I pulled back, spluttering as the fresh geyser of white cream exploded out of thick rod of flesh which was poking out of a four inch hole in the wall. It caught me by surprise since I thought he was already done, the first spurt going down my throat easily, and when I had swallowed and gone for my post orgasmic suck, an official Breanne trademark, the second blast had caught me during a breath. Now I was covered with spunk and it was dripping off my chin, down my chest and into my cleavage, already permanently staining both my halter top and the khaki shorts I was wearing. I sighed in exasperation, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
The cock in front of me was already disappearing back into the hole it had emerged from ten minutes before and I came up off my knees, aching just a little from having been down there for so long. Admittedly, I was still tense, and with one cock left to go before I was able to leave, the variety of particular sensations I was feeling was tangible. To start off with, I wasn’t feeling that good. It was my time of the month (TOTM) and I was enduring the standard cramping that went along with Eve’s curse. And that just made the pressure more difficult to bear, because thanks to some poorly worded taunting that morning, I had my vibrator clamp attached to my clit, the actual motor casing wedged between my panties and the maxipad I was wearing. I don’t want to get into the yuckier aspects of my TOTM, so let’s just leave it at that, shall we? I wasn’t following NHPS Rule #1, since I never do during my TOTM, and it was bad enough dealing with the low level buzz of the vibrator clamp chewing on my clitoris.
I sat down on the floor across from the glory hole and waited, my mouth turned down in a grimace as I looked down at my clothing. My halter top was quite misshapen, the result of one nipple being pierced with a gold hoop, through which a small golden padlock hung, the outline quite visible, while the other nipple sported a standard wooden clothespin under the cloth. The clothespin was quite uncomfortable and was serving as a reminder that some other people needed to get their asses in gear. Why I was the one getting punished for it, I can only say that I understood it. I took a deep breath and winced. I was getting pretty close to another clitoral orgasm, my fifth since I’d first put on the vibrator clamp, the little duck bill mouth catching hold of my clit. All in all, it sent a plethora of vibrations up through my delicate folds, doing all sorts of things that didn’t seem to mix well with the fact that I was cramped, cranky, sarcastic and just a little irritable.
I grabbed a bit of tissue and attempted to mitigate some of the sloppy damage to my halter, but it was a lost cause and there was enough spilled cum on me that I was going to need a hosing, or at least a long, hot shower, just to get it all off. Closing my eyes I tilted my head back, praying that things would move along quicker. The small bathroom I was in was a single, private stall, one of those out-of-the-way spots that very few people know about. It’s technically in an antique mall in west Houston, out on I-10 just west of the Tollway. There’s this metal plate with loose screws that generally cover the hole, with a trash can on the men’s side. So if you are an opportunist like me, you go in the restroom, unscrew the plate, put it aside, and then push the trashcan out of the way. This tells the guys that you’re available. And sure enough, a line of needy men, each willing to stick his cock through the hole, not knowing what was on the other side, appeared.
I also felt a bit bad about taking their money. It was standard practice to offer a twenty dollar bill per blowjob and since the protocol is simple, I didn’t want to screw with things too much. So I was already two hundred bucks richer, which was good, because I was going to need new shorts and a new shirt. Sigh… I should really remember to strip naked for these kinds of things.
I heard the door of the men’s room open and saw the light flick on through the hole. There was a pair of pants in there and then movement. Crawling forward, ignoring the impending need in my loins, I approached the hole and stuck my fingers through, scratching the wall slightly with my nails. It drew the appropriate attention and a moment later I felt something papery in my hand. I pulled my fingers back through the hole and sure enough, another twenty dollar bill appeared before my eyes. I put it aside with the others and got ready.
It didn’t take long, maybe ten seconds, before another large and quite thick cock emerged through the hole. I started off with a moist towellette, wiping him down and making sure I didn’t see anything disturbing like genital warts or herpes or something like that. Then, assured he was relatively clean and healthy, I gingerly licked the tip of his cock, my fingers wrapped around the base, as close to the wall as possible. Since the partition between the restrooms was practically a single sheet of drywall, I had a lot of freedom and in seconds I was bobbing my head back and forth on his shaft, my knees once more planted firmly on my little foam pad.
What can I say? I cum prepared.
It didn’t take long, but I’m not sure if it’s just that I’m a good cocksucker or whether he was just really horny. I managed to catch most of his cream, swallowing like a good little nympho humiliation pain slut, and when he pulled back I moved backward, unable to deal with the vibrations between my legs any more. I shuddered as a sixth clitoral orgasm hit me, my clit feeling like it was caught between a grinder and a piece of sandstone. I still exploded, shivering, with one hand pressed between my legs, trying to mitigate the chaffing and incessant rub of the vibrator clamp.
Fortunately there hadn’t been any new clients come in while I was doing my impersonation of a bowl of gelatin. With another shudder I climbed to my feet and gathered up my earnings and my foam pad and quietly exited the restroom, leaving the door opened like I found it. A guy was just about to go into men’s restroom and he gave me an astonished look, followed by a disappointed smile. I gave him a wink and then headed to my truck as fast as my cute little legs could carry me. The vibration between my legs was laced with some serious discomfort and it was making me horny again, which wasn’t a good thing, especially when combined with the cramps.
In the truck I was able to silence the vibrator clamp and I put my forehead on the steering wheel. Finally steady enough to drive, I pulled out my cell phone and placed a call as I pulled out onto the frontage road.
“Hello?” My dad’s voice said into my ear.
“Hey, Dad!” I said with false cheer. “How’s it going?”
There was a momentary pause and then he replied. “Not bad, I suppose. How are you feeling?”
I shrugged and got on the freeway. “I’m okay, but I was wondering if you would be willing to come to the hardware store with me?” It wasn’t that odd of a request. I’d done it before and my dad loved getting out of the house whenever he could. But it took a lot of effort on his escort’s part, and it generally meant using the truck so we could throw his walker in the back. My dad isn’t old, but he was nailed by a drunk driver who practically crushed his leg. It didn’t break him emotionally, but it meant his days as a farmer were over. I’d stepped in to help him and my mom, but it’s been hard. On all of us.
“Sure. I’d love to get out. When you coming to get me?”
I glanced at my watch. “I’ll be there in about twenty. Can you be ready?”
“Sure thing.” Then he hung up on me. So I headed home.
The redhead who pulled up in front of the farmhouse smiled as the man with the walker shambled out to meet her. He wasn’t old, merely infirm, his leg a withered husk that could barely support his weight. Elsewhere he was still strong and powerful, his thick arms easily enough to lift and push himself forward. He would balance on his one good leg, lift the walker and move it forward, then lever himself in the same direction. He wasn’t fast, but he was able.
The truck came to a stop right by him and he opened the passenger door, hopping up into the cab even as he tossed his walker into the bed of the truck. As he settled in the seat, he looked over at the pretty redhead behind the wheel. She was wearing a pair of short shorts that showed off her long legs, as well as a revealing halter top that seemed to emphasize her quite interesting décolletage. She had breasts any man could gladly get lost between and she knew it.
On the other hand, her shirt and shorts were a mess, splattered and stained as if she’d been eating a hamburger and a packet of mayonnaise had exploded in her hand. Dried fluids caked her cleavage and her clothes were in all likelihood ruined.
“Been busy?” He asked with a lifted eyebrow. She grinned, putting the truck into gear and turning the wheel sharply. Gravel shot out from beneath her tires as she spun around the courtyard in a circle and then headed back out toward the Farm to Market Road at the edge of the property.
They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. She turned left instead of right and ten minutes later they passed the fresh sprawl of suburbia leaking out into the south Texas farm country. But beyond that they saw more undeveloped land, still used for ranching, as well as a few plowed fields.
She turned sharply at one dirt road. It led into a field, toward a dilapidated, pint sized barn and she was able to pull up to it. He gave her a somewhat satisfied smirk and climbed out of the truck, grabbing his walker at the same time. He moved into the shade of the barn as she closed the driver door. She waited for him to disappear into the darkness. Then she took off her shirt. She tossed it over the side of the truck bed, her luscious boobs bouncing deliciously, the tiny gold hoop piercing flashing in the sun. A small gold padlock hung from the nipple, embossed with a black rose. She stuck her hand down the front of her shorts, forced to unsnap the button in order to get at the small, vibrating clamp that was attached to her clit. When it was buzzing delightedly, she took a deep breath and then opened her purse to get one more little item. With the chain in hand, she rounded the truck and went into the barn.
He was waiting for her, his jeans and boxers lying next to him on an ancient bale of hay. His cock was already rock hard, sticking up and throbbing with need. His eyes locked onto her chest, enjoying the sight of her bare breasts as she approached. She closed the distance and held out her hand. In the palm was a set of clover clamps, the steel chain between them coiled loosely. He grinned and took them, manipulating the steel pincers and lifting each one to her delicate nipples.
In seconds she gasped as the metal jaws locked upon her tender nubs, one behind her piercing, the other merely snagging the unadorned tip. He pulled hard, just to check the set, but the clamps had been filed so that ridges increased their gripping strength. Both stayed on as the clover clamps, as was their nature, tightened even more. She hissed with the pain blossoming in her tits, but allowed him to tug and twist, pulling on her, moving her left and right by her breasts. Finally he seemed ready and dropped the chain and with her body still trembling from the vibrator that clung to her clit, and the agony in her breasts, she went to her knees.
Her lips opened as her right hand surrounded the base of his cock. With a teasing lick she began at the tip, worshiping the rod of flesh. Her other hand came up to caress his scrotum, gently making circles with each fingertip, sometimes just using her nails. It made him groan and when his hips rocked forward she let his cock drive deeper into her mouth as she began sucking. To increase the pleasure she began bobbing her head, taking him deeper and deeper as her hand pulsed around the base of his pillar.
He let out a moan, his hand coming up, snagging the chain once more, and he began tugging on it indelicately, sending shards of agony through her as she began deep-throating him, taking his length all the way to the back. Her body trembled and she realized she was losing control. Her loins had tightened, despite cramps and pain, her clitoris swelling with need and readiness. The pain at the tip of each breast was nothing more than catalyst, icing on the cake that sent her upward into spirals of clitoral orgasmic pleasure. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the task at hand, which was not her own pleasure, but his. She knew he would be displeased if she came before he did.
But it was too late. Her body was keyed up, the sensation of cock in her mouth, with the torments of vibrator and clamps too much for her fragile psyche to cope with. She let out a loud gasp, only partially muffled by the cock in her mouth, as the orgasm rocked through her. It lasted only seconds, and she didn’t even come back all the way down, but he noticed, the cessation, even if temporary, of her mouth working his cock was signal enough. He pulled her up and off his shaft using the clamp chain and he yanked her down across his lap, his hands going to her shorts.
“No! Please! It’s my time of the month!” she gasped, her mouth now free of cock.
He snorted. “Panties then,” he said, and yanked down her shorts. Her panties came with the denim material, though he didn’t pull them down any farther than necessary to expose her buttocks. His cock dug into her stomach as his hand flashed down, slapping her bare bottom hard. Pain blossomed in her rump, her breasts dangling down on the other side of his legs, almost touching the bale of hay. Her body trembled, the vibrator mashed between her clit and the thigh of his good leg. He began bouncing it, which didn’t help her, sending fresh surges of sexual stimulation through her. The spanks continued, landing with heat until finally she sobbed, one hand coming back to involuntarily cover her bottom. He caught it, then delivered a flurry of quick strokes as she kicked, her bare feet high in the air, her flip flops flying off. Then, seemingly satisfied, he pushed her off his lap.
“Try again,” he ordered.
She sniffed and nodded, straightening. Her bottom hurt abominably, the sting and heat seeping deep into her loins. Her hips thrust with the vibrating need clinging to her clitoris and her nipples throbbed in agony, crushed between the metal clamps, her heart laboring to force blood into the pinched tips of her breasts. She ignored it all and grabbed hold of his cock once more. She opened her mouth and took him in, bobbing her head, trying to focus on making him cum.
This time she was successful, long before her body was forced into orgasm a second time, his shaft spurting white cream into her mouth. She struggled to swallow it, sucking the last drop from his shaft. As he turned flaccid, she continued to pleasure him with her mouth and tongue, twitching as the vibrator sent fresh waves of sexual pressure through her loins. Her breath quickened, her chest heaving, and her hips churned as another orgasm approached. She was just moments away when he pushed her head off his manhood, and pulled her to her feet.
His fingers went to the front of her shorts and she froze, momentarily frightened of what he intended. The orgasm approached light a thundering freight train and she suddenly realized it didn’t matter what he wanted to do to her. She needed to cum. She wanted to cum! Never mind that it was her time of the month! His fingers dug into the front of her panties as she trembled and then, to her horror, he turned off the clamp vibrator and yanked it off her clit. Her body snapped and she recoiled, folding as the pain hit her. But it wasn’t enough to push her over the edge. The orgasm fizzled and she groaned as he snagged the clamp chain connecting her nipples, dragging her back toward him. Once more he laid her across his lap, his hand delivering a series of mostly half-hearted blows to her bare rump, only sufficient to heat her back up.
Finished, he pushed her off his lap again. “Get your clothes together,” he ordered her. She sniffed and nodded. Her trembling fingers tugged her panties and shorts back into position and she snapped them closed. He was already putting on his boxers and jeans and she knelt to help him with his boots. Finally he stood and with his walker, headed back to the truck. She followed, a strange sort of anemic need echoing in her blood. Her body still craved the orgasm and after helping him into the cab, she moved around to the other side of the truck, the clitoral vibrator in her hand. For half a second, she considered putting it back on, giving herself the last orgasm.
“Let’s go. Your mother will wonder if we take too long,” he said, patting the driver’s seat.
She nodded and grabbed her halter top. She reached up to take off the clover clamps, but he stopped her.
“No. Leave those on till we’re home. I like to see your boobs like that.”
She nodded and tossed the shirt into the truck and climbed in, her bare breasts on display and still horribly clamped. She started the engine and headed for home.
I pulled up in front of the house with a warm smile and I looked over at my dad. He seemed pretty pleased himself and he climbed out of the truck with relative ease, grabbing the walker out of the back and getting himself moving toward the house. I got out myself, smoothing down the clean tee shirt I was wearing. I paused for a moment though, and reached behind the driver’s seat, pulling out the pink shaded bundle of cum splattered shirt, rolled tightly around a quiet vibrator clamp, and a steel chain, capped with clovers.