Art model, sex story

Working as a male go-go dancer from Key West to
Providencetown, I learned firsthand that often women can
become pretty daring. While dancing, rotating my buns as
I thread my way between the tables, I’ve had even the most
prim-looking gray-haired ladies grope my crotch and go as
far as to slip their nimble fingers between the elastic of
my briefs.

Recently, I was enjoying some well-earned time off
when a friend asked if I’d be interested in earning some
easy money posing for a women’s art club. Sure, I said,
expecting anything but what happened.

Most of the women were older, mid-thirties and up, a
lot of divorcees and several widows. Everything went fine
until I disrobed and took my position on the small
elevated platform wearing only a skimpy bikini. One of
the students, a svelte woman around forty, with firm,
pointed tits and short-cropped, salt and pepper hair
recognized me as a dancer from one of the local clubs.
She got the other women revved up, and soon art went down
the tubes as the class clustered around me pleading for a
demonstration of my act. They’d make it well worthwhile,
they promised, with much more than I’d earn posing. I
couldn’t resist.

A few minutes into my bump-and-grind, thrusting my
hips and cock at those horny, sex-starved art lovers, a
tall striking blonde with soft melon boobs, leaped on
stage and whisked off her wraparound skirt. She began to
match my gyrations. Suddenly her blouse was sailing
through the air and she unsnapped her bra, releasing her
Dolly Parton-size jugs, jiggling them at me as she thrust
her full round hips at my cock. By now my crotch was
beginning to bulge. She spotted the outline of my growing
erection and smiled, lips parted and tongue sticking out.

“I will if you will,” she dared, sticking her thumbs
beneath the elastic of her sheer pink bikini panties. A
chorus of “Take it off!” filled the room. Money floated
on stage at our feet. “Fuck it,” I said. “Why not?”

I eased my briefs down over my hips and as my stiff
dick sprung into view the whole group cheered. I was
turned on by all of the adulation and my cock was rock
hard. I have this little trick where, by flexing my
sphincter muscle, I’m able to make my dick jump up and
down. I did it several times, waving at them, and the
blonde ripped off her panties, dropped to her knees and
lunged at my dick with her open mouth. She swallowed my
entire nine-incher with one gasping gulp. Her warm mouth
was drooling like crazy and after a few wet mouth-pumps, I
was coated with her saliva.

She took my cock out of her mouth and knelt up
straight, then stuck my dripping dong between those melon
mammaries, molding the soft flesh around it, and began
massaging me as I began to pump my hips, tit-fucking her.

The salt-and-pepper-haired woman climbed on stage and
began licking the head of my cock as it slid between the
blonde’s quivering tits.

A torrent of women’s clothes flew overhead; jerseys,
bras, panties, pantyhose, all sizes and colors. After
that everything happened so fast I couldn’t keep track of
the sexual free-for-all.

Cushions suddenly appeared on stage and I was being
pushed down on them. A thin woman with a firm athletic
body and clean-shaven cunt was impaling herself on my cock
as an auburn haired amazon lowered her flaming red
creaming pussy down on my mouth. I felt tongues flicking
me all over, in my armpits, over my nipples, working over
my toes, and burrowing into my belly button, the delicious
slurping and sucking sounds blending with soft moans and
excited cries.

My cock seemed to be everywhere at once — in mouths,
between tits, large and soft, small and firm, in cunts,
warm moist palms, some with long slender fingers, others
short and pudgy.

I don’t remember how many times I came that night, but
I know I was sore in the morning and couldn’t get a hard-
on for three days!