Eileen," said Melinda with smile and a nod.

"O-okay," the woman stuttered. "I'll put on the Benny Goodman and introduce you." Her eyes gave Melinda another involuntary up-and-down and then her head disappeared.

Melinda gave Connie a satisfied grin. "Like I said. What I was going for."

Connie laughed again. She couldn't help it. She felt giddy.

Within moments the thunder of Gene Krupa's drums shook the timbers of the place as Goodman's recording of Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing) began. Melinda immediately began swaying with the beat. Connie couldn't help nodding along.

"Alright ladies," called out Eileen on the other side of the improvised curtain. "It's time for the Four Leaf Tavern's monthly Sausage Extravaganza! You know what that means?"

"It means dickgirls!" yelled a woman already riding high on Seahag Fever. There was a raucous chorus of agreement.

"It is my indisputable pleasure to introduce the one... the only... the magnificent... Mellie Massive!"

There was a huge round of applause. Melinda turned to Connie and blew her a kiss. Then she squared her shoulders and strode out onto the stage. The applause rose to a roar as she appeared. It was amazing that only twenty-odd women could make so much noise.

Connie peeked through the sheet. The front of the stage was wall-to-wall women. Their shins were right up against the footlights.

Watching them, Connie noticed it was a more attractive crowd than the supposedly straight women at the Carlisle barracks officers' club. The women here were all healthy and above-average in looks. There was nothing but clear complexions and shining eyes on display. There were also a lot of D-cups and startlingly beautiful specimens present. Connie found herself a little flabbergasted.

And why should you be so surprised? A little voice inside scolded her. You of all people should know better than to listen to your prejudices...

Melinda moved right up to the patrons, moving her hips to Krupa's tribal beat. Her erection thrust out in front of her and bounded with every step. She wiggled, and her penis swung in circles.

Hands reached out to her. Melinda didn't move back or tease them at all. She let them touch her. She moved back and forth across the front of the small stage, letting the entire audience squeeze her breasts, caress her belly, grasp and stroke her post. They didn't hesitate to grab her cock, which Connie couldn't help but think a little unusual.

Hands touched her balls, lifted them and even fingered her snatch. They grabbed her ass and touched her legs as she walked past. These women were completely uninhibited.

A bright pink flush lit up Melinda's cheeks. Connie moaned. She wished she was there, out front with the audience, groping her lady.

Melinda let everybody have a good fondle. Then she called out, "Who wants a squirt show?"

A forest of arms shot up along with yells of "Me!" "I do!"

"I'm gonna need some encouragement first," said Melinda, pitching her voice to carry. She took off her top hat and turned it hollow side up. "You all know the score."

The women began dropping dollar bills into it. They did it eagerly, willingly. Some of them practically flung their money in the hat. Melinda went back and forth again, this time collecting money as well as feels.

After one full circuit, she set the hat down behind her. She faced her audience and, standing about two yards from the front row, licked her hands and took hold of her prick. She proceeded to masturbate.

Her movements were deliberate and dramatic. Her expressions of pleasure were also exaggerated, but Connie could tell her responses were real. She could also tell that Melinda loved this. She loved putting on a big sexy performance. She loved the wild energy and attention of the crowd. She loved how nearly out-of-control the entire situation was. Her thighs quivered and her buttocks trembled as she hurtled towards orgasm.

"Here it comes," she gasped. "Get in close, anyone who wants it..."

Connie had never heard Melinda grunt so loudly, nor had she ever seen her come so much or so hard. Her member flung fat ropes of sperm way out over the audience, some wads traveling halfway to the door.

Melinda wagged her cock from side to side. She hosed down the whole crowd. The women, en masse, opened their mouths to catch her spume.

"Get it, bitches," bawled Melinda. "Get all of that cum!"

Connie moaned again as she watched the grand eruption. Without knowing she was doing it, she slowly licked her lips.

~~~

Connie masturbated all the way through Melinda's show. The high-voltage atmosphere of the Four Leaf put a spell on her. She came almost as frequently as Melinda.

Melinda came for her audience four more times during her squirt show. Each time was just as big as the last. Each time the women all strove to catch as much as they could, some with better or worse results. Melinda was very thorough; she made sure everybody got some. Clothes were liberally splattered, but no one minded. Connie guessed everybody knew the deal at a sausage joint. Things got messy.

She saw women wiping the cum off each other's clothes with their bare hands. There was a lot of laughing and licking of fingers. One woman was even down on her hands and knees licking errant jism off the floor. Her friends all thought that was hilarious. A giggly, high-spirited euphoria prevailed. Every few minutes Melinda would take up her hat and another round of enthusiastic tipping would follow.

Then the evening's program moved on to the oral portion. This was announced by Melinda taking off her tailcoat and carefully folding it over a chair. That left her stark naked but for her necktie and heels.

A few women drifted away from the stage; they seemed to know what was coming and didn't want to participate. They didn't leave, but just took seats and watched. Most of the patrons remained standing at the front.

More tips went into Melinda's hat and the women who stayed stageside all began sucking her cock.

From what Connie could see, they were all pretty damn good at it. Most of them made her come very quickly; a few of them made her come in seconds flat. They all avidly swallowed her cum.

Connie wasn't surprised to see one of the cocksuckers was their redheaded bartender. She was, however, genuinely surprised to see Eileen Plimpton there with a mouthful of Mellie-cock. The older woman sucked it with such a profound expression of joy that it made her look decades younger. When Melinda came in her mouth, Eileen's ecstasy was unmistakable.

Melinda was extravagant in her moans and praise of her audience's efforts. They, in turn, tried twice as hard to please her. It was a positive feedback loop of pure love.

Connie realized something then. She was enjoying herself. She was witnessing the wildest and most debauched spectacle imaginable, and found it utterly delightful. These women had won her over. Their enthusiasm for dickgirl cock was shameless and wholehearted. Rather than feeling jealous or cheated-on, Connie had never loved Melinda more than when she watched her share herself with the crowd. She felt proud of her, and proud to know her.

Also, despite her lover's theatrics, Connie knew there was nothing feigned about the pleasure Melinda was receiving from her audience. Or her orgasms. Her voice and her facial expressions may have been pitched to carry to the back row, but the sexual exultation they demonstrated was quite real.

She would come in one mouth, then move to the next. The women would all lean forward with their hands on the stage to put their heads at the right height. During her third trip down the line, one of the women gestured for Melinda to turn around, and she did so. The woman -- Connie saw it was the one who had licked cum off the floor -- buried her face in Melinda's ass.

"Ooh! She's licking my asshole," Melinda announced delightedly to the room. This garnered lots of laughter and applause. The woman also messily slurped Melinda's vagina too, and sucked her balls. When she brought Melinda to orgasm (with a finger up her snatch and a tongue up her butt), the dickgirl whirled around and popped her cock back in the woman's mouth. Melinda nearly drowned her in splooge.

"That's a good bitch," Melinda sighed.

After another turn of tipping, the dickgirl's hat was filled with bills. She dashed over to Connie and lifted the curtain.

"Count this," she hissed, and dumped the money into Connie's startled hands. Half of it fluttered to the floor. Melinda dashed back with her bum cheeks bouncing. She was quick to stick her dick in another pretty woman's mouth.

Connie quickly gathered up the bills and sifted through them. There was a hundred and six dollars there.

She blew out a stunned breath. She looked back onstage, where the suckathon continued. More money was already going into Melinda's magic hat.

Wow, she thought.

"And now it's time for the grand finale," the dickgirl called out.

More women drifted away from the stage at that point. Many of the seated women also took this as their cue to leave, but a few stayed. Only about seven women remained at the foot of the stage, but they looked very excited to be there. Chloe and Eileen were among them. They were all wearing dresses, and Connie soon saw why.

Starting with Eileen, they all turned around, lifted their skirts and bent over.

Connie gasped. None of the women were wearing underwear. The seated women all laughed and applauded. A firing squad of bare asses faced Melinda.

She wasn't fazed at all. She was expecting this. She walked over to stage left, knelt down and entered the woman at the end of the line there.

"Gah..." Connie couldn't hold back her shocked exclamation.

That first woman was redheaded Chloe. She squealed at Melinda's firm penetration. The elevation of the stage put them both at the correct level for entry.

Connie was surprised at how hard Melinda fucked her. She gave her no warm-up whatsoever. She gripped Chloe's hips and the clapping sound of her pelvis hitting Chloe's ass could be heard over Glen Miller's In The Mood on the jukebox. There were whoops of approval from the rest of the audience.

Chloe was clearly ready for it. She started moaning straight out of the gate, and it quickly escalated.

"Oh... oh... oh!"

She came, and Melinda promptly came in her, with long and satisfied "Ahh's." She patted Chloe's bum when she was done.

When she pulled out, her penis was dripping wet. Chloe turned around and gave it a quick suck before relinquishing her.

Connie watched her lover fuck her way down the line. She plunged into one pussy after another. They were all juicy and receptive.

Not surprising, thought Connie. They've been guzzling Vitamin J all night. Their bones must be like butter.

Her own pussy was just as wet, and trembly with prolonged excitement. She couldn't stop masturbating.

Eileen Plimpton was the noisiest of the bunch and came twice while Melinda was mounted upon her.

"Oh, give it to me," she groaned as the dickgirl flooded her with transformative sperm.

They were all on a hair-trigger, it seemed. It didn't take Melinda more than twenty strokes to bring each woman to orgasm, and then maybe ten more to get off herself. She fucked her way to stage right, and then -- to Connie's ever-increasing disbelief -- went back and started the process over again.

Most of the audience called it a night then. A few of the seated spectators joined the party up front. The rest left. As a result, the atmosphere became much cozier and intimate. At Eileen's request, Chloe scampered back to lock the front door and shucked her dress off entirely when she returned. The other women did likewise.

Connie shook her head to ensure she wasn't hallucinating. There were about eight naked, exceedingly attractive women (including Melinda) clustered around the stage. The tavern was empty besides.

The sex continued. The women got up on the small stage with Melinda and it was wall-to-wall bodies as she went back to work. She fucked them missionary-style this time. The women surrounded her. They kissed and hugged her and sucked her breasts as she slid inside each participant. Some of the women were kissing and embracing each other. As Connie watched, two of them moved into a sixty-nine position and began sucking each other's sperm-filled vaginas.

Melinda caught Connie's eye and waved her over.

Connie gulped.

What am I... Her brain fizzled. Am I going to do this?

The former schoolteacher stripped off her clothes and joined them. She got down on her back and spread her legs. The small crowd cooed in admiration as Melinda got on top of her.

It was pure bliss to feel that big prong slide inside her, where it belonged. After watching and playing with herself so much, she was overdue for it.

"Oh God," she choked, and came on the spot.

~~~

There was lots more sex that night. Melinda pumped three big loads inside her before she went on to fuck literally everyone else present. Connie came five times while she did so.

As she lay there panting, someone began eating her out. She squawked in surprise and looked down. The floor-licking rimjob artist looked back. She was a pretty blonde with a pixie cut. She sucked out Melinda's cum and tongue-teased Connie's clit with a merry twinkle.

Another woman suddenly sat on her face. She had a red bush; it was Chloe. Her pussy was pungent with sex and filled with familiar-tasting cream.

Connie opened her mouth and gave herself over to it. She hugged Chloe's thighs and pulled that auburn cunt down hard to her mouth. She sucked and licked.

I haven't eaten this much pussy in ages, she remembering thinking through the orgiastic haze that followed. Nor been eaten out by so many women.

She made Chloe come, and then Eileen took her place. Connie flung herself into it just as wantonly as these women did. She sixty-nined with the floor-licker (whose name, she discovered, was Margot) and was startled at how sweet and tasty her pussy was. There were fingers and mouths all over her. She did her best to return the favor. It was like swimming in a pool of hot, slippery skin. Every now and again, Melinda's big cock would plow back into her and fuck her silly. It would deposit another load of happy-sap and render her just as high and crazed as the other women of the Four Leaf.

~~~

It was after midnight when Miss Plimpton called a halt to things. Connie and Melinda said goodbye to all their new friends (Never had so many white lady friends before, she thought) and hauled themselves tiredly back to the kitchen to clean up and get settled.

Melinda's magic hat had partially refilled. Eileen, now dressed and freshened up, brought in a cash box and counted out Melinda's share of the gate and punch bowl proceeds. It totaled another fifty-two dollars and thirty cents. That, plus the hat, made their grand total for the evening a whopping two hundred and three dollars and thirty cents.

Eileen left them to help with closing clean-up while Connie just stared at the pile in front of them.

"That's more than I ever made in a month," she said softly.

"Good thing too," said Melinda. "My outfit needs to be dry cleaned."

Connie glanced at it. The elegant cutaway tailcoat was wrinkled and liberally splattered with white goop. She cleared her throat.

"If you don't mind me asking... what is this costume even supposed to be?"

"Oh, I just put it together over the years. Things I collected at thrift shops. I got the top hat first, because it just seemed practical, you know, it's a deep hat, lots of room for collecting money. Then I found the bowtie. It gave me this idea for a generic showgirl-type outfit. You know, something elegant and sexy and kinda silly."

"Well, bingo," said Connie. Then she thought of something.

"Where are we even going to sleep tonight?"

"You can sleep in the back seat. I'll drive us back to Pennsylvania. We'll hole up in a nice hotel for a few days. I need to talk to my booking agent and figure out my schedule for the next few months."

"Aren't you... tired?"

"I could sleep, sure. But emergent ladies don't need that much shut-eye."

"So..." said Connie slowly, "what then?"

"What when?"

"We go to Pennsylvania... you call your booker... then what?"

"Ah." Melinda's eyes sparkled. "That's when we make the big decision."

"What decision?"

Melinda's hand crept across the table and covered hers. "Do you stay... or do you go?"

"Stay?" Connie felt her heart beginning to thump.

"With me," clarified Melinda. Her hand squeezed hers. "As my manager-slash-driver-slash all around traveling companion. Slash lover."

Connie opened her suddenly dry mouth. I can't just go gallivanting around the countryside. I'm unemployed. I need to get a new job...

Then she closed her mouth. I have a severance package. A whole year's pay in the bank, thanks to this woman here. I don't have to do shit.

She stared at the tall, neat stacks of dollar bills in front of them. It was amazing how they drew her attention.

She cleared her throat.

"Would this be... a paid position?"

"Oh yes," said Melinda casually. "Twenty percent, off the top, standard."

That would make her cut of tonight's haul forty dollars and sixty-six cents. More than she'd ever made in one day. She felt dizzy.

"How many nights a week do you work?"

"When I'm touring? Four or five. Sometimes more."

Good Lord.

Connie took a breath and let it out. A somewhat stupefied smile spread across her face.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked. "Let's hit the road."

The End