Discovering Voyeurism

There are defining moments that happen in one's life that change life's direction dramatically, they are rarely planned and generally happen unnoticed, but once hindsight shines a spotlight on them, they become obvious.

I'm Marni Keefe and my life defining moment was a spontaneous, unplanned, spur of the moment action that was indubitably noticed by many, not as a life changing event at the time; but I soon after knew it was what defined my future.

The week before high school graduation, the entire student body filled the gymnasium bleachers. The cheerleading squad was center court, we were building a 5-tier pyramid, I, being the fifth, climbed to the top and when properly positioned standing proudly on Mark Benson's extended arms; instead of flinging my arms wide, waving my school-colored pom poms and yelling the school's name.

I dropped the pom poms, flipped my skirt to show everyone I forgot my panties, then lifted my top to my chin and shook my bare boobies ... yelling...

"LIFE'S SHORT, ENJOY IT!"

The bleachers shook with the roar of the students screaming, cheering, catcalling and whistling.

The thrill was extremely exhilarating, I loved it.

I was escorted off school property with the entire school chanting, 'MAR-NI, MAR-NI, MAR-NI'.

Once outside, I took several moments and reflected on what just transpired, I felt overwhelmed with intense feelings; the applause, the thunderous accolades, the admiration ... the jubilation ... sensations stronger than the pleasure of any orgasm I'd experienced. I could recall nothing that made me feel this ecstatic.

The 2-week suspension was well worth it; I discovered how much I loved being the center of attention, especially the pleasure I received by the sexual excitement that I caused.

I became the most popular girl, despite the few girls labelling me a slut; ironically, at this point in life, I had fewer sex relations than most of them.

I just liked being a flirt, flaunting my body.

Sex wasn't my goal, being noticed was, seeing people want me, that feeling was my energizing motivation, I loved it.

I dressed more provocatively than most, rather risqué, always showing some skin, maybe a little too much for many; I behaved more promiscuous, teasing became my thing.

Right after graduation, I got a full-time teller's job at my uncle's bank. I worked there daytime and to stroke my exhibitionist desires, I became an exotic dancer, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights at the local club.

I effen loved it ... taking my clothes off to everyone whooping and hollering; struttin my stuff for them to ogle; the pay was great too.

I performed for 10 minutes, 3 or 4 times in three hours a night and made more than eight hours in the bank.

Watching the other sexy girls naked bodies was an additional bonus, that also turned me on, provoking my voyeuristic cravings, and most nights there was usually some sort of fornication happening for me to watch.

It is a Wednesday, most days I go for a stroll in the park on my lunch break.

I am a 22-year-old temptress that always turns heads, and induce catcalls. I don't just walk; I strut with a bold attitude.

Being a rainy, dismal day, I am sauntering through the art gallery. My wavy crimson locks cascading over my shoulders in loose waves, reflecting light creating a kaleidoscope of coppery ginger hues; my radiance glowing with an enthusiastic aura, as I stride across the tiles, almost floating, heels clicking.

My sleeveless, spaghetti strap open back, low cut, emerald-green dress seems deliberately seductive, hugging my alluring figure tightly; not exactly normal attire for a bank teller, but I choose it because I prefer to push the dress code limits and plain business attire doesn't suit me.

Whenever I'm in public, my natural energetic manner is to vibrate with an eager energy, waiting for an opportunity to tease anyone.

A huge white canvas with only a few simple black swirls, hanging alone on an entire wall caught my curiosity, I stop, mesmerized, studying it; attempting to decipher what the simple curves represent.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" A husky, melodical, female voice behind my right shoulder. "It's titled 'Lovers', by Gaston Larue."

With a slight tip of my head, thinking a different angle might reveal something, eyes still on the artwork I remain studying the painting, without turning to see who's commenting, I respond to the woman.

"Are you an artist?"

"No, I'm a freelance art critic, I author my interpretations and feelings of art exhibits and whenever I'm published, I'm paid." She stood close beside me, her shoulder lightly grazing mine.

"I have a special interest in this exhibit; I am proud to say I was a nude model for Gaston several years ago; this painting is from that era."

That drew my attention, I'm instantly intrigued.

I turn to scan the woman; elegant, exquisite, are the first words that come to mind. Mature, sophisticated, mid to late 40's, voluptuous, well groomed, portraying style and grace; short black hair, gorgeous features requiring little make-up, if any at all; a seductive package capable of taking one's breath away, inducing carnal notions.

"I'm Selena," extending her right hand, "although I no longer pose for Gaston, we're still good friends." A comforting smile, a delightful glint in her eye.

"I'm Marni, I'm a teller at the bank across the street."

"Hello Marni," we delicately, very lady like shake hands.

"Marni, have you ever considered modelling? You're absolutely stunning."

She doesn't release my hand, squeezes it lightly, as we exchange pleasant smiles with our eyes, the air between us is charged.

"Only in fleeting fantasies," I wink, "I do have a flair for teasing, I'm a practicing exhibitionist, an exotic dancer 3 nights a week."

Selena's expression brightened,

"Oh, be still my throbbing heart, I always wanted to strip in public but never did."

Selena took my hand again, turning me,

"You'd be a great nude subject, you've got a terrific body, tantalizing curves, much like those." Selena gestures to Gaston's painting.

"When I was younger." She wistfully sighed, obviously lamenting.

Being my teasing self, I say,

"You're still very sexy Selena."

I saw her face light up.

Selena played tour guide as we sauntered unhurriedly through the gallery, exchanging pleasantries.

"Time for me to get back to my job," I tap my watch, "it was a pleasure Selena, thank you for the insightful tour, it was a real pleasure meeting you."

Selena took my hands, peering into my eyes with her sultry eyes.

"I think you're adorable, extremely enchanting, Marni, you have an energetic vibe and are absolutely alluring; you should be a model for Gaston; I know he's currently searching for someone like you." She lifts both my hands, bringing them together, "I'm having a couple friends over Friday, Gaston the artist being one, I'd like to invite you to join us for supper and evening drinks."

Her compliments made me blush while feeling ecstatic.

"Wow, yes, I'd love to." Nodding excitedly, making our hands bob.

"Great, give me your number, I'll text you the information."

We hug briefly before I depart.

I decided to take Friday night off from the strip club to go to supper at Selena's, excited at the opportunity to possibly becoming a model.

I arrive at Brayden and Selena's; it's a 2-story, early Victorian mansion, curved brick driveway, stone front, large double doors, lush green vines crawling up the walls.

Selena greets me with a warm hug and a gentle peck on my cheek. She exudes elegance, looking like royalty in a red satin gown, diamonds dangling from her ears, around her neck and wrist, as well as adorning 3 fingers. I have a momentary thought she's missing the tiara that a beauty queen should wear, I feel rather plain next to her.

The entryway is white marble, a huge exquisite chandelier hanging from the ultra high ceiling; to the right is a curved stairway, straight ahead is a large welcoming area where 3 others are standing, chatting, holding what appears to be wine.

I'm introduced to her husband Brayden, a well built, sandy blonde haired, blue eyed fellow, wearing a tailored black suit with a red bow tie. Standing next to him, Dale and Naomi, owners of Dalnao Real Estate Company. I'd say they're in their mid 40's, both well tanned. Dale has a friendly smile and an athletic body that doesn't happen by selling property, a powerful 6-foot frame, short mousy brown hair, his bulging biceps enhanced in a pale-yellow golf shirt, and hard, muscular thighs noticeable below white polo shorts.

Naomi's extraordinarily attractive, a perpetually polished appearance, long, straight, silky, straw blonde hair, seemingly shining. A great figure in a spaghetti strap, bright yellow, cotton, summer dress, barely covering her large bosom. Their attire making me feel slightly better in my black, mini cocktail dress.

Naomi's bright blue eyes are beyond sultry, transcending a mystical, naughty, twinkle that hints at, no, they are promising something sinful.

She's sexy, and my perception is, she's showing an arrogance of knowing she's hot.

Selena takes me by the arm and leads me to the expansive sunken living room.

White tile floor, rich, clean, modern vibe, white leather furniture, seating capable for at least ten.

Selena stops at the edge of the two stairs.

There is a gentleman standing in front of an 8-foot by 6-foot abstract artwork on the living room wall, very similar to the one in the exhibit where I met Selena, it also has several bold, curved black lines on a flesh color pink canvas.

He appears to be in deep thought, a quiet, meditative state, lost in contemplation, thumb under his chin and forefinger stroking the whiskers between his lower lip and thumb, elbow resting on his other hand.

He had the look of an artist; smaller stature, slight, nonathletic, ruggedly handsome in a quiet unassuming way.

Strong facial features, what one would expect to see on a men's cologne advertisement. Shoulder length, thick wavy black hair.

Selena leads me to him.

"Marni, it's my pleasure to introduce you to Gaston."

Gaston turns, our eyes meet, sparkling blue eyes, deep and kind, the type that demand attention; a disarming smile, a neatly trimmed, crisp edged, 4 or 5-day old, dark beard.

He lightly holds my right hand, bows slightly, like an oriental showing respect. I feel I should curtsy.

"Mon Dieu, Tres Magnifique!" He gingerly kisses the back of my hand, my heart did that little flip when his gaze met mine and the air seemed electric, a shivering tremor tingles through me.

"Are you a model Marni?" He had a slight, nearly imperceptible, yet noticeable French accent. His captivating eyes scanning my body.

"No, I'm a bank teller."

"Such spectacular natural beauty should be shared with the world, not hidden behind a bank counter." I felt noticed; making me feel thousands of butterflies flitter from their perch, from such a simple glance. His words, his demeanor, the presentation, whether it was meant to be or not, is seductive, I titter, like a smitten schoolgirl.

Selena hails everyone to sit for supper.

I am seated to the right of Selena, where I look across past Gaston to the far wall where the artwork is hung. I'm unsure which I am most interested in, I am scrutinizing both, focused on neither.

I am so engrossed in both, that my name had to be repeated a couple times for me to answer a question at the table.

There is a fascinating depth in Gaston's mannerism, he listens more than he speaks, is very sincere, and spoke with wisdom, when his deep voice did chime in on the conversation. Numerous times our eyes met, making us both grin, there is an undeniable energy that permeates the air between us, a notable connection in spirit is perceived by both of us.

Gaston laughs with gusto, not just with his voice, his entire body participates; his eyes sparkle, his hands come together, he rocks back then forward, his deep volume drowns out everyone else. It is contagious, I can't help but laugh with him, even though I never heard the reason we are laughing.

The boisterous release surprises me, as my first impression was he was somewhat of an introvert, he seemed so quiet, quite reserved.

During the meal, again I was studying the artwork, Brayden asks, "What is your interpretation of that artwork Marni?"

I smile, "I see a woman exploded."

Selena speaks "Wow, I like that, very insightful."

By meals end, I turn to Selena and whisper, "After more scrutiny my interpretation is the sexy contours of two female bodies intertwined." She taps my hand and winks, her lips curling into a wide smile.

We congregate in the living room; Selena pours red wine as we all settle on the white sectional sofas, for the social portion of the evening.

I excuse myself to use the restroom.

In the main bathroom there is a smaller, similar picture to the large one I studied in the living room, this one has more lines, I peer at the artwork and deduce its pornographic connotation, it is a person performing oral sex on another woman.

Before leaving I check the mirror and notice I need a touch up on my lipstick; my coat and purse were put in the master bedroom, so I head there.

Our coats are on a long hassock at foot of a huge 9-foot bed with a mirrored headboard; I've never knew such a large bed was available, wondered if it was special made. I've read about why people have mirrored headboards; giving me a salacious thought of Selena and Brayden fornicating.

When I lift my coat, I notice what appears to be a rope; curious, I inspect closer, it's a soft white cotton rope and I check; it's on all 4 corners of the huge bed.

I extrapolate its intent, and an erotic image of Selena's sexy form splayed across the bed restrained as Brayden enjoys her sexy body.

I catch sight of several more erotic artworks, another quite similar to the other two, this one even more detailed; closer scrutiny determines it is irrefutably sapphic women making love.

Two more 16 X 12's on the far wall, I move closer to assess them.

This one could be a photograph, but it's definitely oil on canvas, it is so detailed, assuredly a woman performing cunninglingus. The framed photograph beside it is of Selena on this bed; her eyes closed with her hands holding a blonde women's head, who's face is buried in Selena's crotch.

Aha, this photo is the inspiration for the artwork displayed in the gallery and living room.

Selena did confide she posed for Gaston; however I didn't peg her to be so salacious; I'm quite aroused, I've never viewed pornography, I find it extremely sexually stimulating. I continue studying every detail and find myself titillated, actually fantasizing myself between Selena's thighs.

After lingering too long admiring the art, I enter the 1/2 bath off the master to touch up my makeup. On the wall opposite the mirror is a cluster of several small pornographic pictures.

Naomi and Selena naked, kissing in an intimate embrace on the bed, partially blocked by Brayden who holds a video camera pointed at them, I assume Dale took the picture over Brayden's shoulder. I run vivid images of that porno flic in my mind.

There's a photo of Brayden and Dale DPing Naomi, in a stand-up threesome; both men's athletic bodies glistening, a glow of candles reflecting their sweaty bodies. Naomi's face is contorted, eyes shut, obviously in the midst of an orgasm.

Another pic, a group of 6, all naked, an orgy on the large bed, four of them, Braydon, Selena, Dale and Naomi are in the other room.

My heart races, I gasp ... was I invited here to be seduced into swinging? I swallow hard, no doubt I'm aroused, I'm not sure, I've never considered anything like this. I'm not a virgin, but all my relationships have been monogamist; however, in this heightened exhilarated state I'm in, I might be inclined to take part in the experience.

No, I decide, I'm not ready to participate in an orgy with 5 people I just met.

Returning my lipstick to my purse, I notice the ceiling mirror, my imagination once more inspired; I'm beyond aroused, I'm downright horny from viewing these pornographic images and my active imagination has me reconsidering participating under the mirror; it would be so exhilarating to watch and enjoy sex at the same time.

I return to the living room; my eyes meet Selena's; there's a knowing exchange of glances. She quickly rises and comes to greet me.

She takes both my hands, "You went into the master," she has that mischievous twinkle and whispers, "you saw."

My breath caught, I was nervous, unable to speak, but nodded.

Selena puts one hand around my waist, one on my shoulder, whispering, "I didn't invite you here to participate, I only wanted Gaston to see your beauty, he has confided with me an idea for another art exhibit and he's looking for a younger model, preferably a redhead, lithe, like you." Selena hugs me, her warm breath on my neck.

"You may get your coat and leave, I'm sorry if you're offended."

I find my voice, my heart pounding, "I'm not offended Selena, I'm actually extremely aroused, but also very scared."

Selena hugs me a little tighter, "We're intending to have sex tonight, would you like to watch, then if you have the urge, you can join in, if not your welcome to leave whenever."

I let out a deep sigh.

"Ok."

I nervously took a seat between Gaston and Naomi, Selena hands me a glass of wine.

touches my knee, I feel intimately close to Gaston even though we just met, but I'm quite anxious about participating in an orgy and now that is forefront in my mind, I'm unsure if my trembling is noticeable.

Gaston's gentle touch on my knee isn't sexual, it's calming and comforting.

In his deep radio announcer voice, he asks. "Marni, I'm looking for a redhead model with a spectacular body for my next endeavor, someone so very much like you. Would you be interested in being my inspiration for a series of paintings I envision?"

I'm about to give him an affirmative answer, when he barely above a whisper, speaks softly,

"Are you comfortable being nude? I'm prepared to pay $50 an hour."

Wow, that's triple what I make at the bank,

"I think so, but I do have a couple concerns." I smile politely.

Gaston in his silent heartfelt wisdom says,

"Let's go to another room, we'll discuss your concerns."

He takes my hand and leads me toward the master.

I ask as we walk down the hallway.

"Will you be fucking me?"

"Only if you ask me too. It is not a requirement."

He closes the door behind us.

"I do need to see you naked as all my artwork is erotic, exclusively nudes."

I unzip my dress "I've seen several of your paintings of Selena and Naomi. They really turn me on." I squirm out of my dress, unclasp my lacy black bra, leaving my heels and black lace panties on.

"Exquisite, excellent conical shape, no sag, small areoles, a gorgeous red hue, not brown, these are precisely what I was hoping to find; may I touch you, Marni?"

"Of course." I wiggle just enough to have them jiggle.

Gaston lightly rests his hand on my hip, roves his fingertips up my ribcage.

"Damn, nice smooth tight belly, defined ribs, slight valleys,"

His fingers continue up, he lightly lifts the underside of my right boob, his thumb crosses my nipple, then he rolls the nipple between thumb and forefinger until it stiffens. No doubt his attention arouses me even further than the pornography did.

"Oh, how delightful, these tiny red nipples are awesome." Gaston steps back to admire me. I've never felt so adored; nor as excited.

"You may sit." Marni, you saw my work with Naomi and Selena is erotic, suggestive. I'm known for those simplistic curves, vague, only a few pieces were detailed. My thoughts this time are similar simplistic curves; but with this series I want to really focus on certain areas and highly detail them. For example," Gaston positions me laying on my side, my head resting on my arm, "I use your outer hourglass curve line," he runs his hand from my armpit to my leg

as in my previous works, then; I focus on this area." He runs his forefinger around my left breast, "Capturing the shape and color of your breast in perfect detail."

He repositions me, cross legged, crossed arms. "This pose, I would outline your figure, arms and legs, an open figure eight, and focus and capture this region right here." He circles my vulva the lower part of my belly to my inner thighs.

"Detailing the black lace, your seductive camel toe against your contrasting smooth white thighs."

He takes a deep breath.

"Same pose, without panties, I would detail your labia and surrounding area."

"Are you comfortable Marni? Is this too much or may we continue?"

"Oh, I'm fine, please go on."

Fine, hell I'm getting even more aroused.

"So, you'd pose for that?"

I nod eagerly, slightly out of breath I reply.

"Yes, I would."

"How about some more pornographic poses, as I have another series in mind, I think you might be perfect for."

"Ok," Slightly hesitant, but curiosity peaked.

"Maybe, uh, tell me more."

"Please remove your panties, I want to see if I'm as impressed with your privates as I am with the rest of your body."

I slide to the edge of the bed, lift slightly and slide my panties past my hips, wiggle my legs until I can lift my feet free from the flimsy fabric.

"Oh Marni, that's so hot, my gawd, your pubic heart is gorgeous. I've never seen a trim like that, awesome. Gaston is stunned, an adoring expression takes over his excited facial expression.

"I must do at least a 4-foot x 6-foot of that; maybe even a 10 x 12 foot." Gaston excitedly goes on.

"Marni, imagine with me," his hands waving sporadically as he gushes,

"a painting larger than the size of the one in Selena's living room, with each individual ginger pubic hair reflecting sunlight, each creating a shadow, like a forest; the colors explode from the canvas in hues of crimson, highlighting that sexy heart shape and your delectable thin peeking pink labia, my gawd Marni, that one painting could fetch tens of thousands of dollars."

Gaston puts his fingers to his face.

"Marni, I'll not only pay you $50 an hour, but I'll also give you 15% of all sales of your poses; please say yes, I want you to be my model."

"Gaston, I love it, yes, yes, let's do it." I hug him.

"Wait what else ... you mentioned some pornographic series."

Gaston sits beside me on the bed.

"Ok, I have envisioned a series, with the outer curves to show two lovers as in my 1st series; then, like my second series highlighted details.

Not with two women, but a couple; Marni, imagine a black man's finger, his chocolate colored knuckle, complete with perfectly detailed wrinkles and fingernails alongside your blood engorged, glistening pink clitoris."

He twists. overflowing with enthusiasm.

Another one of a black man's chocolate brown cheek contrasted against your alabaster thigh, his pink tongue protruding out from black lips, nearly touching your puckered red anus; maybe his fingers holding your butt cheeks apart. Another of your tongue on his glistening, saliva-soaked black cock."

I turn to Gaston, panting "You need to fuck me, it's now a requirement, I'm so frikkin horny."

Gaston stands and as he's undressing, I splay myself out on the bed, gazing up at my reflection.

"Gaston, I've always felt I was an exhibitionist; this is all a dream come true."

Gaston's cock is still flaccid, likely 6" long and slender, uncircumcised. He has unruly, thick, black pubes, in fact, the majority of his wimpy body has a covering of black hair.

I start with a hand job as we lay on our sides French kissing.

"I don't need any foreplay, viewing your artwork got me aroused, your descriptions of my future posing in porn, elevated me, now I need a good fucking, one orgasm may not quench this built-up lust."

"Well, if you need more than I can offer, I know there's four other horny folks out there to oblige your cravings."

Gaston's rod is rigid, I lay on my back, he mounts me missionary, and I tuck him in, likely only 15 strokes and my legs wrap around his torso. His tongue flicking, his lips sucking my nipples.

Watching us fuck in the mirrors is like seeing myself starring in porn, so thrilling, titillating, like being a voyeur and an exhibitionist simultaneously; I'm escalated to another level of eroticism.

I'm matching his rhythm, mere moments, and I emit some guttural groan from deep within. As a tremendous wave of sensations crest over me, a tempest of emotions release.

Gaston remains relentless, my nails rake his back our hips writhing in unison, he increases tempo, and begins sweating, breathing sporadic, he's on the home stretch, pounding me with an intense urgency.

I hope he holds off until I peak again.

"Aarrgghhh, Gaston grunts, his back arches, he holds fast, deep within me, his sperm spurting with pulsing muscle contractions, making my body scream for more, gasps of ecstasy, conquer me and i quake as we climax together.

"OH, uhh, uuhh, yyeeesss, Gasstaaawwwnnn."

I have another fierce, shivering orgasm.

I gasp for air, my legs straighten, fists clench the bedding, and I moaann in euphoric bliss.

Gaston stays on top, but lifts to his elbows and knees like a gentleman, as we share a passionate kiss, and he eases out.

"Mmm, so much better than a handshake, I trust this seals the deal." I sigh, satisfied, as Gaston rolls off with a deep exhaling breath.

"Well, yes, but there will be some legal paperwork you'll need to sign, but now I can focus on finding a Black man for the second series."

"I might know of an 18-year-old, which has had a crush on me for years, I'm sure he'd be eager to take part, and likely for much less than $50 an hour just to be with me.

We cuddle and discuss arrangements to meet at his studio Sunday to arrange times to get started.

Gaston rolls off the bed, "let's join the others, I'm sure they'll be in full swing mode by now."

I remain... gazing up at my splayed-out body reflecting in the mirror, basking in afterglow, more from my future posing, than from my recent orgasm.

Taking stock, of my life until now, feeling immense gratitude. I tenderly explore my enticing body, not for sexual stimulation, but for the pleasure of viewing my reflection.

I dress, I take my coat and purse, knowing I'll not be joining the others tonight, intending to quietly leave without stopping.

My eyes widen when I enter the living room area; the five are an enthralling vision and the air is permeating with the scent of sex.

Selena's hips are balanced on the arm of the sofa, her left leg hooked over the back of sofa, her hands squeezing Naomi's buttocks above her head, as they're in a 69.

Dale is standing between Selena's thighs, his rod ramming her back door as Naomi licks the front.

What is most mesmerizing is Braydon hugging Dale from behind, his arms around his chest resting his head on Dales upper back. As Dale plunges into Selena, Braydon's cock comes momentarily into view, as Dale draws back from sodomizing Selena, I briefly see his glistening dick and Braydon's disappears, sinking into Dale's backside.

Gaston is sitting with his back against the sofa under Selena's rear. He is attempting to lick and suck Dale's balls as they swing to and fro. Gaston's left hand is fondling Braydon's sack, his right forefinger invading Braydon's arse.

I've never witnessed such carnal action, I've witnessed several incidences in various acts, making out at the club; but this is primal, carnal pornography and it is hypnotic, I take a seat on a chair across from the sofa, my coat and purse on my lap, my eyes riveted to the erotic, steamy scene, bewitched, I have to watch.

I reconsidered leaving.

Selena initiates the chain reaction with a muffled groan, her body shudders. Naomi sits upright, grinding her bottom on Selena's face as her extremities quiver, she twists her nipples, head falls back and she groans.

Dale grunts loudly and as he pulls out of Selena's anus, sperm strings stream forth.

Gaston's quick, greedily slurping all he can reach, grabbing Dale's twitching wand and deep throats him, sucking out whatever Dale hasn't already let fly.

Braydon's hands are gripping Dale's waist firmly and he has a desperate expression as he pumps purposefully into Dale's butt, his head rears back, and he grunts like a snorting bull with each lunge.

Gaston moves to Braydon to capture any leakage from that anal union.

Braydon's hands move from Dales hips to Gaston's head. Dale crawls over the sofa arm and kneels behind Braydon and goes down on Gaston's upright shaft.

Selena leaves the sofa, comes to sit beside me, put's her arm around me, nuzzles my neck, puts my right hand on her protruding nipple. Her hot breath in my left ear, she whispers.

"I'd like you to spend the night on the big bed with us." She nibbles my earlobe and makes me squeeze her soft melon.

"Selena," I twist so our eyes connect,

"I do have the urge to join in."

I pull my hand from her tit, drop it to her smooth thigh.

Still debating.

"I love to be the center of attention, and I'm certain it would be sensational to have everyone's hands and lips paying homage."

I shake my head, making my final decision.

"This is just too overwhelming, I need to dip my toes first, I'm not ready to jump in the deep end. You said earlier I could leave whenever; I'm going to leave now. Thank you for tonight."

I stand from my voyeuristic position, holding my palm to Selena in a stop gesture, I silently exit; as my feet ascend the stairs from the living room I hear Gaston's pleasurable groan.

Saturday morning, I stop at a glass shop and order 2 large mirrors, before going to my parents.

I pass through the side gate, as I rarely use the front door; before I round the corner to the back yard, I hear mom moaning. Peeking around the corner, Mom is straddling a fellow I don't recognize, giving him a face-to-face lap dance; dad is standing beside them, all three are naked. I can't see the man's face from where I am; he is alternating between sucking mom's tits and dad's cock, when his mouth leaves either, his hand takes over, tugging, twisting, teasing, caressing.

Dad notices me and wiggles his finger to beckon me to join; I shake my head no, yet cautiously approach.

I pause as mom begins the throes of an orgasm, she wraps her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder groaning, grinding her hips aggressively against him as she lifts her head groaning.

A minute later mom lifts off the stranger's erection, presses her upper body to the table, reaching across to grip the far edge with her fingers.

Dad parts her ass cheeks and from my viewpoint I can't tell which hole he chooses, but by mom's wince, I assume he penetrates her back door.

This was in no way the first time I'd viewed my parents copulating. They were never inhibited and seldom close their bedroom door or showed any concern who was around when the mood took them, they fucked; whether it was when we were watching a movie or mom in the kitchen cooking. Seriously absolutely anytime, they showed no shyness, they openly fucked, like it was as natural as holding hands or kissing. I believe that is why I too have such a liberal outlook on sexuality.

I learned years ago mom and dad were nudists and swingers, they attended 4 or 5 events a year and had overnight visitors a couple times a month, I was often invited to join, never did, but I did enjoy watching or teasing them.

The unknown man, stands, he is older than me, but younger than mom and dad, short light brown hair; he moves behind dad and places his left hand on the small of dads back; with his right hand he holds the base of his slender slick dick and pushes steadily, fully into dad's rear.

I recall watching Gaston, Dale and Braydon's homosexual action last night and that really turned me on, this is different, this is my dad, I've never seen him with a man before this.

I move in front of mom, lift off my dress, unhook my bra, lower my panties and take a seat where all three can watch me. I place my right foot by mom's hand, my left knee widens as I slide my bum to the very edge of the chair. I tweak, tug and roll my tiny red nipples, biting my lower lip, making googly eyes at the unknown male.

My tongue swipes across my lips, my eyes searching theirs as my left middle and forefinger hold my labia apart, I lightly diddle my clit. All six eyes are on my fingers; the thrill of being the center of attention as they fuck is building a surge in me.

This is what turs me on the most, teasing others, making others desire me more than anyone else; it's a thrilling aphrodisiac to me.

For years, I've known how much my parents want to have sex with me; and I refuse but continue to tease them, whenever the opportunity arises.

I dip two fingers into my slick slit and then seductively taste my juice, sucking noisily.

I make steady moaning sounds as I masturbate, feigning an orgasm, peering at the new guy, I straighten my legs and quiver, I keep my right fingers edging my labia as I twist my nipples and groan as if ecstasy has been achieved.

The man's hands grip dad firmly and with a flurry of thrusts he grunts, somewhat of a cross between a snorting boar and a whipped dog's yelp.

It appears like the effect transferred as fast as his jism, cause dad lifts his head and groans, while mom straight out wails "Yeeessss!"

They remain connected and take the necessary effort to complete their threesome passionate pleasure encounter, kissing and mellowing after their intimate relations.

"Marni, this is Kirk Wilson, we met him and his wife Susan, a couple months ago at a swinger's hotel takeover we all attended. He's in town for a sales proposal and will be staying with us for a couple days instead of sitting alone in a hotel."

We all remain naked.

Mom premade sandwiches and iced tea, so I help bring out lunch to the patio.

I could tell Kirk was infatuated with me, so I flirt and tease him while prepping lunch.

"Will you be joining us Marni?" Kirk asked.

"Nope." I don't play with my parents."

"Do you have incest issues?"

"Not at all, I just know how badly they crave me, and if I once succumb to enjoy their passion, I no longer have my favorite audience to fulfill my exhibitionism. I love teasing them too much." I wiggle my tits across dad's back as I fondle mom's nipple, and nibble her earlobe.

During lunch, I ask about Jamal.

Jamal is 4 years my junior, he lived a few houses up from us; he did odd jobs for us, cut our grass, trimmed hedges, painting, anything dad didn't like doing, he'd pay young Jamal to do.

Jamal had a huge crush on me, and he tried extremely hard to make me notice him whenever I was near. To me he was a child, I was a woman, but the thrill of his desire always made me smile, and as he grew I teased him more.

As Mom refills my glass with iced tea.

"Jamal will be home from college tomorrow, he got a sports scholarship, he's studying fine arts and he's become such a strong, handsome lad."

Dad looks up, swallowing before his speaks,

"What mischief is our beautiful daughter enjoying these days?"

I sip my tea and smile, with as much reserve as I can, I excitedly share.

"Well, I met an accomplished French artist last night, he offered me $50 an hour and a percentage of art sales; I'll be posing nude for him as soon as his lawyer has the paperwork ready for me to sign."

Mom touches my hand, a twinkle in her eye.

"Did he discover you at the strip club?"

"No, I was browsing the gallery downtown at lunch Wednesday when it was raining; one of his former models approached me and yesterday she introduced me to him."

"Aha, so does that have some bearing on asking about Jamal, or are you finally recognizing how great he is? I always thought you 2 might hook up."

"Oh Dad, Jamal's 4 years younger than me." I give him my 'really dad' look.

Mom squeezes my hand,

"Marni, when you were a developing teenager, yes 4 years made him a kid; but Marni, trust me Jamal's a fully developed man now, 4 years means nothing now."

I reply, "Gaston, the artist, wants to do a nude series with a Black man's contrasting skin color with mine."

"Marni, you know how that boy has always lusted for you, he's a man now. With your promiscuity, the two of you together in the nude ..." Mom chortles with a devilish smirk, shaking her head.

"You better double your protection girl, I know you ... and I know how much Jamal's changed; once you're naked with him, you won't be able to keep your knees together." Raising her iced tea.

"Oh Mamma, stop, I'm not as horny as you, I don't spread for anyone who wants me." I chuckle wiggling my eyebrows at Kirk.

"Mom's right Marni, you're a sexy young woman, he's grown into an extremely sexy hunk." Dad leans forward, his expression one I'd seen a thousand times, the stare ... he's about to impart some fatherly wisdom on me.

"You're a free spirited, living for thrills today type of gal, always have been, you have that contagious enthusiasm, which makes you who you are. We're not telling you to not to enjoy life as you desire, you know we support your choices and decisions. We just want you to be safe and happy; go ahead, live life for excitement, you love the attention." Dad smiles broadly, leans toward me to accentuate his words.

"Mamma's just saying Jamal's excitement is going to be presented to you; all that pent up lust will be tough to resist, you most likely will be enthralled, so don't eagerly jump on him, be sure to take the necessary precautions and stay protected."

My cheeks are most likely redder than my hair.

"Damn, I have the best parents anyone could have." I stand pick up my dress and give them both a hug and kiss their cheeks.

Before redressing I give Kirk a passionate kiss, lifting his fingers to my tit, and I tug on his cock.

"I'll stay safe, and I'll be in touch; I'm leaving now. I think Kirk needs some more attention."

I walk up the street to Jamal's parents house, his mom tells me he's due home tomorrow, I give her my number and ask her to have him call me when convenient.

Saturday night at the club isn't as exciting as in the past, something's shifted. Watching the other girls naked bodies, hearing the cheers as they dance, doesn't have the same effect, I'm not as aroused as I usually am.

My mind is on posing; not only the first series with Gaston; the second series, the pornographic one with Jamal has spawned my fantasies and taken over most of my thoughts.

Jamal has craved me for at least 4 years; as mom and dad brought to my attention, he's a fully developed man now.

I imagine how he must want to ravage me; and how provocative it will be to tantalize him.

It's my final set of the night; the spotlight focuses on me sitting to side of the stage. The shimmering red satin gown I'm wearing has a slit from the lower hem to my hip bone, I straighten my toned leg, pointing my red stiletto to the opposite side of the stage, the dress falls away, exposing my entire lower right side, my leg wrapped in red fishnets held with a red garter. I lift my foot high, before crossing it sensuously over my left knee, getting the crowd to cheer.

I take a dramatic puff on the lengthy cigarette holder held delicately between my fingers clad in red opera gloves.

The spotlight moves to focus on Marlene, a Black dancer wearing a tuxedo, complete with top hat and walking stick, approaching me from center backstage. The music comes up, playing 'The Lady in Red' as she arrives, she tips her hat with the cane and extends her hand, I take it and rise from my chair.

Slowly, seductively, we waltz ballroom style to the music, dancing close to the front center stage, she extends her arm as I twirl away, as I return to her arms, she hugs me in a spooning position, her arms crossed around my waist.

Marlene seductively nuzzles the nape of my neck and lowers the left side of my gown, cupping the underside then running her left hand over my exposed left breast, her right hand pulls the gown off my right shoulder.

The gown drops to a heap at my feet, and she squeezes both my mounds as my head falls on her shoulder, she kneads both working the onlookers into a frenzy.

I'm now naked save my thong, garter, fishnets and stilettos, the cheers louden, paper bills are thrown, floating down, laying scattered on the stage; the front row of men boisterously beckoning me closer, taunting, waving cash.

I widen my feet, grab the cane from Marlene and press the gold crowned, glossy black stick against my crotch, gyrating to the beat of the music, my expression and movements depicting I'm going to use the cane to satisfy myself sexually.

Marlene exits, my left hand is pleasuring my naked breasts, my head tilts back, both hands stroke the cane as if it's a long thin cock held securely between my thighs. Left fingers toying with the gold knob atop the cane as I stroke the thin shaft against my camel toe, through my red lacy thong.

I squat, center stage just beyond the reach of the male hands trying to grope me. Knees wide, maintaining the salacious rhythmic movement of the cane on my pussy; I survey the wide eyed, panting, lust crazed men holding cash. Most of their eyes are focused on my crotch, a few viewing my left hand caressing my tits, tugging, twisting my erect nipples, I roll my eyes, groan too loud to be realistic and let my head fall back so my ginger hair is touching the floor.

The cane vertical, snug against my vulva, I raise and lower my body, then twerk wildly, rubbing my labia along the smooth stick, giving myself a bit of a thrill, but giving the ogling men much more than myself.

I lift myself to view the crowd, lick my fingers and wet my nipples.

More dollars are dropping as I feign my intense arousal.

Spreading my knees as wide as possible, my left-hand moves to cover my crotch. I flip the cane around the bottom tip now in front of my face, placing the gold knob to the upper edge of my thong, my left thumb pulls the elastic hem from my flesh, allowing the bulbous gold knob to slip inside my thong, but out of view of the crowd, hidden by my left hand.

Sloth like, I lower the knob, I give a seductive stare to front row of gents, my left hand allows the gold knob to glide between my vertical lips but remains hidden by my hand. After several strokes the lights dim, I groan loudly fall back, stretch out my legs into a yawning V, my hips humping wildly before the spotlight goes out.

The stage goes dark, I cry out, groaning as if I'm having a tumultuous orgasm.

A moment later the lights return barely illuminating the stage. I show the glistening gold knob that I licked when the lights were out.

The crowds in a frenzy, bills are thrown, loud, catcalls, cheers.

I crawl around like a cat prowling, stalking prey, as I gather the bills. Several men grope, stuffing bills into my thong, I move steadily, quickly, so no one person gets too friendly.

I stand, wide legged, a stance with my feet wider than my shoulders, facing the crowd, using both hands I blow them air kisses before strutting off stage with a thunderous applause.

Sunday afternoon Jamal contacts me while I'm at Gaston's studio, I pass Gaston my phone.

"Jamal, I'm Gaston, you're on speaker with Marni and me, I'm a somewhat notable artist. I'm going to be collaborating with Marni on a series of nudes, I also have some interesting concepts for some couples' artwork, I'm wanting a handsome Black man to pose nude with Marni; does that interest you?"

It was an instantaneous response,

"Hell ya."

"Great Jamal, when can we meet, to discuss my ideas and I need to check out your body, to qualify you."

"I'm home for the summer, without plans."

"Could you come to my studio now?"

"Absolutely,"

"Ok, I'll text you the address."

When Jamal enters the studio, his smoldering gaze draws my eyes in; the instant he sees me, his entire face lights up like an airport runway at night; his lips curl and when his captivating smile completes his glistening white teeth shine. I remember that smile, it hasn't changed, natural, and purposeful.

I haven't seen Jamal since I moved out shortly after grad.

Mom and Dad were right; that boy has become a man, a handsome, muscular man, like most Black people he moves fluidly as he crosses the studio to where we are seated.

I can envision him flexing in a weightlifter pose and popping every shirt button, sending them little suckers flying as projectiles, shooting across the room, and his biceps ripping the sleeves at the same time.

Gaston stands extends his hand.

"Glad to meet you, Jamal." Jamal shakes Gaston's hand but only briefly takes his eyes from mine.

"Wow Marni you haven't changed at all, still as radiant and ravishing as I remember." His voice has deepened too.

I accept the hand he offers,

"Well thank you Jamal." I purposely let him see my eyes scan his body,

"whew, you most certainly have." I intentionally pant,

"Jamal, you never impressed me as a child, but damn, you're hot now." I made a sizzling sound "ppzzzt" and blew on my waving hand as I withdrew it from him.

"I agree," Gaston adds,

"You, ARE, a hot hunk ... are you comfortable being naked in front of us?"

Jamal's smile grew, his brown eyes sparkling as he gazes at me; like a male stripper, he starts with the top button on his shirt, exaggerating his undressing action, steady, slow, seductively undoing them.

Jamal ran his tongue across his lips.

"Marni, I found out you were an exotic dancer before I graduated; I think that led me to take a college course in dance, and once I became sexually active, I became a male stripper, to help with college expenses." He flips open his shirt to reveal defined abs.

He tosses his shirt aside; and with an extremely seductive, Elvis's style, hip and torso gyration, undoes his Levi's. Hooking his thumbs on the beltline, lowering them teasingly, alternating side to side, stopping when the hem of red briefs and the base of his manhood shows; also revealing a smooth, likely waxed, surrounding playground.

"Damn Jamal; that's not the body that used to cut our grass." I breathlessly express as he carefully lowers his jeans, to not drag his briefs down as well.

"Whoa ..." I murmur, seeing his 6 pack and muscular thighs tighten.

By the time Jamal kicks his jeans aside, I am panting, sopping wet, his tight red bikini briefs outline an impressive member.

Mom and dad were spot on; I am immediately willingly ready to yawn my legs and welcome him with open arms to fuck me.

Jamal turns his back to me and in one swift movement, pulls his bikini briefs to his ankles, shaking his booty at me like an invitation; my mind craves my fingers to knead his fine ass, check how tight his cheek muscles are and as I reach forward to do so, my progress is impeded, I am cut off.

Gaston drops to his knees behind Jamal; his right-hand snakes between Jamal's thighs and cups his balls, his face presses between Jamal's butt cheeks. Gaston's movement indicate Jamal is receiving an anal tongue rimming, combined with some hand jerking happening out front.

I expected Jamal to reject or resist; he didn't, he unhurriedly turns to face me, allowing Gaston to follow. His cock was no longer flaccid; it was definitely longer than outlined in the briefs and now semi erect. Gaston cradles the black shaft like it was made of easily shattered glass, his tongue circles the conical head, before attempting to stab his tongue into the tiny orifice on the tip.

I remember Friday night, how Gaston seemed to enjoy the guys dicks more than me and how that didn't bother me, the homosexual behavior with those guys aroused me as much as the lesbian play; but for some reason I was disappointed with Jamal, I had anticipated such an unrefined, raw, wild fucking, as soon as he saw me.

My fingers involuntarily go to my vagina, as does Jamal's eyes; I teasingly edge my labia and bite my lower lip; hoping Jamal is Bi, not Gay; I want to see his lust for me grow even more than his cock.

Jamal, now hard from Gaston's feverish oral action; places his hands on either side of Gaston's head, lifts him, Jamal whispers something to Gaston and tenderly kisses his mouth.

Gaston steps aside, Jamal moves to me, standing just in front of me, hands on his hips, his massive manhood, slick with saliva, hung, angled downward, likely too heavy to poke upright like most cocks when fully aroused.

Jamal sat beside me; his fingers began moving with mine for a few moments, then he takes them from my pussy.

"Marni, for years I've dreamt, daydreamed and fantasied about you. I'll bet, while masturbating thinking of us fucking, I've ejaculated more of my sperm into socks and Kleenexes, then many wives receive in their entire marriage."

I snicker; think to myself that is a nice thing to admit.

"Well Jamal, I'm certainly ready now." I curl all my fingers around his dark chocolate shaft, and there is still room for another hand, I slide my left fingers down to wiggle his balls. They too are larger than any I've fondled; a shiver courses through me at the thought of him piercing my labia with his bulbous glans.

Unbridled passion is now expressed in his dark eyes, making my heart race, Jamal lifts my dress off, our mouths meet, his muscular hands squeeze my melons.

We fall back; his fingers fondle my erect nipples.

"Stop." Gaston spoke loudly. "May I take some pics; I want to capture these first intense emotions these initial raw moments can never be duplicated."

"Yes." I gasp, as much for Jamal to proceed as to Gaston taking pics.

Our lips press together, sharing a passionate promise of the ecstasy to come.

I surrender entirely to Jamal's hands exploring my highly attentive body with a ravenous hunger. Waves of desire crashing as he claims me with a fierce, burning passion, built up over the years, palpable energy grew, without hesitation his attentive hands wandering unhurried taking in details of my body, every small gesture seems intentional, making me feel treasured; he ignites my libido more than anyone else ever accomplished.

I moan at the tremendous tender passion he's administering.

Nothing is more important than just us, this moment right here, sharing our connection together, each tender touch releasing another pleasurable jolt of delight.

Jamal's meandering fingertips sending shivers of anticipation coursing through me. He traces the gentle swell of my breasts, my tiny, hard, peaks tingling beneath his titillating rolling.

His explorations venture lower, lingering on the curve of my waist, intensifying the fire within my core, I begin to writhe.

Jamal's touch grew bolder, setting flame to the most intimate recesses of my being, fingers passing my flat belly, combing through my pubes; I emit a pleasing moan. An intentional pause as a finger arrives to my clit; teasing my silken skin, delicately fluttering, edging my lips, tormenting me until I squirm helplessly beneath his masterful onslaught. My body arches involuntarily to meet his exquisite touch, my murmuring moans a constant serenade of the pleasure I am receiving.

I gasped as a finger slipped in making me tremble with pleasure and moan.

Jamal knew I was ready, he didn't need to diddle me, he lifts himself across me; positioning between my legs, arms extended, hovering above me, I rub his glans along my sopping labia, his heat radiating to me was thrilling, I wiggle his knob over my clit, before aligning him to my entrance.

Our eyes meet, both lusting, communicating silently, but yelling to continue.

He presses his bulbous head in.

I groan, damn near climaxing; but I know what is about to happen is gonna be so damn good I don't want to cum yet; I want this to last, to be memorable, to set the standard for all future fornication.

His mouth nibbles my left nipple, as he holds his hips steady. I writhe upward trying to have him bury deeper, but he lifts as well, maintaining only his glans in me, his corona keeping my most sensitive nerve receptors on high alert, those nearest my opening. Gawd this man knows what he's doing.

I open my mouth to beg him to fuck me hard; but no words come out. I know he is in full control; he has me as a puppet on a string, and anything I beg for or ask for would be futile, he has his plan; he's contemplated this moment for years.

He allows me to feel another couple inches, and gently rocks several times, with just that amount.

He gently rocks his hips, it's incredible, he seems to know me better than I know myself; any faster I'd be climaxing.

He shoves that thick tongue as far back to my throat as it reaches, I moan, I'm on the precipice of screaming.

He holds still again, I groan, excruciating and titillating together. A few more easy, steady strokes, then as if gauging how much I could take, he eases in a little more.

I groan, my nails rake his back, I am unravelling, if he strokes faster, or plays with my clit, I'd cum instantly, but he is intentionally stringing me out... and I must admit... I'm luvin it.

I sigh a profound expression of my ecstatic emotions as he presses into me a slight bit more. He doesn't thrust; he rotates his hips in a circular motion. Gawd it is sensational; I lightly bite his shoulder, my legs wrap around his hips, and I lock my ankles, I twerk trying to get more action in my pussy; to no avail.

Very few people have located my g spot, but I swear Jamal's cock has a radar locating device, because his knob was quickly there, rubbing against my g, he starts a short jabbing motion; short deliberate strokes so his corona rubs my most sensitive spot.

That did it, I explode, a tsunami of emotions and sensations combined with static electricity that crashes through me and reverberates.

OHHH, OHH, uuhhh, oohh ggaaqawd; JAAAHHH, AAHHH MMMAAAAHHH, AHHH, AAHHHLLLL!"

Allowing myself to embrace the lustful passion sweeping over me like a tidal wave, I match his thrusts, gawd he has my pussy stretched, full, and yet somehow craving more. He is finally fucking me, wonderful steady thrusts, I continue to orgasm.

Jamal somehow knew I needed his tongue in my mouth, and we swirled, our tongues dancing, searching each others' mouths as I continue quivering my orgasm controlling me, I'm moaning, gasping for breath.

His relentless stroking pushes me past another shivering climax. I hug him with all my extremities as hard as I can, as I convulse from the intense trembling, tingling pleasure he is creating to rebound around inside me.

I don't know when Gaston quit taking pictures, but I feel his hairy body behind Jamal.

Jamal lifts his face from mine, arches his back and winces slightly. His facial expression changes dramatically, I feel his hips moving, but it isn't his muscles doing it; Gaston is sodomizing Jamal.

Jamal's eyes roll back, he grunts, and his cock starts twitching in me; I feel his hot jism squirting deep in me.

I shake again; he shivers, he has several short, tiny body spasms, while we share another orgasm. Gasping he falls onto me, I feel his hips jerk several more times and Gaston emits a loud undiscernible animal noise.

It is at least a full minute before anyone really moves after this erotic event.

Jamal rolls aside, gasping.

Once more Gaston is eager to gather all the salty cream he can and hastily cleans Jamal. Once he has licked and sucked Jamal; I open my legs and point to my pussy. I had a hunch, Gaston wouldn't be interested, but Jamal doesn't require an invite he goes down on me hungrily, and he is equally as talented at cunninglingus as he is at missionary fucking, and I have yet another staggering O.

Jamal was eager to start posing, Gaston refused to work both series simultaneous, he wanted to focus on my individual group, then, likely next month, we would begin the couple series.

Gaston and I agreed to meet 7 to 10 pm, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays, so, I had no conflict of banking or dancing hours.

I left with Jamal, we went for supper to catch up on life's happenings, he came to my place after for drinks.

I was late getting to my bank job Monday morning, but I went with a spectacular satisfied smile pasted on my face that wouldn't leave, and I'm sure my strut was altered, most likely slightly bow legged.

Monday Gaston poses me for our first set, with the focus on my pubes and vulva. I am standing with my right foot slightly pointing outward, elevated on a pillow, hands on my hips.

I am extremely aroused just from posing nude, my entire body trembles with desire as Gaston traces his fingers along the curve of my waist and hip.

We discuss a working title, 'Heart throb' seems to be the one.

I know Gaston is teasing me, because rearranging my pubes several times isn't necessary, he can just paint them in whatever direction he chooses.

He uses a clean paintbrush to stroke my pubes, like he is changing the color of my pubes while aligning them. Then he teases my labia, tenderly edging my lips with the fine, soft brush hairs. My body quivers at the divine sensations.

Involuntarily, I slightly bend my knees and sigh, his left hand glides up the back of my leg, delicately over my bum, fingers dangerously close to my back door star; continuing a lingering path up from the small of my back lightly raking his nails, sending shivers along my spine. I knew he wanted me; but I also knew Jamal was waiting for me, and that's who I wanted.

"Gaston, remember you said, only if I ask you to; that sex is not a requirement. Well, I'm thrilled, horny, but Jamal is waiting for me. So, let's call it a night."

Monday night with Jamal was equally as satisfying as Sunday; Jamal showed me even more ways to make passionate love.

Tuesday morning, I struggled but made it to work on time.

Jamal was going to pick up the 2 large mirrors and install them.

Jamal and I were invited to Mom and Dads for supper.

Barely inside the door and Mom ran to Jamal, jumping up, wrapping her arms and legs around him and gives him a passionate kiss that is well beyond just friends.

When mom finally releases Jamal, dad steps in and they embrace and also exchange an intimate kiss, I'm agasp, stunned mouth open.

Mom gently caresses my cheek, "Sweety, when Jamal was about to graduate, you were already at college; we couldn't let him go to college an uneducated virgin. We spent a few nights a week together until we taught him everything we know."

Mom took advantage of my stunned position and cups my breast, likely expecting me to submit; it jolted me from my trance. I slap her hand away.

"Well congratulations Mom, I commend you and dad on you doing such a tremendous job, Jamal truly is fantastic lover. So, go ahead, enjoy him again whenever he chooses. I'll watch, but you'll never have me; as now he can do everything either of you can."

It was a bit awkward watching them in a threesome, but hey, I had them all panting watching me when they were fucking each other.

Friday night at the club, after some discussion, and explaining Jamal was a stripper, we made my boss a proposal to let Jamal take Marlene's place in my dance routine; he agreed.

Saturday night the club is packed, a rowdy, boisterous crowd.

It is the final number of the night. I am in my red gown sitting on the chair at the side of the stage with the spotlight on me.

Jamal's standing behind me in a tux, symphony music is playing. Jamal uses the gold knobbed cane sliding it down my cleavage, I widened my legs and tilted my body, as it continues lower.

When the knob reaches my crotch, I tip my head back and Jamal kisses me. He put my hand around the small end of the cane and began a slow rhythm of about a four-inch stroke.

His fingers slipping both sides of my gown off my shoulders, lowering the shiny fabric so both my breasts are exposed. A tender neck nibble as he circles his palms over them until my nipples are protruding.

He lifts me from the chair, the dress falls to my ankles, the cane still in my thong, the crowd erupts. Jamal turns me to face him, lifts the knob from my thong, tossing the cane aside; he instantly rips his tux away, it is a stripper costume with easy opening Velcro.

We're both nearly naked, Jamal's muscular body appears naked, as he is wearing a dark chocolate cock sock, matching his skin tone.

He throws me in the air like a ballerina, holding me above his head with one arm he twirls. When he lets me drop, both my legs are on top of his shoulders, my crotch in his face, my arms hugging his head.

His hands gripping my waist, I fall back, arch my body back until my hair touches the stage, my boobs and body fully on display for the audience. Jamal dances to centre stage, wiggles his head as if muff munching me furiously. Even upside down, I could see the bills being thrown. Jamal spun again and lowers me, my legs around his torso.

Firmly holding my waist, straightening his arms, moves me outward, he tipped back so the crowd could see my hand reach down, lifting his manhood, then he tightened our embrace, seemingly entering me.

Jamal walks around bouncing me, then goes to the chair, sits, and I give him a slow twerking, hip grinding, lap dance.

The spotlight dims, the stage lights lower.

Jamal and I sit on the edge of the stage, legs dangling, men were shoving to get close enough to touch; not just me, many were tucking bills in Jamal's crotch.

The lights came up, there isn't enough security to restrain the patrons trying to grope us, so security jumps on stage and literally drags us back from the edge.

I earned double that night compared to any previous occasion.

Best part of all; I fellow in an expensive suit came to the dressing room when we were fucking; he offered us a huge sum of money to star in porn movies.

Our posing for Gaston took longer than originally planned, as every time Jamal touched me, we fornicated; Gaston didn't complain because we allowed him to occasionally join in.

Jamal decided to take a year off college, and we accepted the porn offer.