I dealt with the fallout from Miss Laura’s text and called my young fuck partner when I crawled out of bed and made some coffee. From the texts she sent the previous night, Kristie was pissed, feeling taunted, mistreated, and cheated on.

“I didn’t know you were into old women,” Kristie started out.

“Firstly, she’s just older than you,” I said, “second, how do you know who she is?”

“She’s a regular. Jacky saw you two. Remember her bartending last night?”

Jacky was a close friend of Kristie’s. They had both stripped for some of the same clubs over the years and Jacky was the one that got Kristie hired at my pub.

“Barely,” I lied. Jacky didn’t like me, and I honestly didn’t care. “So, you know Laurie?”

“We both do.”

I asked her what she knew about my new mistress, at least that’s how I chose to think of her, even though I didn’t know if I’d ever hear from her again.

“She’s been okay. Nice tipper for a sixty-year-old.”

“No way. Does she meet up with a lot of guys?”

“Yeah. Some real gross ones, sometimes. She must be getting desperate in her old age.”

At this point, I was getting pretty pissed off. I assumed that Kristie was just angry that I had gone home with someone else. I bit my lip and kept my cool. I explained to her that neither of us was exclusive to the other, and reminded her that Kristie had a sugardaddy that she had the sad duty of satisfying at his convenience. A good rough fucking is all that she had wanted from me.

That was the nature of our relationship and we both knew it. Kristie had the balls to tell me to stop seeing Laurie, and I flatly refused. Eventually, the phone call ended with me telling her that I would make it up to her the next day, Sunday. She agreed when she admitted to me the other man in her life was out of town with his family.

The rest of that Saturday, I couldn’t get Miss Laura out of my mind. She was magnificent in her maturity, physical allure, and her knowledge of the male anatomy. The orgasm she had unleashed had made a mess of me, and I’m not just talking about the stains on my shirt. Those came out in the wash, but I wanted Miss Laura desperately.

I took out my frustrations on myself, working extra hard and long in the gym that afternoon. The next day was Sunday, and with my mind fogged with Laura’s image, I went to Kristie’s apartment as I promised. After some rough foreplay, I cuffed my subbie to her bed and pummeled her pussy. I was on top of her in missionary position, and as she came a second time on my cock, I knew that it would be all I would get out of her. I covered her mouth and kept on until I unloaded.

The whole time, I was thinking of Miss Laura. Kristie was done, as I predicted. Her sex drive was too short for me, but I uncuffed her, peeled off my filled condom, dressed, and went home.

That night, I sent Miss Laura a text.

Me: U up?

I thought I was being cute. The text was ignored until mid-morning on Monday. I was in the office when her reply came.

Miss Laura: When I need something I’ll let you know.

Just getting a reply sent happy chills through me. I didn’t text her again, fearing that I’d push her away. The rest of the work week went by achingly slowly. I waited and tried to just focus on my routine: home, gym, office, repeat.

Friday night, I went to the pub. Kristie was bartending and wouldn’t get off until two in the morning. I drank my beers slowly, keeping an eye on the door for Miss Laura and checking my phone constantly. Kristie noticed.

“Looking for the old Amazon?” she shot at me on her way by with some patrons’ brews.

“Fuck you, Kristie.”

She set the two beers down in front of the people at the end of the bar and flipped me off. I paid for the two I had and left. No tip.

I met up with Kristie the following Tuesday and gave her the treatment she wanted so desperately. Her sugardaddy had stayed with her a couple of days and had done his one-pump-and-done routine on her again with his below average-sized dick. That night, with my fingers wrapped around her throat, not tightly, but enough that it gave her a thrill, she orgasmed on my thick rod her usual two times. I made her suck me off the rest of the way, dumping my load all over her face.

Miss Laura still haunted me, and it was her face I saw in place of Kristie’s. I went home and continued my routine. A week and a half later, Friday afternoon, at 1:30-ish, I got the text I yearned for.

Miss Laura: Get over here by 3.

Me: I’m at work. Might not get out of here by then.

Miss Laura: 3 or never, Flyboy.

Fuck, I thought and then said okay. I’d work it out and I did, though I’d be working on reports all weekend. Miss Laura texted a grocery list after that, including a couple bottles of wine. I needed to get all of it, requiring stops at two places, and get to her house no later than three p.m.

Forty-five minutes and almost two hundred dollars later, I was back in my car and on the way to Miss Laura’s.

At a couple minutes before three, I rang the bell and Miss Laura, looking more like just plain Laurie in a robe and white silk pajamas let me in. Even without makeup and her wet hair, I was stricken by her natural beauty. She looked more like a middle school teacher getting ready for her day, but definitely one I would have ached for as a boy.

She ordered me in and shut the door behind her. She walked past me without a word, drying her hair with a towel. She smelled wonderful but had not put on that mystical perfume yet. I quickly walked behind her like a teenager following his crush. Her hips swayed underneath the robe and my dick began to respond.

“Put the stuff away,” she ordered and pointed out where the items were to be stored. “Then we need to talk. Bring the wine downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Yes, Miss Laura,” I said, trying to make that sultry note in my voice. She didn’t seem to notice as she left the kitchen.

I put the groceries away and almost ran down the stairs. When I got there, she was no where in sight. “Miss Laura?”

“In the changing room. Come in here.”

I went to the back of the basement and opened the door. I found her sitting at front of a dressing table and mirror, about to take a hair dryer to her wet head. I entered and looked around. It was lined with a collection of dominatrix outfits hanging on a wheeled rack. Most looked like the black vinyl dress she wore during our first encounter, but with little variations in design and colors. Lining the floor beneath the rack was a dazzling collection of high heels and thigh high boots. There was a dresser, a couch, and a shower stall in the corner. I didn’t have much more time to look around however.

“Put the wine in here,” she directed me, pointing to a wine fridge next to her dressing table.

I did as I was told.

“Get that suit off,” she ordered and pointed to a stack of clothes folded on a chair in the corner. “Put that on.”

With that, she turned on her blow dryer, putting a silencer on any protest I may have had. I undressed, hoping to catch her eye as I did. Increasing my visits to the gym had paid off a little in the short time since I saw her last. She didn’t so much as glance at me as I tossed my briefs to the floor, exposing my growing dick to the cool basement air.

In the stack of clothes, I found a plain white t-shirt, a g-string in light brown, a pair of blue gym shorts, and the collar she had used on me last time. The shirt was way too small but was strong enough not to rip as I pulled it on. It showed off my muscular frame quite well.

I continued watching Laurie transform into Miss Laura. My cock responded too, becoming fully erect as she stood and removed the robe and pajamas. She had been keeping up her body as well with her gym equipment. Under the lights surrounding the dressing table’s mirror, her body was chiseled, and her DDs had surprisingly little sag. I was beginning to doubt the word of Kristie. Laurie was nowhere near sixty. I felt my loins throb as she put one red nylon stocking on at a time.

“Continue dressing, Sammy-boy,” she told me, this time with a smile. She knew what she was doing.

The tiny g-string was a bastard to get on, especially with a pulsing erection. All the way on, it was stretched over my thick 7 ½ inches enough that my testicles slipped out the sides. The back strap went right up the crack of my ass. I put the gym shorts over that. I felt like a high school jock wearing his girlfriend’s underwear to school.

Miss Laura faced me and pulled on the red vinyl dress. It took a lot of effort to tug it over her curves, and like the black one she wore last time, her breasts threatened to break the straps that crisscrossed over them. The flesh swelled between the straps, and I could swear that it was even smaller than the other one. She tugged the skirt of it down as far as it would go, but given her height, there were still several inches of skin between the skirt and the stockings. She pulled on her high heels and tightened its backstraps.

She stepped close to me and I found myself looking up into her eyes again, my heart pounding and my cock aching with want.

“You need to know some things before we go any further together,” she said.

I think I nodded or something, not sure. Too much blood had flowed south.

“I’m a professional.”

“Me too,” I said like an idiot.

“Sam,” Laura spoke again with a deadly serious tone. “I’m a professional dominatrix. I’ve been a sex worker most of my life and I’ve enjoyed it.”

As I stood there slack-jawed, I listened to how she started stripping in Los Angeles in the 80s, went into burlesque after that, then moved to Vegas to do the same in the early 90s once she got some fame. This was all before the age of the internet, I calculated, and it seemed that Kristie estimate of Miss Laura’s age might have been at least close.

I decided I didn’t care.

She went back to the table and began to put on her makeup. While she did, I asked questions about her life and she answered, unabashed, unashamed. She told me that men often gave her money for sex, took care of her, and she liked it, but she chose the men with whom she spent time with both professionally and personally. With her tastefully-done smokey-eye on, her cheeks slightly rouged, and her lips covered in bright red wet-looking lipstick, Miss Laura looked like she was closer to my age.

She continued to tell me about her life, working as a spokeswoman for a sex toy manufacturer, a lingerie model, etc. Once she was done preparing herself, for what I didn’t yet know, she came up to me, got close enough to fill my nostrils with her perfume, and stared into my eyes.

“I like you, Sammy-boy.”

“I like you, Miss Laura.”

“Can you handle the fact that I have a couple dozen dominatrix clients?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

“I want you to be more than a client, Sam.”

“I want that, too.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Holy shit…was that one of them now?

“Be a love and answer the door,” she cooed. Her lips touched mine, gentle as butterfly wings, and her hands went to my pecks. “Mmm. Go on, now. Be a good boy.”

I turned from her, reluctantly leaving her touch and went upstairs. I walked quickly to the front door, not knowing what to expect. I opened it and found, standing there, one of the most beautiful black women I had ever seen.

She was five-and-a-half-feet tall, with high heels that is, wearing a gray business suit with a pencil skirt that went to mid-calf. She was curvy, and I could tell by the way the suit jacket bent out at the lapels, and the stress on the buttons of the white blouse underneath, that her breasts were considerable. Her eyes were large, dark, and exploring me as I was exploring her. Her hair was long and straightened, tied in a ponytail. In one hand, she carried what looked like a briefcase.

“You’re him, huh?” she said.

“Um…I’m Sam,” I answered.

She smiled, and her eyes locked on my obvious erection. “Miss Laura told me about you.”

Wow. She talked about me. I was smiling ear-to-ear, as they say, as I shook her hand. “That’s me.”

“I’m Yvonne.”

“Great to meet you.”

I stepped back to let her in and watched her walk to the basement door like she owned the place. She knew where she was going, so I closed the front door and followed, trying to keep her lovely ass in view as she descended the stairs.

The two women greeted each other loudly, as women do. What killed me was the kiss hello. Miss Laura bent her neck and took Yvonne’s chin in a gloved hand, turned it up to her and their lips joined. I throbbed in the too-small g-string.

The kiss broke and Yvonne went into Miss Laura’s changing room. Laura gestured for me to come to her and wasted no time. Next thing I knew, the chain was clipped to my collar and she was leading me to her weight machine.

“I’m going to show you off a little,” Laura said. “I think you like being the center of attention. Most men do.”

“Yes, Miss Laura.”

“Lay down,” she ordered. “I want to watch you lift weights.”

I did so, quite aware that my cock was tenting the gym shorts. I watched my mistress’s lovely body come near to adjust the machine’s weight. She leaned further down, bringing her breasts close to my face.

“There. Try that.”

I gripped the bar and pushed up. It felt like a hundred pounds or so. I was used to heavier so I pressed it a few times, then lifted my head to see that Miss Laura had pulled up her chair to watch. Her legs were spread wide, but she wasn’t touching herself. At least not yet.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said.

I hadn’t even realized I had kept the weight in the air. I went back to pumping iron.

“Damn,” Yvonne’s voice called from my left.

I looked over and stopped pumping again. She had changed clothes. Her legs were covered in black fishnets, and she had put on a black leather miniskirt and a see-through black nylon bodysuit that displayed her tits wonderfully. She came close to me, her heels clicking on the tile.

“Don’t stop, I said,” Laura called. To Yvonne, she said, “Look at how hard he is.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Yvonne replied. “He doesn’t look that big, though.”

She’s got to be kidding me, I thought.

“There’s bigger, but check it out, Yvonne.”

I pumped iron, trying to keep the hot ebony in view. She told me to lift my legs, so I complied. I felt the gym shorts being tugged away, so I dared stop lifting the weight to let her. I resumed immediately, and felt the cool breeze left behind by the fleeting shorts.

“Not bad,” Yvonne judged, sounding a bit disappointed.

I pumped the weights, suddenly feeling not such a fan of Yvonne.

“You’re such a fucking size queen,” Miss Laura said.

“Yeah, I am,” Yvonne proudly admitted.

“Her husband Mike is ten inches, Sammy,” Laura informed me. “How big did you say you were?”

“Seven and a half inches,” I answered lamely. The weights were getting to me at this point and I was beginning to sweat.

I looked up and Laura was looking down on me at my right. Yvonne was on my left. I continued lifting the weight, though now my tired muscles needed to cheat a little. Fast up, locking the elbows for a breath or two, then quick down and a short rest.

“You can stop, Sam,” Miss Laura granted.

Whew.

“Just feel how hard it is,” she told Yvonne. Laura then reached down close, her tits lingering near my face. Oh, that scent of hers.

At that moment, Yvonne’s hand rubbed the underside of my shaft through the miniscule undergarment, bottom to top and back down. I grunted.

“He’s a hammer, though,” Yvonne commended. “Gotta give him that.”

“Thank you,” I said, though it was ignored.

“How’s he to fuck?”

“Bitch, please,” Miss Laura answered and stood, taking her luscious breasts away from my face. I sadly watched them retreat. “He hasn’t earned that privilege. He might never.”

Yvonne gave a short laugh. “You’re a tough one, Miss Laura.”

“Go ahead and start lifting, Sam,” Laura commanded.

I obeyed. It was a little heavier, but at least she hadn’t doubled it.

“You mind?” I heard Yvonne say. She must have gotten approval, because the next thing I felt was pressure on my scrotum. Something hard but pliable began running up and down my trapped length.

I lifted the weight, locked my elbow, and raised my head to see. Yvonne’s left foot, still encased in the stiletto, was what I was feeling. I looked up at her and she smiled. Her hands were on her hips and she watched my aching hardon take her glorious torture. With her leg raised, I could nearly make out her pussy lips through the thin bodysuit.

“Keep going, Sam,” Laura ordered from her chair. Her eyes were on my crotch, glazed over as she circled her pussy with her fingers.

I pumped iron while Yvonne’s foot stroked my shaft. I began to grunt as I lifted, but it was only partly due to the weight. My cock was being pleasured by the steady foot stroking. Up and down went the weight and the foot, as if Yvonne was matching the pace.

“How’s her foot feel?” Laura asked.

“Great, Miss Laura.” It was more than great to be truthful.

“You’re not gonna cum already are you?”

“Feels good, Miss Laura,” I admitted. “Trying not to.”

“Hold it, Sam,” she warned me. “You do not have permission. Got it?”

“Got it, Miss Laura.”

By this time, I had lost count of the reps. Yvonne’s foot was blissful pressure, but the weight was exhausting me. I was sweating badly and breathing hard.

“Please, stop,” I begged.

“What was that?” Yvonne asked.

She pushed down harder and stroked me faster, out of sync with my fading arm strength. I felt an orgasm rising and I don’t know what was going to give out first, my arms or my dick. Would both happen at the same time?

“You can stop,” Miss Laura said just in time.

I let the weight stay down and Yvonne’s foot went away. The wave of orgasm remained, however, and I tightened my kegel to stop it. Yvonne and Laura laughed at my dancing shaft. I was also working to catch my breath.

“Sit up, Sammy,” Laura ordered.

I followed her instruction and sweat ran right down from my forehead. She got up from the chair and grabbed me by the chain, making me rise to my feet. Looking down, the white t-shirt was soaked through. Laura handed me a towel.

“You know what to do,” she said gruffly and pointed to the weight bench. “You go to the gym, right?”

“Yes, Miss Laura.” I took the towel and wiped my sweat from the black vinyl bench.

“Nice ass, Sam,” Yvonne commented and then gave me a spank.

“Thank you.”

“You call her Miss Yvonne, Sammy,” Miss Laura informed me.

“Thank you, Miss Yvonne,” I said.

Ordered to drop the towel to the bench, Laura tugged me to the bed. It was covered with a shiny black rubber sheet. She ordered me to lay face up, so I did.

Yvonne’s hand closed on my hardon and gripped it tight. She peeled the g-string from my cockhead. “Oh, this boy got edged,” she announced and gave a laugh.

“I knew it,” Miss Laura said and attached something to my face. “Open up. Good boy. Clench it. Hold it there.”

I took the knob end into my teeth, lifted my head, and felt her adjust and fasten a strap behind it. When I looked up, I was staring at a big black dildo, the view was sort of like looking up at the Willis Tower from the sidewalk. I found out later that it was twelve inches long. The two ladies went about chaining my ankles and wrists to the bedframe.

Miss Laura came close to the bed and placed her hand on my cock. “I’m sure you know what to do with that, Yvonne.”

“Sure as fuck do,” she answered. She tugged up the miniskirt and my heart skipped a beat when I heard the snap of her bodysuit pop.

I turned my head to watch Miss Laura begin to finger Miss Yvonne while they kissed passionately. Laura noticed me watching and released the moaning Yvonne’s lips.

“Eyes to the sky, Sammy-boy,” she ordered. “Wouldn’t want you to get over-stimulated before we’re done.”

I did as I was told and just listened to the sounds of ecstasy building up in Yvonne’s voice. Miss Laura had command of her cunt and it sounded like the beautiful ebony would cum right then. Instead, I heard Laura say something to her. Then, Yvonne climbed onto the bed, straddling my chest. The hot juices of her pussy spread into my shirt. She stared down at me over her tits, which I had been correct about. They were at least DDs like Miss Laura’s.

She lifted herself up without a word and lowered her juicy snatch onto the tip of the thick dildo. She groaned as she took it a couple inches at a time. I watched Yvonne maneuver up and down, her juices soon coating the black dildo. I watched her tits wobble as she sped up her ride and the scent of her pussy filled my nose. Yvonne’s fishnet-adorned shins were pinning my shoulders to the mattress. It was uncomfortable, but so far worth it.

I bit down on the gagging knob as her ride became more vigorous. She could not take the entire length, it seemed, but apparently, she didn’t need to. A few more pumps and she screamed, coating the dildo with her creamy cum. Yvonne grabbed the metal bedframe and rode harder and faster, pressing me into the mattress hard.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you, mother fucker!” she howled over and over. More of her juices flowed down the black toy. I felt some of it splash onto my face.

Then, perhaps as a reward, I felt Miss Laura’s hand pull the g-string down. As Yvonne enjoyed her ride, I felt what I at first thought was Miss Laura’s finger sliding over my pre-cum covered frenulum. Then, I felt lips kissing my cockhead.

I groaned in pleasure, but Yvonne’s shouts in the heat of her ongoing orgasms drowned it out. She rode me as hard as she would have any man’s real cock and she came and came again.

Miss Laura flicked the underside of my throbbing erection with the tip of her tongue. I couldn’t see her from underneath Miss Yvonne, but I remembered Laura’s long tongue had that pointed tip. I visualized what it must have looked like as she used it on me.

Miss Yvonne slowed her ride, but tightened her thighs, pulling that dildo up with surprising vaginal muscle strength. I clenched my teeth onto the gag to keep it in place. She grunted deeply each time she released the dildo at the top, then pushed herself down on it to pull up over and over again.

Laura’s tongue circled my mushrooming head and I was sure pre-cum was oozing freely. The pressure in my balls was becoming intense. Her hand grasped my balls and squeezed. With the g-string still parting them, the pain was exquisite. Her mouth compensated by sucking the tip of my cock inside, focusing the suction on my slit and pressing her tongue on it.

The sensation was wild, and I could no longer hold back my yell of ecstasy. I could feel the rush of my orgasm. Sensing I was about to blow, Miss Laura took her mouth away, but gripped my balls harder.

“Don’t fuckin’ do it, Sammy-boy!” she shouted at me.

“Arrrrrrghhh!”

Miss Yvonne laughed at me from her place. We locked eyes and I saw she was enjoying my torture, probably as much as Laura was.

I kept my kegel muscles tight. I had been working on it lately.

“Good boy, Sammy,” Laura granted. Then she did an awful thing. She licked the tip of my cock.

“Aw!” I shouted and doubled my efforts. The orgasm that was retreating began to return.

“Hold it, Sammy,” Laura repeated. “Just licking your tip clean. You’re oozing.”

Miss Yvonne had enough of the face dildo ride. She lifted off and straddled my chest again. “Oh, fuck, I love that. It’s not like Mike’s, it didn’t cum in five minutes.”

Laura left my cock to tongue kiss Yvonne. The two of them moaned and groaned just next to me and I was unable to do a thing about it. My thick, throbbing cock pulsated, knowing that Miss Laura’s mouth had just been on it and was now on Miss Yvonne’s.

Laura backed the shorter woman to the chair behind her. Yvonne’s legs hit it and she dropped into the cushions. Miss Laura dropped to her knees, pulled Yvonne’s legs far apart and did a face dive into her crotch.

“Ooooh! Fuck, yes!” Yvonne shouted and watched Laura devour her orally.

Helplessly, I watched, bound to the bed in chains as my eyes took in the sight of both shapely women. Yvonne was little, and while she was in good shape, was obviously not a weight trainer. She could not have stopped Miss Laura’s advance if her life depended on it.

Yvonne writhed in the chair, and as I watched Laura’s head bob in between the woman’s legs, I willed my cock to cum. It refused, of course. Yvonne’s pussy, however, had no control. Her fishnet-clad legs trembled, and her feet gyrated hard enough that she lost a shoe. Try as she did with both hands on the top of Laura’s head, she couldn’t push the powerful woman away.

I’m not sure how long this went on, but Yvonne surrendered and went limp. Her legs bent at the knees and her arms gave up trying. The ebony beauty seemed to be on the edge of tears at one point, covering her face with her hands while she tried to catch her breath.

Miss Laura stood up from her devastated friend and turned to me. I must have looked ridiculous with that foot-long dildo attached to my face, because she let out a little laugh, bent over me, and slathered my forehead with pussy-juiced lips. Yvonne, a sweaty, drained sexpot too exhausted to move, could only watch through heavy-lidded eyes.

Laura unbuckled the face dildo and lifted it off me. As fun as it was, I was glad it was gone. She held the wet toy in her hands to let me see it. Then she reached for my cock, yanked down the g-string, and let me see the difference in size. The toy was as thick as my erect dick at the base, only all the way up its twelve-or-so inches. Even though I had not seen it completely disappear into Miss Yvonne, she had taken an impressive amount of it.

“Now you see why Miss Yvonne’s a devoted size queen,” Laura said with a little huskiness in her voice. She stretched the undergarment back over my straining shaft, tossed the toy onto the top of her cabinet, and opened up the doors. “Little one?”

“Yes, Miss Laura,” Yvonne answered from the couch. She was still splayed out, but she appeared to have caught her breath.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Laura announced. I could see that she had retrieved a strap-on dildo from the toy cabinet. She was adjusting the straps as she ordered, “Get on the bed. On all fours, and on top Sammy-boy. Let’s give him a thrill, too.”

My eyes widened. The strap-on was as big as the face dildo. Holy shit, she’s not taking that to me…is she?

Miss Laura and her newly introduced monster went out of sight when Miss Yvonne climbed onto the bed. She smiled into my face, just inches away. Her aroma was sexy sweet, a mixture of female sex, sweat, and an arousing body wash. Her breasts, still trapped by the see-through bodysuit, dangled and swayed just above my chest. Her heat was considerable.

I couldn’t see what was happening for Yvonne took up my entire view, but something did. She arched her back and groaned, pressing her lower half down onto my abdomen. She had ditched the miniskirt. I felt the weight of her, pleasant and erotic, go rigid on top of me. I flexed my hips, delirious with lust, wanting to take that size-queen and show her what I could do.

A smack to my balls let me know that was a bad idea. I yelped in pain.

“Bad boy, Sam!” Miss Laura shouted. “Don’t make Miss Yvonne laugh.”

I have to admit, at this point, I was getting mad enough to give the chains a test.

“Ah! Fuck!” Yvonne yelled and collapsed on me, covering my face with her breasts.

Miss Laura told Yvonne to raise up, and she complied. I lifted my head and saw that Laura had not yet even gotten onto the bed. I guessed, correctly as I discovered later, that my mistress had inserted something into Yvonne’s ass. Laura then got onto the bed with us, and I lost sight of what happened next. A pair of gorgeous ebony breasts smothered me. Yvonne’s arms reached past me for the metal bedposts and she let out one long, loud grunting exhale.

Yvonne’s body trembled and shook with Miss Laura’s insertion of the toy, then she began to thrust, pushing the smaller woman up and down along my torso. The nylon covering her breasts slid along my face, soon becoming warm with the friction of the movement. I opened my mouth, nibbling and licking what I could of her.

Miss Laura ramped up her pace, pummeling Miss Yvonne’s snatch with the strap on. Yvonne cried out in pleasure between every quick breath, filling my ears with them. She became louder and louder as the pounding went on, and after a few minutes, the friendly assault sent her trembling and pushing her tits into my face harder. It became hard for me to breathe, but I took it.

Laura slowed and took Yvonne by her long black hair, pulling her up. Yvonne grabbed the top of the bed frame to steady herself and I watched Laura’s gloved hands reach around to her front, covering her large tits and squeezing them hard as she attacked again.

Yvonne came and came hard, but Laura didn’t stop her thrusts. With every retrieval of the monster strap-on, I was splashed with the gorgeous ebony’s cum. My cock ached, wanting its part of one of the women, any part at all, but receiving no direct stimulation.

Miss Laura tore the shoulder straps of Yvonne’s bodysuit down. Yvonne helped remove her arms, one at a time, while Laura’s toy continued fucking her. I could see that the size queen was again taking a lot of the dildo. Looking back up, Yvonne’s beautiful tits were free and bouncing.

“Suck her nips, Sam!” Miss Laura ordered me as she pushed Yvonne back down onto my face.

I did as I was told, sucking Miss Yvonne’s left nipple into my mouth and biting down. Yvonne screamed, Laura let out a long laugh, and the thrusts continued. Yvonne shouted a long string of profanity, senseless, incomplete words, and mindless grunts as I tormented her nipples, one after the other.

I thought the bed was going to collapse, so hard was Miss Laura pushing the giant toy into Yvonne. Eventually, my lower abdomen was soaked in pussy cum.

“Puh-lleeease!” Yvonne called out.

Miss Laura didn’t stop, nor did I.

“Please stop!” Yvonne tried again.

Laura slowed down but did not remove the toy. “What? What? Had enough?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Want me to stop?”

“Yes, please!”

I sucked on Yvonne’s left nipple extra hard and received a slap across the face. Yvonne was getting pissed, but I didn’t let go.

“Mother fucker! Tell this tiny-dicked asshole to fucking stop!”

I began wondering what had happened to Miss Laura’s ‘no cussing’ rule. As for Yvonne’s insult to my penis, I knew better and didn’t take it personally. After watching her take almost all of a couple twelve-inch monster toys, and after what she said about her Mike’s inability to last, I could understand why she felt that way. It was a matter of long-term conditioning and there would be no pleasing her with my seven-and-a-half-inch cock.

“Sam!” Miss Laura called out.

I let Yvonne’s nipple free but got another slap from her just the same. She breathed hard and loudly as Laura removed the strap on. Laura got off the bed and moved to the side, stroking her toy like it was a real cock. She smiled at me with that crooked grin. Yvonne put her hands on my chest and settled her crotch to rest on my slick abdomen. I felt the upper half of my cock get trapped under her as well. She was still hot and wet, and I felt my shaft swell beyond hard.

Teasingly, Yvonne shifted her hips forward and back, rubbing her cunt along my length. Her fingernails dug into my pecks, enjoying my groans of pain mixed with pleasure. The t-shirt was moist and thin, and little protection against her sharp nails.

“Off, Yvonne,” Laura ordered.

Aw, come on! Another minute of that…please! Maybe just thirty seconds would do it!

Sadly, Yvonne complied, lifting herself from me and stepping down to the floor again. She turned and walked on shaky legs to the couch, where I saw the crystal knob of the butt plug protruding from her ass. Instead of sitting on it, Yvonne dropped onto her side, facing away from us. I could hear her breathing hard and under the lights, her lovely brown skin shone with sweat.

Miss Laura had worked up a sheen as well. She stared into my eyes as she unhooked the ass-destroyer from her waist. She set it at the foot of the bed and stepped to my side, leaning her great chest close to my face.

“Good job, Sammy-boy,” she complimented and kissed my lips gently.

Her hand reached to my perpetually hard rod, peeled the saturated g-string from it, and took it in her fist. I moaned. She looked over to my throbbing member and pumped slowly. “Poor Sam. You made quite a mess.”

I lifted my head to look. My cock was shiny wet, having excreted pre-cum during Laura and Yvonne’s activities.

“My, oh my,” Miss Laura whispered as she continued to stroke. “Such a hard rod you have.”

“Thank you, Miss Laura.” I had to take my eyes from her hand action. After all that had happened, and the pressure applied to it by the tiny g-string, it was becoming too much.

Laura sensed my nearing orgasm, stopped her stroke, and removed her hand. I watched bubbles of precum rise to the tip and dribble down the shaft as Miss Laura giggled. She undid the cuff on my left hand and walked to the other side of the bed to uncuff the right. She passed out of my sight and I found Yvonne still lying on the couch. She might have drifted off.

Miss Laura set my ankles free and remained standing at the foot of the bed. She motioned for me to sit up and move closer. I slid toward her, watching that wicked grin spread as I moved eagerly.

With my legs wide, my rigid shaft stood for her and her eyes went to it.

“My, this thing’s been hard all afternoon,” she said and grabbed it in a gloved hand.

I groaned and said, “It has, Miss Laura.”

“Poor Sammy,” she said. “Want me to give you a little release?”

“Yes please, Miss Laura.”

She pumped. Slow and light. Her thumb pressed on my main vein and passed over my slick tip each time it reached the top. With her other hand, she grasped my balls and pulled down.

“Arrrrrrgh!” The pain and pleasure was expertly measured.

Miss Laura leaned forward, giving me a grand view of her cleavage. Her nipples poked large bumps into the red vinyl dress. “You’ve been a good boy, Sammy,” she whispered.

I was speechless, just trying to breath as my tortured sex tightened. An orgasm was not far away.

That slow pump continued, her thumb stopping to rub circles on my head. I groaned and felt the need to tighten my kegel.

“Shh, just relax,” she said. “Don’t fight it, baby. Momma’s gonna make everything better.”

I was in heaven. I tilted my head back and let her work me. Her grip tightened slightly on my balls and I yelped. I was going to cum buckets. She laughed, and her stroke stopped. With her other hand keeping my foreskin taught, the orgasm was still rising. She placed her palm on my chest and shoved me. Not expecting it, I dropped to the mattress.

“That’s it, relax,” she said and resumed her stroking.

Not ten seconds passed when my orgasm hit me. I screamed and watched stream after stream shoot into the air, feeling the hot cum land on the white t-shirt. Miss Laura laughed her sexy evil laugh and sped up her stroking. The orgasm seemed to last a minute, though I doubted it. I don’t know how many times I erupted, but it seemed to impress Laura.

“Wow, what a good boy!”

Then, she didn’t stop. Her thumb circled my cock head relentlessly. I watched more cum ooze from my tip, pooling at the base. Her red glove was covered with it. The sensitive tip bloomed in sensations that I could barely handle. Every muscle in my body went tight as I tried not to buck.

I grunted continuously as she kept up her pressure on my super sensitive tip. I could barely breath. After a while, she stopped and wiped her cummy glove on my shirt.

“Feel better?” she whispered in my ear. I had not even realized she had moved to my side.

Too breathless to speak I nodded and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

She leaned down and kissed me. Brief and light. “Get dressed, Sammy-boy. You have to go.”

I looked at her and disappointment must have been on my face.

“Miss Yvonne and I have three male clients coming in just over an hour,” she said and gave me a hand up. “We have to get ready.”

I stood, lightheaded and weak in the knees. Yvonne had left the couch at some point, and when I went into Miss Laura’s changing room, the water in the shower was running. Yvonne’s dark shape was behind the frosted glass and the used bodysuit lay on the floor in front of it.

I took off the clothes Laura had given me to wear and put my suit back on. I took my time about it as I watched Laura carefully peel the red dress from her body. Her breasts were magnificent, and I felt my dick thicken in response.

“Be a dear and let your self out, okay?” Laura directed.

Reluctantly, I did, though the strength of the release she had granted me was amazing.

As I drove home, I realized that she hadn’t offered to pay me for the groceries, and I didn’t even care. I had mixed feelings about Miss Laura’s profession. I rarely felt jealousy, but I did on that drive home. I wondered what she did with these clients, but after thinking about it, I decided I was having fun and I wanted it to continue.