xxx-There’s Money Where My Mouth Is

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By Lauren McAllister

My husband (Derek) and I have been married for 20 years. We raised a pretty special son (now off in college) and a geriatric cat that sort of pretends to tolerate us. It’s been a pretty good relationship but I don’t think we’d win the Jessica Simpson Award for passion or lovemaking. We’d pretty well settled into that “couple of times a month” routine. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t have a robust and satisfying sex life. I just had it with myself. Regular and exhaustive masturbation sessions ensued; the second hubby left the house. It’s one of the main reasons I decided to give him a dog for his last birthday.

I had a number of beloved masturbatory rituals. If I was in a hurry, battery-powered devices were employed to bang out five or six quick ones while Derek was mowing the lawn or cleaning up whatever I’d spilled in the driveway. Ooops!

When I was afforded sufficient “private time”, I eschewed modern technology and treated myself to a little old fashioned self-romance. My favorite “me evening” was lying down with big glass of wine and a very dirty book with all my clothes off. Head up, legs spread, novel in hand and wine in tummy. Now matter my degree of libidinous impatience, I’d force myself to read a minimum of one chapter before allowing a very naughty hand to take liberties against my probity. My nipples would become enlarged and rigid in an attempt to fend off these untoward advances but it only emboldened their unseemly assailant. Those poor defenseless breasts are prodded and pinched and teased until they veritably glow red with abject horror and shame. Slowly and salaciously these frighteningly forward fingers depart my downy duo to venture ever-lower to the epicenter of carnal debasement. The provocative words before me are absorbed at a quicker pace as my heavenly mound plumps to the point to bursting. Though the very core of my being cries out for satiation, I vow to refrain from quelling my bliss bubble’s “need for speed” for one more page. Nothing can be touched, tortured or tickled until I have completed this literary task. Ultimately, modesty and virtue fall prey to prurience and desire. My wet and slippery inner flesh is rent asunder by a hungry hand intent of ravaging the very heart of my womanhood. I dig deeper into the sordid tale and ever-deeper into the aching chasm of unspeakable depravity below me. As the story devolves into salacious and explicit obscenity, I swirl my drenched fingers about faster and faster like insane dancers. It’s becoming hard to focus now. The indecent words before me begin to lose all meaning. My eyes beg to close as wave after wave of spasm-inducing pleasure overwhelms my brain and ocular nerves. I force myself to read on though it might as well be in Swahili. My pussy clenches so hard it would crack open Brazil nuts. I’m blind. The book drops from my hand as all voluntary bodily functions cease. I moan. I blaspheme. I contort. Although the sensations threaten to set me alight, I plunge my fingers inside me to their very hilt. My uterus starts contracting to the size of a pea. My fallopian tubes feel like they’re twirling around like helicopter blades within my torso. The relentless barrage of sensual swells and climactic convulsions emanating from my engorged love nub cause vast streams of cunty liquids to be jettisoned from deep within me. These erotic eruptions soak my sheets and inner thighs as I thrash about in a bestial orgasmic frenzy. When these cummy cluster-bombs finally surcease and sense and reason begin to slowly return to my ravaged body and battered brain, I reach over and take another sip of wine. And repeat as needed.

I so dearly love wanking, but at some point, I felt like there had to be more to life and sex than just me and a pile of Dailia Daudelin novels. Perhaps if I got a job, I could have a torrid affair with my boss. My real problem in seeking employment was that I didn’t have any obvious marketable skills. “To probably have sex with you” is almost never the appropriate answer to “Why do you want this job” on the application form. I considered trying my luck as a waitress, but then you get all hot and sweaty, and who really wants to get fucked bent over some filthy food counter? And the guys who run restaurants – no offense but – they’re all pretty portly and food stained. If I was going to go out and find myself a lover, I wanted an upgrade from Derek, not to end up spreading them for an assistant manager at Domino’s Pizza. Oh, if only I hadn’t dropped out of that typing class in high school.

Well, when one is desperate and lost, the only place to turn is Craig’s list (And no, I wasn’t looking for NSA, 420 friendly, can host.). To be honest, it was all a little depressing. Who knew that you needed so many qualifications just to be considered for a completely shit job. And there was no guarantee, even if I did get hired, that the boss man would be a hunk…or even a man.

And then I saw it. Good pay (that was right in my ball park). No experience necessary (I had that in spades!). I could start immediately. Time to go out and buy a nice dress for my job interview.

The company’s headquarters wasn’t exactly in the nicest section of town. Or much to look at. It was more of an old warehouse that had been converted into a studio and a few offices. I was there on time. Potential bosses like that. When I got to the office however, the person conducting my job interview made discount fast food proprietors look like Greek Gods. Mr. Moldo was fat and chewing on a cigar and…I mean, Yuck! Still, I was there, I might as well listen to what he had to say.

“So Mrs. Davenport, what makes you want to be a fluffer?”

“I’m not quite sure what one is,” I replied honestly with a shrug. “I know you’re in the ‘Adult Entertainment’ business, but that’s about all.”

“How old are you?”

“Is that important? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be appearing in your movies, or videos or whatever you call them these days.”

“Age?”

“35,” I bold-face lied

“That’s a little old for this job.”

I was stunned. Imagine if I had told him my real age. “Well, how old was your last fluffer?”

“23.”

“Oh.”

Moldo shrugged and put his smoldering cigar down on his desk. Not in an ashtray, right on top of the wood. “Listen, you seem like you’re a nice lady, so I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Well, thank you. I won’t let you down, Mr. Moldo.”

He walked around the front of his desk and unzipped his pants. “Good. Good. Now get down on your knees and suck my cock.”

“Pardon!?” I was a little shocked. I hadn’t expected that sort of come-on until I’d been working at the company for several weeks.

“Listen, you want to be a fluffer. Your job will be to keep the male stars erect between takes and/or the female stars wet. That will require you to provide oral stimulation or any other type of stimulation they request, instantly and without reservation. Got that?”

“I’d be a professional cocksucker?”

He raised an eyebrow and considering how big and bushy they were – it must have taken quite a bit of effort. “There’s another broad coming in for this job in half an hour. What’ll it be?”

I don’t know why but I licked my lips as I thought. That’s what a fluffer did? “Well,” I reasoned, “I suppose I could say yes now and change my mind about the position later.” I just didn’t feel like getting back on the bus right away.

So, I got down on my knees in front of him. His penis was far from an attractive one. It had a really big floppy foreskin over the head. It felt really weird and worm-like when I took it into my mouth. It was a little gross.

“Now, when you’re sucking-off the actors on set, they won’t cum in your mouth. But I’m going to.”

His oversized underpants were not very pleasant smelling and he only had them pulled down just below his balls. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pumped it gently while I tongued the underside of the nobby bit. I hadn’t given poor Derek a blowjob since Christmas and here I am bobbing my head up and down on this distasteful gentleman’s wiener. He grabbed my skull at one point and shoved it down hard. I could feel the end of his cock smash against the back of my throat. How I didn’t gag and puke, I’ll never know but I managed to keep going. I added extra suction and tickled his big hairy nuts. There was a little moan. Again he pushed me down till I almost choked. “Don’t stop now,” I told myself. “All this revolting cock sucking will have been for nothing if you don’t make him come.”

Another minute of intense head work and I could feel his orgasm start to rise. Moldo’s hairy, sweaty legs began to tighten. He had two big handfuls of my hair and was thrusting his dick into me like I had a vagina on the top of my neck. “Grunt. Grunt. Ahhhh!” and sploosh! A torrent of jism poured out of him and coated my tongue and teeth. It tasted foul (God knows what he’d been eating) but I had done it. Even at my age and with almost no practice, I could still make a man shoot his load down my esophagus. I hadn’t lost a step! While swallowing his deposit was about as enjoyable and tasty as ingesting industrial waste, I did it with a smile on my face. Sometimes we girls have to stoop to this kind of sexual flim flammery to convince the swain in question that he isn’t a sexually repellant mutant. I kept smiling and waited for his adjudication.

Moldo, the sexually repellent mutant, wiped the last few droplets of his toxic spunk onto my chin and pulled his pants back up and told me I had the job. His secretary then showed me to the change room. Well, the strip room is more like it. I was ordered to take off all my clothes and put on a short, thin robe and then report to the director.

“How old are you?” he queried, looking at me in rather a puzzled way.

“Old enough to suck a cock!” I cheerfully replied.

He shrugged and told me to go and stand beside the cameraman. I became totally absorbed in what was going on. In the first take of the morning, this really dishy guy was banging this rather obvious blond. And gosh, did he have a big one! It really is amazing to me how we little women can take a giant Johnson like that up into our tiny, tender quims. And blondie took it all the way up. Of course, from the noises she was making, I wasn’t quite sure whether she was in physical ecstasy or was having her vital organs pulled out through her hoo-haw.

“Cut!” the director called. “I want to change the camera angle.”

“Fluffer!” the male star called out. It took a second or two to realize he meant me. I walked nervously over to him. He was gorgeous and unbelievably buff but his mighty baton was already beginning to recede.

“Hey mom, I think it’s time you took off that robe and got to work.” He pointed to his shrinking, but still massive manhood.

It was right about this time that it occurred to me, “Oh my God! I’m going to be naked in front of a room full of 20-year-old strangers. And suck a cock!” I tried to will my tits to hang a little less low as I reluctantly removed my garb.

“Ah, mom…” he prodded me gently.

I smiled wanly and dropped to my knees. My blush was so intense; I thought it was going to set my hair on fire. Everyone was looking at me. I don’t think those young assholes had ever seen a naked body as old as mine. I didn’t really have much time to reflect on the injustice of time. Before I knew it, this droopy submarine sandwich-sized penis had parked itself on top of my tongue. Ewww, his dick was all wet. Well, blondie’s pussy was right next to my ear, so it wasn’t hard to figure out where all that moisture had come from. Johnny (not his real name) was longer soft than Derek with a raging hard-on (not that it really raged that often). I took a breath and closed my lips around his mammoth mahogany (Well, at least he’d been circumcised.).

“Three minutes!” I heard the director call.

Nothing to be done now but to go to town on Johnny’s lap lumber. I sucked and licked and stroked that man-mass like a woman possessed. A slight problem. When it started to grow in my mouth, it felt like I had that creature from Alien inside my head. It just got bigger and bigger. I was worried my jaw was going to lock around his knob and they were going to have to call the paramedics to free me. Just when I thought I might have to chew through it – like a fox caught in a leg-trap – it mercifully stopped growing. I’m a forty-year-old woman. I have been on the business end of a fair number of boners in my time, but this fucker was definitely out of my league. Fortunately, the director called for action and I carefully removed myself from Johnny’s love log.

I barely had my robe on when I was asked to doff it again.

“Brock is going to DP her in the next scene. Suck him now.”

It went on like that all day. Suck this guy’s cock. Suck that guy’s cock. Let him stick his finger up your ass. My body was at their total disposal and nothing was off limits. By the end of the shooting, my jaw was sore as hell and my bum-hole had been exceedingly poked. At six o’clock, Moldo came over (absolutely no pun intended) to me and handed me four hundred dollars in cash. “The actors seem to really like getting sucked-off by an old broad. You can come back tomorrow.”

Well, what girl could turn down a compliment and an off like that? When I got home, I was so horny I screwed Derek’s ass off on the floor of our kitchen (and no, I did not warm him up with any oral). He seemed very happy with his tryst upon the tile and the 200 dollars I earned at work (Hey, I think I deserved to keep a little something for my trouble, don’t you?).

Than night, I rubbed a little Aspercreme into my temporal bone and fell asleep trying to decide what outfit I was going to take off for work in the morning.

When I got to the studio, everyone waved and called me “Mom”. It was kind of nice. While I was taking off my clothes, one of the actors came in and gave me a cup of coffee. It was the only non-cylindrical thing I had in my mouth until lunchtime.

You shoot a lot of scenes in a day in Adult Films so I was practically rushed off my knees. No sooner had I taken one big swollen dick out of my mouth, than I had another plopped into it. They were very nice people though and I didn’t mind being totally debased and objectified in front of them. Being reduced to three holes and some tits was actually a huge turn-on. Plus a piece of primo junk was attached to every hunk. These cocks were works of art and the guys were so buff, I almost felt like I should be paying them. Again, I went home and fucked the stew out of my husband’s tureen (this time in our walk-in closet). Plus, I gave him another 200 bucks. I’m sure I had him wondering why he hadn’t sent me off into the working world years ago.

The next week, I ate my first pussy since college. Well, it sure beat being hit in the head by a train, if you know what I mean. I’m far from a flaming lesbo but going down on these girls was soooo much fun (that pretty well sounds like I’m a flaming lebso, doesn’t it?). It was easy on the jaw and you’re allowed to make them cum. I could pull out all the oral stops. I just loved it when they grabbed my head and rode my face like it was a Sybian machine. The crew stuck a gold star on “mom’s” tits for every time I got one of the ladies off. I put them in a little scrap book and told Derek they were office awards for perfect typing.

About two months into my dream job (or would it be a “wet dream job”?), I had the most remarkable day of my life. When I got to the studio, the set was completely dark. I thought I’d mixed up the shooting schedule. Then POP! The lights blasted on and I was confronted by 37 naked people yelling “SURPRISE!” How they ever found out it was my birthday, I still don’t know. There was a big banner and a cake a throne, which I was supposed to sit in. They all sang “Happy Birthday Mom” and popped open bottles of the cheapest champagne I have ever tasted. While I sipped on my flavor-challenged bubbly, Jade went down on me. Another couple of the ladies sucked on my boobage as I tried to take it all in. Then I stopped trying to take it all in and came like a truck driver with his dick stuck in the cigarette lighter. Well, the secret was out now. Everyone knew that Mom was a squirter. Somebody put a gold star on my head and I was escorted over to the studio bed. The girls lay me down flat on the mattress and pulled my legs apart. All the boys lined up in order or size (smallest to largest) and Adrianna played fluffer for the occasion. Each took a turn crawling on top of me and fucking me to orgasm (Blush! With some of these impressive men, it didn’t take very long at all). I’d cum, my male servicer would gently pull out, Lacie slapped another gold star on my forehand and the next stud would slide inside me. Johnny was last (and for very good reason). I looked down in absolute amazement as my tiny little pussy began to swallow his massive shaft. He was so careful and considerate, it almost didn’t matter that I was being stretched to the point of tearing right up the middle. That monstrous man mast was utterly excruciating. I thought my eyes were going to pop out and I had barely taken in his turnip-sized tip. It was hard to breath, the sensation was so overwhelming. Even a couple of the crew looked a little concerned as my amateur vagina swallowed up his last four or five thick inches. Then, something deep, deep inside of me seemed to give way and all things physical suddenly felt a hell of a lot better. In fact, it was out of this world wonderful. I clamped my ankles onto the back of his hamstrings and started riding him towards the holy land. Unspeakable sounds and words were being forced out of me by the jackhammer I had stuffed up into my goo hole. My eyes rolled back in my skull. My tongue lolled around in my mouth like a drunken snake. The lights in the room dimmed as all the blood in my cranium made a mad dash towards my exploding pud. POW! It hit me like a shotgun blast. They were going to have to find a much bigger star to mark this climax because it was off the charts. My stomach muscles clenched so hard I thought they were going to shatter like a Walmart flat screen TV. The devastating spasms had my tiny frame bouncing up off the bed despite the fact that I had 200 pounds of prime beef pounding away on top of me. Just as the orgasmic seizures were beginning to ebb, Johnny lets out this cute little grunt and fills me up with about a quart of his jizz (well, that how it felt). The entire room started clapping and whooping. When I finally got my legs to stop shaking, I got up and took a bow. Moldo said if I ever wanted to perform in front of the camera, he’d triple my salary. I graciously declined.

I’ve been working at Pork ‘n Babe Studios for six months now, and I’ve loved every minute of it. In fact, my sweet Johnny and I have been having a little “thing” on the side. Only on Saturday and Sunday of course, because he needs all his sperm during the week for “the money shot.”

Derek is as happy as my clam. He gets way more sex than a man of his age and appeal deserves and if he ever gives me any trouble….I had Jasmine fuck him on our wedding bed while Raymond videoed the whole think through our window. It’s good to have friends in low places.

Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister

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