Thursday, May 25, 2017

Pageants

So the place I work gets rentals all the time, and some of them are beauty pageants.  I think beauty pageants are terrible.  Just utter crap.  I know, I know, but it's my opinion and I respect others but don't agree.

We got the regional finals for Miss America a while back, and while I had a little fun ogling, it was so artificial and kind of creepy that I didn't have much fun doing it.  Plus they're kind of a pain in the ass to work.  They always want things at the last minute, they're heavy on drama, and the talent portion... oy.  Plus most of the girls are people I would have hated in high school.  It's all very plastic and I try to avoid contact with the contestants.

I was unaware, but apparently there's a Mrs. America as well, which I was warned was everything that the Miss America pageant is but more pathetic and awful.  So at a certain point in the recent past (I won't say exactly when because I don't want to give away where I am to you snoopy types who can look up recent Mrs. America pageants and figure it out, so I've been sitting on this story for a bit) we hosted the regionals for Mrs. America as well, and it was everything I'd been told it would be.

I don't want to go into the pageant itself except to say that on the one hand it was less creepy to be judging grown women rather than teenagers like slabs of meat, but on the other it was creepy in many new and exciting ways.  At least there was no talent portion because I guess married women's only talent is supposed to be popping out babies and being a good wifey.  Yes, I'm opinionated.

The women (they continued to call them "girls" even though some of them were mother of 3) weren't hard on the eye, and some of them weren't particularly plastic at all.  It seemed like maybe the caliber of attractiveness you get in Mrs. America is either faded teen beauty pageant contestant or slightly more real-looking woman, possibly because there's less competition.  There was one who looked almost normal, not statuesque, not basic bitch at all, with tattoos.  I liked her just because she looked normal.

She, of course, didn't come close to winning.  Basic bitches one and two got the high marks, and they did all the things a beauty queen should do: bland, inoffensive, easy on the eye (I'll admit they looked good) and obediently wife-ish.  Thank god it was over and I could finally go home (I had been at the theater for ungodly amounts of time, which is good because I got paid, but bad because I wanted to jam an ice pick into my head to make it stop).

So I cleaned up (I guess either these chicks left their cleaning to the "help" at home or they just didn't give a shit about it outside the home) and waited for everyone to clear out and go off and be queen-ly somewhere else on someone else's dime, and tattoo woman was backstage alone getting her things together to go.

"Thanks for all your help," she said.  I get this all the time.  I guess I appreciate it, although frequently it seems like the kind of thing you'd say to your servants, like I "helped" rather than "did everything."  But no matter.  She didn't say it nastily or anything.

"No problem.  Glad to do it."  I couldn't resist, and no one else was there.  "I thought you should have won."

"Aw, you're sweet.  Honestly, I only did this for shits and giggles.  And my husband doesn't mind me in a bathing suit getting cheers."

"Oh yeah?"  Sure, why not, converse.  She seemed nice enough.  Plus, I had to wait for her to clear out before I could lock up.

"Yeah, gives him a thrill."  She laughed.  "That's not the only thing that gives him a thrill."  Then she laughed again.  "I'm flustered, don't pay any attention."

"It's okay."  Sure, sure, it's okay.  What do I care if your husband gets off on watching you at the meat market?

"But yeah, I wasn't going to win.  These tats are not Mrs. America material."

"I think they look great."  I'm not a huge fan of tattoos.  They're fine, they just don't matter to me one way or the other.  Hers were only really interesting because she was a beauty pageant contestant and I don't think I'd ever seen such prominent ones on a beauty queen.  Pretty sure one of the other women had ink too, but it was like a little flower on her wrist or something.  This was a big one on her arm, impossible to miss.  I mostly liked it because it made her look less fake.

"Well why weren't you one of the judges?" she said.  "I mean, I don't know, I'm just not... queen material I guess."

"Me neither, sister."  Now was the time for solidarity.

"Are you kidding me?  I bet under all that you're very pretty."  Backhanded compliment.  Whatever.  She meant well, I guess.  Can't blame her for superficiality.

"Not really my scene."

"I get it.  I mean, I don't want you to think I'm Miss Plastic Fantastic either.  What's the matter, too shy to show a little skin?"

Oh sister, don't you be playing me like that.  "Hell no.  Just not my thing to parade around like that."

I think things were turning a little hostile at this point.  "It's fine.  No big deal.  Not everyone's comfortable with it."

I had to stop myself.  Because I was ready to lay into her with all the stuff I've already said in this post about pageants and a bunch of other stuff.  And frankly, it's not fair of me.  I'm judging based on things I don't really know.  I still think pageants are garbage, but I judge the audience and the organizers much more than the participants.  So instead I said, "I've been nakeder on a stage than you ever have, believe me."  Perhaps not a great riposte.  I was tired and getting a little heated.

"Okay, if you say so."  Fighting words.

"If I weren't on the clock and afraid I'd lose my job, I would be naked out there right now."  And I pulled my top off.

To her credit, she took one look in my eye and said, "Fair enough.  I get it.  Sorry.  You just came on a little judge-y."

And I felt stupid.  So I put my top back on and apologized.  Assured her that I did admire her for being herself amongst the phonies, which she appreciated.  That I had in fact been rooting for her to win.

We talked for a bit.  Nothing of consequence.  The amicable feelings were restored.  Then her husband showed up and I figured okay, finally, you can go, none of this hopefully will make it back to my place of employment, I can lock up and go home.

"You coming?" he asked her.

"Do we have to?  I don't want to spend any more time around those stupid whores and pretend like I like them."  I guess they were talking about the after-party.

Hubby was looking at me.  "Hi, I'm Garrett, Steph's husband."  Hey, way to seamlessly weave their aliases into the narrative, Lexi!  Too bad you ruined it just now...

"Hi, I'm Lexi."  We shook hands.  He was eyeing me.

"So why weren't you out on stage?" he said, a little greasily.  I couldn't really believe he was being so obviously flirtatious in front of his wife.  No, I could, but it was a little greasy.

"Someone had to make them look pretty.  Plus I'm not a Mrs. so..."

"Garrett, you dog, quit drooling over her," said Steph with a grin.  "Lexi, you pay him no mind.  He's only got one thing on his mind right now."

"Oh?  Those other things that he gets a thrill out of?"  I couldn't resist.  I was tired.  Plus I'm not going to lie, Garrett was sexy.  Probably sexier to me than his wife, who had grown considerably more attractive after having let down her facade.  What exactly was I doing here?

"Steph's been telling you stories about me?" he said, and I couldn't quite tell whether he was angry or pleased.  He smiled.  "I'm sorry.  Just... the pageant and all, makes me a little stupid.  Let me grab her stuff and we'll get out of your hair."

"To that fucking party?"  Steph looked like she wanted to drop dead.

"We ought to.  Don't want to be sore losers."

"Fuck them.  I can't stand one more minute of that bitch anyway."  Not sure which bitch she meant, but I'd wager it was either the winner, the runner-up, or possibly the woman in charge of the pageant, who was definitely in the aging-beauty-queen category.  I couldn't blame her if it were any of those options.

"Well we can't stand around here all day.  Lexi," and here he gave me a look which was straight out of a pickup manual, but whatever, "probably has places to be.  She's kicking us out."

"Alright, alright.  Can we just go out by ourselves or something?"

"I suppose."  He made it sound like he was humoring her.  Sexy, but really kind of greasy.

"Babe, you know you just want to get me alone anyway, after all that."  This was more interesting.  Yes please, tell Lexi more about this.  She's had a rough day and the best thing to wash that pageant taste out of her mouth is hearing about how you'd like to get your wife home so you can fuck her silly because you get off on watching her get eye-banged by all the other pageant husbands.  Yes please, elaborate.

"Plenty of time for that.  Got to build the anticipation, get you a little wetter..."

"Garrett, stop!"  Okay, so clearly the appreciation for pageants went both ways.  Honestly, if all pageant contestants were doing it because of fetishes, I think it would make for a much better organization.

"Sorry Lexi, like I said, pageants get me a little riled up."  And he reached over and groped her.  It wasn't super-obvious or graphic, but he was clearly doing it for my benefit as well as hers.  His hand cupped her ass and gave it a little squeeze and she giggled in spite of herself.  "What red-blooded man wouldn't get a little anxious after seeing all those gorgeous women prancing around?"

"Lexi's not interested in your dirty mind," said Steph finally, pushing him away.  I noticed that it definitely took her a force of will to push him away though.  I think if I hadn't been there, things would have definitely taken a turn for the sexy right then and there.  I love sexual tension like that.

"It's okay.  I don't mind," I said, meaning it.

"You don't say," said Steph, looking at me.  "Well, like you said, you're on the clock and we've got to get out of here."  She grabbed a bag.  "Of course, if you didn't have anywhere to be, maybe we could invite you for a drink as a thank you for making me look pretty..."

At this point, I almost said no.  I'm not going to lie and claim to be some super-human sex machine, plus there was no indication that I was going to get anything more than a drink which I would probably have to pay for and lose rest.  I was tired.  I was horny, yes, but these two seemed like to type to invite me out to further ramp up the tension and then ditch me to go fuck like rabbits while I would have just been teased and then discarded.  So I almost said no.

But on the other hand, I hadn't had any sex in days.  Work and schedules meant that Sveta and I had barely spoken, let alone anything else.  I wasn't expecting it, but horny and tired make me make decisions I wouldn't necessarily otherwise make.  If it had merely been a friendly invitation, I would have declined, but it wasn't.

"Let me lock up and I'll join you in five."  In for a penny.

All my fears seemed to be realized because we fetched up at a place which was way, way out of my price range.  I was all set to order the cheapest thing I could find, but Garrett said, "What do you like?" and then ordered and paid.  I sipped my drink.  They both downed theirs and ordered another.  And nobody said anything for a while, like we were nervous kids.

"So you don't mind a dirty mind?" said Steph finally, breaking the ice.

"I've got one.  Why should I mind someone else's?"

"My type of girl," said Garrett.  "Steph tells me you think she should have won."

So we talked about that for a bit.  And the conversation went from discussing the fact that I like genuine people (at least in beauty contests) to all of us judging the other contestants, to all of us discussing which of them we think was the craziest in the sack.  I didn't hold back, and pretty soon we were discussing the fact that I like to look at women, which led to discussing that I liked to look at men too, and they realized they had a unicorn on their hands or something because they both finished their drinks in a hurry.

"So... ever been with a couple before?" said Garrett, laying the cards I had hoped to see on the table.

"A few times."  Okay, I was lowballing that number significantly, but it wasn't the time or the place to lay out my resume.  "Why?  Are you inviting me?"  I can be blunt if blunt is the order of the day.

"Where did you come from?" asked Steph, looking a little staggered.  "I didn't see this coming."

"Neither did I," I said, truthfully.  "But you two are sexy as hell and I'd love to join you to work off some of the excitement.  I'm dripping wet."

"God, me too," she said, grinning.  "Come back to our hotel room."

I guess they were from far enough away that they had a hotel for the pageant.  I can't even remember where she was a contestant from.  Whatever.  Hotel is usually better for these sorts of things, and it meant I didn't have to go far.

I followed them to the hotel, we got through the door, and Garrett grabbed me and put his tongue down my throat.  Very forceful, but I wasn't complaining.  If anything, I slipped into subby-Lexi mode and let him maul me a little.  I felt her hands slip my top up again.  "There's that cute bra again," she said from behind me.

He broke away.  "You already saw her in her bra?  Did you two plan this?"

We both laughed.  Didn't really explain.  I pulled off my top.  "So, what's the deal?  Steph, are we...?"

"God, we've never had a girl who wanted to do that," laughed Steph.  "I don't know.  Garrett, what do you think?"

"I just want to fuck someone," he said.  "Babe, if you let me fuck her she can do whatever you want."

"I've never been with a woman before, not really."  She looked a little worried.

"Why don't we all just get naked and see what happens?" I suggested.  Because I'm in my element here.

We all did, and it was worth it.  She was probably only a little older than I was, if that.  Not slim like a girl or a model (which is probably another reason she didn't get picked) but no fat on her.  Her breasts drooped just slightly, but they were sizes bigger than mine.  A neatly-trimmed thatch of pubic hair over her pussy, nothing that would show in a bathing suit or a thong, just a landing strip or whatever people are calling it these days.

And he wasn't shabby either.  Older than both of us by a few years, a few gray hairs, but fit, tan, probably rich enough to care about his looks.  And his cock was very nice, long, thick, fully erect and just begging to be sucked.

So we did that.  Or rather, I knelt and then looked over at her and gave a little nod of invitation.  Not much more talking, until moments later he said, "Well, I hope you girls can keep each other occupied until I recover, because I'm gonna cum any second."

"Yes baby, yes!"  She was super into all of it.  If there was reluctance, it wasn't for lack of desire.  In a part of my mind that wasn't horny in the extreme, I laughed at the irony of her being shy when she'd accused me of being shy.

"Oh God girls, here it comes!"  I find play-by-play a little cliche, but in this case I didn't care as long as this wasn't it for the evening, and from what he'd said, it wouldn't be.

He backed off slightly, stroked once or twice, and shot a giant load all over both of us.  Part of me was sad I hadn't gotten that in my pussy, but then I had no reason to suspect that I would be getting any in my pussy, so I let it go and enjoyed it.

Steph looked like she was about to wipe her face off, so I stopped her and, giving a look to her husband, licked her clean.  Her eyes widened a little but she didn't stop me, and when I kissed her gently on the lips, she didn't stop me then either.  My hand slid up her thigh, introducing myself a little, and when she moaned softly and spread her legs a little, I knew I wasn't uninvited.

I dallied with her pussy for a few moments, then suggested that we'd look and feel better on the bed.  So we moved to the bed, tangled in each other because she may have been a bit shy at first but she really got into kissing me.  My finger found its way back to her cunt and I slid in.  She gasped and by God she came.  I guess pageants must really wind her up.  I felt a little cheated, honestly; I wanted to have to work for it a bit.  But she wasn't complaining, and after she finished she said, "Now I want to make you cum Lexi."

I thought about telling her that it was probably a waste of time, particularly when she said, "I have no idea what I'm doing.  I'm sorry.  But please, let me try."  But she was asking to try, and I am nothing if not charitable with those who need experience.

"Suck those cute little tits," suggested her husband from where he was watching us.

So she did.  And it wasn't bad.  For a beginner, she wasn't afraid nor did she fall prey to the various beginner mistakes.  I don't know, maybe she had had girls in the past and just didn't want to admit it.  No idea.  But her lips and tongue on my nipples made me even wetter, and when she started rubbing my slit, I just lay back and tried to cum.

Her fingering wasn't bad either.  I guess we both like the same thing in masturbation.  It still wasn't going to get me off, not easily.  "Am I doing something wrong?" she asked me after a few moments.

"God no, you're doing great.  I bet Garrett likes watching this."  She giggled.  Not school-girl giggle, understand, but it was a giggle.  "But I bet he'd like to see you eating pussy even more."  Hint hint.  Not that I held out much hope for that, since if she'd never done it before it was likely to be nothing but enthusiastic.  Still, I didn't mind her trying and the idea of it turned me on, plus I was pretty sure that I wasn't wrong and Garrett would indeed like to see his little beauty queen with her face in my pussy.

She slid down and got between my legs and started slurping away.  Shyness was totally gone.  Skill wasn't there, but it was nice.  She wasn't rough and she hit the right spots, and I'm not proud but after a few more moments, because I was tired and I just didn't feel like explaining anything, I faked an orgasm.  Just to encourage her, a little gold star.  "Oh God, you're making me cum!" I moaned, and then I did the usual orgasm things that people expect.

"That felt so good," I said.  I wasn't lying about that; it did feel good, just not orgasmic.  "Come here, let's get you ready and Garrett can stick his cock in that cute little pussy of yours."

"Oh no, I want you to eat her out and I'm going to fuck you like I promised," he said.  Okay then.  I figured that they'd want the first fuck of the evening at least, but hey, I wasn't going to argue.

He pulled out a condom.  "You don't need that unless you want it," I said.  I'd already had enough sexual contact with both of them that diseases were going to happen anyway and I never care about pregnancy.

"Really?"  He looked like she had looked when I told her I was down to fuck.  "I mean, Steph's on the pill but..."

"So am I.  And anyway, I like it better when a guy cums inside me."

Kids, don't do as I do.  Use protection.  There, PSA over.

He tossed the condom.  "Damn, where did you come from?  The other girls we've had would only let me fuck them while Steph watched and then watch us."

"You guys do this a lot?"  I didn't want to talk, but I was curious.

"A few times.  We take trips sometimes, cruises or whatever, try to pick up girls.  We paid for it a few times.  It just..."

"I get it.  No problem.  But I'm interested in sharing both of you.  And I love creampies."

"Garrett, quit talking and fuck her before she changes her mind," laughed Steph, who was lying back with her legs spread.  I finally got a better look at the main attraction.  She was tanned too, but her pussy was pink, big outer lips which were swollen and practically red, her clit standing out a little above.

"Listen to your wife," I said, grinning, and then since there didn't seem to be much point in foreplay I started licking her pussy, slowly, bottom to top.

I didn't see him get behind me but I felt him, one hand on my back, the other aiming and then I felt him press in.  God, I miss being full when I'm not.  And this was nice and full.  I was ready for him, but he pressed all the way in and I moaned.  And damn it, after two or three thrusts, my body betrayed me and I came.  I didn't announce it but he said, "She's cumming again.  Jesus Christ, that's tight."

"Is she good, baby?"

"Oh God, so good.  You warmed her little pussy up for me and now I'm taking her all the way."

There was plenty more of this.  They clearly got off on it.  I stopped listening after a while and concentrated on her, finding the sweet spot and sucking and licking, then slipping a finger, then two, up into her and making her moan and then cum again.  That was more like it.

I think he was hoping to get me to repeat, but that wasn't happening, although the first orgasm had been pretty good for me these days.  Not much pain and I didn't drop out of it.

Eventually he flipped me over and started fucking me as hard as he could, which was pretty hard, but I didn't stop him because frankly I was hoping that him ramming away might somehow get me off again.  It didn't, but I enjoyed it, and when Steph started working on my nipples again I was quite happy.

Even with all the talk about creampies, he still pulled out and said, "Come on girls, get another helping."  I guess the excitement of being able to have two women at once made him want to porn it up.  Whatever.  I really would have liked that creampie, especially since the load, when it came, was just as full as the previous.  Steph and I made out for a bit after that, groping and fingering and slobbering all over each other.

"Are you up for one more?" she asked him after a while.

"I will be in a minute."  I like a guy who's up for one more.  Even though I was sure it meant that I'd get to watch them fuck, I was okay with that too.  Honestly, my exhaustion was catching up to my horniness in a major way and I really would have been fine with leaving them to it, but that seemed rude.

"You want her to watch us?"

"I guess so."  Garrett seemed somewhat ambivalent.

"You want to fuck her again."  It wasn't a question.  I felt a bit like I was being discussed without acknowledgement.  Want to ask her if she wants to get fucked again?

"It's just so amazing watching the two of you while I'm up to my balls in her."

Pageants make you think of women as pieces of meat.  There, I said it.

"Hey Steph, why don't we get like this..."  And I wrapped her up in my arms and legs.  "And then he can switch back and forth."

"Ooh, fun!"  I have good ideas.  Steph was totally into continuing to make out with me, wrapped in each other, her on top, me underneath, and after the promised minute, Garrett came over and pressed into me again.  Then he pulled out and pressed into her, and she moaned like it was what she'd needed all this time.  I couldn't really blame her; she'd been raring for a cock the entire time and hadn't gotten one, and while I am very good at eating pussy, sometimes you just want a cock.

There was more back and forth, our pussy juices mingling on his cock, our tongues swirling, his hands all over our thighs and hips and asses.  I got a little cheeky and started stroking her asshole, and she gave me a look and then grinned and said, "Go ahead."  So I managed to get some juice on my finger and then pressed it slowly into her anus while he was fucking her, and she melted.  He saw what I was doing and said, "Oh fuck yeah," or something similar, and then reached down to her hand and moved it to my ass.

So yeah, mutual ass-fingering while being swapped was very nice.  It was a little awkward and the fucking wasn't as good as when no one had been distracted, but it was still hot as hell.

He came up after a while and let us suck him, slopping cock back from mouth to mouth, working the balls a little, until he grunted and came again.  She was close to cumming again herself, so I rolled her over and got between her legs, got a better angle on fingering her ass, and ate her out with my finger up her butt until she begged for mercy.

We had to wash up after that, and in the shower Steph and I made out some more.  She wanted to eat me out again, but I managed, without too much explanation, to convince her that I was pretty done, orgasm-wise, for the evening.  She still wanted more, I could tell, so we ran back to the bed, dripping wet, and I ate her out again.  Honestly, at this point, I was trying to make it so that any time she and her husband were together, she'd think of me.  Because I was feeling a bit spiteful at him.  Maybe he eats pussy well, but I do it better, and I was going to make her cum so hard she thought of it every time anyone else tried.  I'm not particularly proud of this, but not ashamed either.

They tried to get me to stay.  Garrett said he needed a bit more recovery but he would totally be ready to go again if I gave him an hour.  But exhaustion definitely won, so I said my goodbyes.  They said they wanted to meet up again.  I gently brushed them off.  It was fun, don't get me wrong, but I don't need to be some horny couple's unicorn.  Plus they started getting on my nerves a little.  Nothing major, just kind of was sick of them and pageants and all of it and I wanted to sleep.

Have I changed my views on pageants?  Not really.  Still don't get them, still think they're pretty creepy, still judge the audience.  And if husbands are making wives do this, then fuck them, and not in a good way.  These two seemed like they were in it for the sex, which is fine, and I didn't get the impression that she enjoyed it any less than he did.  But whatever.

1 comment:

Advizor54 said...

I'm surprised that I missed this post, but, as hot as it was, "So yeah, mutual ass-fingering while being swapped was very nice," it has the same vibe as your other pageant post, one of slight dissatisfaction in-spite of multiple orgasms and mutually shared moments as the fabled unicorn.

Having never been sought after for that role, ever, I can imagine feeling a bit disconnected when used to fuel someone else's fantasy without consideration of your own emotional needs. That sounds all touchy-feely, but my nearest comparison was when my ex-GF called me up for a quickie two days before her wedding. It was nice and all, but I got the distinct impression that she was more mad at him than she was horny for me. I was just the tool to scratch that particular itch.

Still, love your writing and your storytelling. xoxo