He continued for a moment, and naturally—unnaturally, actually, but it felt natural now—she let him. Some time later, trembling in his arms, she nudged his shoulder. “Lauren and the girls are here.”
Sliding his hands back out of Morgan’s pants and turning, he saw Brianne, Jody and Lauren looking at the two of them through the sliding glass door, all of them wearing mixtures of disapproving scowls and jealous glares. He strode back inside.
“Had to cop one last feel of your mom for the road, perv?” Jody asked.
“Step-mom,” Lauren corrected reflexively. “Not that I like you fucking my mom, but at least you’re not committing actual incest.” She shuddered.
“Yeah, having an orgy with your step-brother in the locker room is super normal, Laur,” Brianne chided.
“Like you have room to talk, butt slut!” Lauren retorted.
“HEY!” DJ interjected before things could get uglier. “I just wanted to say goodbye to Lauren before I left.”
Lauren folded her arms across her chest, clearly not liking his taking charge, regardless of what had happened between them. “Well, bye then,” she said dismissively.
“Oh come on, you really want to be shitty like that on my way out?”
She sneered. “Oh God, we fool around a little and suddenly it’s like we’re super close? Ugh.”
“Well, some things never change,” he mumbled mostly to himself.
A few minutes later, Brittney called out a merry “say cheese!” as she snapped a photo—something DJ said he wanted to remember his week by. He was back in Morgan’s bed, his cock—hard after a moderately competent blowjob from Lauren—buried in her pussy as she lay on her back, legs spread acrobatically wide.
Jody and Brianne were there too. The big-titted blonde knelt topless over Lauren’s face, one huge nipple embedded in her friend’s mouth as she looked up at the camera, smiling her brightest smile to accelerate this whole degrading spectacle. Brianne was completely naked, her divinely inspired ass pointed at the camera as she stuck a slender tongue out to poke at Lauren’s clit. It was all posed, but naturally, once Brittney was content with a few shots, he went ahead and moved things through to completion, culminating in one last satisfying blast of cum right into his ever-bitchy step-sister’s face.
Jody griped about having to participate, how lesbians were a totally healthy and vital part of the greater body of womanhood, but she couldn’t get off from a woman’s mouth alone; Brianne also pouted that no one even tried to get her off, which triggered Lauren complaining about having cum in both eyes and not even being able to see. DJ put an end to the complaints by putting Jody and Brianne into a 69 position on top of Lauren (who groaned at the weight until DJ stuffed his still-wet cock between her lips), and he squeezed, pinched and twisted Jody’s hypersensitive nipples until the two friends were contentedly sighing after a nice series of orgasms.
“Later, girls,” he said, patting asses and tits farewell.
“Get bent, DJ,” Lauren bit back, shoving her moaning, quivering friends off of her.
“Oh, and of course I expect to get a weekly pic with Brianne’s ass, Jody’s tits and Lauren’s pussy—or you’ll get to see how Taylor feels, having the whole school see you being a little slut with your little slut friends.”
She scowled, though the effect was diminished by the blobs of his jizz still clinging to her face. In any case, he didn’t care enough to stick around and hear her complaints. He turned to Brittney. “You ready babe?”
“Ready!” She smiled adoringly at him.
He took her hand. “Let’s go home.”
Interlude — Updates
As the music came to a close, Sydney snatched the $20 out of the man’s hand with her mouth, her big tits so thoroughly mesmerizing him he didn’t even notice it. She tucked it into her g-string with the rest of her huge wad of cash; once again, it was getting to the point where she had so many bills tucked in there that it bulged out her g-string to the point where it may as well not have been on except to keep the all the dough in place. She’d had to be extra attentive to her bikini line.
She made her way off-stage to the sounds of her loyal fans demanding an encore. Again. Ever since that crazy night a couple weeks ago when that guy had come in and auctioned her body and dignity, she’d been completely swamped with admirers. They were a mix of lonely losers, neglected husbands and boyfriends, and of course a good many flat-out perverts keen for a slice of the action that had netted her so much press. “College Co-Ed Really WILL Do Anything For Cash,” one headline had read. She hadn’t even known pervs and creepers had their own media before this.
Of course, publicity was a double-edged sword for someone in her line of work. Having some loyal clientele you could count on for a steady stream of tips was handy; having a bunch of pictures of you floating around on the internet posing with clients’ smudgy signatures and grubby hands all over you, however… that made things more interesting than Sydney liked.
She’d lost count now of how many letters and messages she’d gotten. A classic hottie, she had always used her social media fairly casually, happy to let guys get a few pics of some cleavage, a bikini shot at the beach, a selfie when she was dolled up for a night at a club. It was easy popularity, and she’d always liked being popular. She’d had fourteen-hundred-some followers before that debacle; fast forward two weeks and she had twelve thousand, as lonely wankers all over the country were keen to jack off to the unintended publicity shots.
Sydney brought up the app on her phone. Make that just over thirteen thousand.
She slipped one of the bouncers a hundred bucks to escort her out to her car and the two set out. (They’d been doing it for $20, but after some sumbag hid behind her car and tried to jump her Saturday and dealt a good hard bite to Blake as he fended the guy off, they’d demanded more.)
She considered what might have happened if Blake hadn’t been there, and figured $100 was a small price to pay.
Of course, even with the money flowing in heavier than ever, there had been more expenses that came with it. A home security system (after some fucker had shared her home address with the internet), bars for the windows, a new paint job for her car after someone spray-painted “WHORE” on both sides. She suspected it was one of the girls she worked with, who were livid with jealousy at how much attention (and money) she was getting. Cries were being raised to pool tips; Sydney had had to blow the manager to keep him from enacting the policy. From the looks she’d gotten leaving his office, she was pretty sure the other girls understood the arrangement, and it was a matter of time before she’d be competing with the desperate ones, willing to more than suck a little dick for their share of Sydney’s tips.
Happily, tonight there was no one lurking, and no further damage to her ride. (She’d also had the tires popped with a knife two days ago. Maybe another dancer; maybe Blake.) If only there had been some way to put a stop to that auction! Still, she knew there hadn’t been. Her alternatives were to be sold like a piece of meat, or… well, nothing. Like she was going to be a total cunt in front of God and everyone by refusing him. She didn’t even like that prick, even if he’d been a good lay.
Some things, she just had to tolerate.
Sydney locked the doors on her car, looked in the back seat to make sure no one was hiding again, and set out for home.