Organization: [ The STAGE - "Your Community Center" ]
Storey Tails -- another lesbian story by Wilma Part 1
The want ads in the Reno paper included opportunities for young women over 21 to work as prostitutes. The idea had a certain appeal beyond my need to supplement my meager income as a waitress. Besides, the ad for Storey Tails included part-time work only forty-five minutes from Reno in Storey county. I wouldn't be a whore if I just made a couple of bills once a week, would I? Besides, the profession had the sanction of the law. It was a business just like the little restaurant I was slaving in at the time. Beats screwing the landlady's face for rent, I told myself, which is what I had been doing. The woman was over fifty and had not a tooth in her head. Just as well she didn't because I was only twenty-one and -- but that's another story.
"Do you have any specialties, Honey?" What a surprise was Katherine to me. I had always pictured madams as painted-up old sluts who had been fucked into brothel burnout and become madams because they knew no other life and kept hanging on. Katherine was only ten or fifteen years older than I was, had a degree in English from UNR, and looked like a modern young executive.
"I'm not sure what you mean by specialties," I said, thinking to myself all the while how I would love to specialize in whorehouse managers who looked like Katherine.
She handed me a menu. I couldn't think what else to call it. Once a waitress, always a waitress. I soon learned that's in fact what they did call it. The entrees were a bit arcane, and I must have frowned trying to figure out what they were. Half-and-Half? Driving Range? Slicky Slide? Around the World? Grand Canyon Suite for crying out loud? Copro-auction -- oh, surely not! Whatever happened to sucking and fucking?
"I guess I don't do anything special," I said, feeling the job slipping away. I pictured my corpulent and edentulous landlady. "But I can do anything, I guess," I said hurriedly.
"Rule Number One, Honey: No girl at Storey Tails does anything she doesn't want to do. You're a private contractor. You set your rules, you set your prices, the client pays you, and you pay us for providing a safe place and medical benefits."
I would be a business woman! Clients, yeah, that's what they were, and I was a private contractor. The girls I saw were all full-time and lived there. A shift was three months long. Not for me. I wouldn't have been able to keep it a secret from Daddy if I did that anyway, so that was out with no question.
Katherine was studying me. "I'll tell you what: we'll start you slow since you're new to the business. Do you think you could do a show with another girl Friday afternoon?"
heh heh heh heh heh, heh heh heh heh heh heh heh, and heh. I could hardly contain myself. My first assignment would be a chore I thought I just might be able to handle. The girls I had seen there ranged from not-so-sharp to several I would have saved up tips for. On my way back to Reno, I wondered how much that blonde goddess I saw would charge me, and I was funky by the time I climbed the wooden stairs to my little apartment on the alley near the bus station. I looked around at it, knowing I wouldn't have to live like that much longer -- that is, if I could discipline myself not to give every dime I earned to other, uh, contractors at Storey Tails.
The Friday afternoon show turned out to be a special arrangement for some businessmen and their girlfriends. If they didn't have a girlfriend or a kinky wife to come with them, Storey Tails provided them. For a price of course.
I lay naked on a velvety mat that covered a knee-high stage in the middle of a room full of couples. I was the first thing they saw when they were let into the room. There was soft, lovely music and special lighting to set the atmosphere. These were not shouting, slobbering animals but men who liked to be lured sensually into slow insanity before their girlfriends took them to the orgy room.
I twisted and turned and rubbed myself, loving the moans I heard and the occasional gasp. I figured the girls who voiced their lust were probably my fellow contractors doing their act as I did mine, but I let myself believe the girls were lusting on me. I knew the men were.
Katherine had not told me the scenario. All I knew was that I was supposed to lounge around on the stage totally nude and as sensually as I knew how. After a while, I wasn't acting anymore. I was turning myself on. I watched myself in the mirror on the ceiling as though it were not me. It was some sexy lovely I wished I could feel against me. Her legs, her body. It just didn't seem like me. I writhed lewdly as I watched myself, and I had the curious experience of thinking for a moment I was falling in love with me. The entrancing movements of that lascivious young woman beguiled me, captured me, drew me into her charms.
Realizing neither one of me would want to get on top broke the spell I had cast on myself, and I smiled at a man to keep from laughing. I was acting again, and reluctantly relieved.
Minutes passed and I began to wonder if I had misunderstood what the show was all about. Maybe I was supposed to get off the stage and do something. I was starting to get nervous. What was I expected to do? Why the hell hadn't I asked Katherine some questions? She knew I was a neophyte. The familiar impulse to run was coming over me, an action that has more than once startled my sex partners. The men were clearing their throats and starting to make nervous movements. The perfect mood I had created was being eroded.
At the precise moment my body would have bolted and run, the draperies on one wall parted. All eyes, including mine, peered into the darkness beyond the arched drapes.
Part 2
There was a flash from a spotlight. Was that a woman I saw? There was no noise in the room now but the music. We looked and waited. We strained our eyes. We knew we had seen something.
Suddenly, gasps went up from all around the room when the strobe lights abruptly came on and revealed the moving figure of a veritable goddess cat-walking through the arch and toward me. The effect was incredible. The strobe lights gave an eerie, demonic-dream effect as the creature moved without seeming to walk. She moved onto my platform where I laid transfixed by this handmaiden of Hades. I gazed at the vision hypnotically as she came toward me and stood astride my shoulders looking down at me. The stroboscopic effect was unreal as she lowered herself down onto my face. Precisely at the instant her cunt touched me, the strobes were replaced by colored illumination of our little piece of the stage. Somebody moaned "Ohhhh, Mother of God!" and the room was awash in sounds of lust.
The creature bent down as though kissing my ear and whispered, "We just got one of 'em off cheap. Sorry I'm late. I had to piss, as I'm sure you know by now. Oh, damn, I forgot to spit out my gum." She sat up and moved slowly back and forth on my mouth. If I hadn't known she was chewing gum, I'd have assumed her mouth movements were just part of her sensuality. I had seen sexy dancers do that with their mouths, pouting, puckering, chewing the air.
I sucked on her and felt her, but it took a minute or two to get back my sexual mood. How could she pull this off, I wondered as I sucked her tart pissy pussy. We were two feline creatures melding together cunt-to-mouth in a beautiful act of lesbian love. That was my mood, anyway. Hers was manifestly different. She was an actress doing a scene. I wondered if she was a whore or a businesswoman like myself. I wondered if the temperature of one was any different from the other. I wondered if urolagnia was a perversion I had inadvertently missed.
Ahhhhh! The Bartholin's gland cannot act! It has never had a lesson and would not take direction anyway. The goddess creature fucking me in the mouth was juicing up!
She looked down at me with obvious surprise. It delighted me. I was turning this inwardly cold but outwardly hot performer into an honest woman. Her pussy was telling the undeniable truth that she was getting turned on. Her eyes learned sincerity next, and they crossed and glazed as they succumbed to edification.
"Oh, you cunt!" she panted. "You suck it, you cum-mouth." Her speech center may have been affected, but the rest of her knew very well what was going on. She bent double to whisper to me. "Where the hell did they find you! You're gonna make me cum, you --"
But up she went, her body's reflexes seizing control. She lost the ability to whisper the rest of her sentence and it came out "-- cuntsucking CUNT!"
Moans and groans all over the room. "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, sweet Jesus," somebody prayed.
"Let her have it, Velvet," a woman's voice called out huskily.
"I cum in my goddamned pants," a man lamented pitiably.
Dignity and sophistication were being lost all over the room as Velvet lost parts of her mind, a piece of her soul, and all of her girlfuck goo to the ministry of my mouth. She had me by the face now, fucking like a bronco buster but controlled just enough to let me evangelize her femaleness and lead her on to a glorious conversion.
The pressure on my face eased, and I held her legs and sucked harder to keep her from leaving me. Then I realized she was not rising by her own strength, which I had sucked out of her. She was being lifted off me.
The strange thoughts that dart through people's mind at the oddest moments: "I swallowed my gum," Velvet murmured to no one.
"Check her mouth," said one of the two girls lifting her off me. "I think she sucked it down through you."
Somebody started sucking my pussy. I slithered my legs around a female face and locked my feet together. I pulled her in rhythmically, pulsingly, sensuously, and let her suck at me. I couldn't see her in the overhead mirror because there was now a girl's ass in my face.
I looked up the girl's smooth, glistening, naked back and watched her long, honey-colored hair sweeping back and forth as she took her turn. My tongue slid easily up her asshole. I turned my tongue upside down and then completely back around inside her rectum. She screamed and hunch-pressed her ass into my face. She started vibrating. Not another sound out of her, just mindless tremors as her demons shook her senseless. She was lifted off me very shortly and carried away like some decorticate lab experiment gone awry.
I looked down again to see who was eating me, but I could see nothing but her hair and her busy busy head. I took hold of her and helped her root into my sex, tugging her with my slick legs and holding her head as I hunched her.
But I was sidetracked before I could cum. Girl crotch was sliding into my face. Another forward job. At least I would be able to see the face of whoever was using me. Wrong! She covered me in womanhood before I could look up. Whoever it was was pretty well overheated by the time her turn came. Her hole was already moist, and she exploded almost as soon as I worked my tightly puckered lips inside her and stuck out my tongue. It was a technique my landlady used. Oh well. Knowledge is knowledge.
"Holy shit, whoever's next, you're not going to believe what this babe can do to you."
I was starting to get the idea I was doing something or other kinda special. I thought I was just doing what every cuntsucker did. Without knowing it, however, I was doing tricks known only to the cognoscenti of cunnilinguists. And I didn't do the same thing to every girl, either, because none of them lasted long enough to get the full treatment before she was carried off.
Part 3
I lost track. After a while I was unable to know how many women had taken a turn. I did my best for every one, but the best of mouths and tongues must fatigue. The last two or three must have wondered what all the fuss was about. It was all I could do just to lie there with my mouth open and let them work on me.
I had barely enough sense left to know the last woman getting on my face was the first one again. Velvet had come back for seconds. She had a clitoris like a tiny titty nipple. With no energy left to do much else, I put a crinkle in my tongue and massaged her cumbutton with it. She tried to put off her eruption, but I got her with my crinkle, and my face suffered the consequences of her ineluctable womanquake. In a moment, she had cum and gone.
The room was empty now but for me and my pussy addict still nuzzling and sucking between my legs. I had paid careful enough attention down there to know it had been the same woman throughout the several generations of women taking turns on me. No one had unwrapped my legs even once. I had kept them against her face nearly the entire time. Physical contact had never been broken from the moment I felt her face sliding between my thighs until we were the only two people left in the room.
She resisted letting me pull her face up to see her. Not that I would have known her, since I didn't know anybody there, but I wanted to see the face that had dedicated itself to me for so long. I worked up the courage to assert myself. I took her by the hair and face and forced her face up. It was gooey and she looked drunk, but it was unmistakable who she was. I couldn't believe it.
"Katherine?"
"I think I love you, Wilma," the manager said through benumbed lips and thickened tongue. "Mom said you were good."
I wasn't sure I had heard her. Only a dentist could have been sure of what she had said. "Who?"
"My mother is your landlady," her rubbery mouth mumbled.
I stared at her, incredulous, blinked away my disbelief, and lowered her face back into my cummy twat. I laid back and wrapped my legs around her face again.
"Suck it up, Katherine. You've earned it."
And she did. I let her wallow in the slop she had spent so much time creating. I gave her more of it. For the first time in a long while, I felt like my pussy was indeed a valuable prize to give somebody. It was worth more than just something to pay the rent with. It brought families together!
I went to sleep letting Katherine gently lick me clean and rub her soft, pretty, previously dignified and now slippery face tenderly on my slick legs and in the sex she had fallen in love with. I dreamed of toothless young women real estate agents managing whorehouses.
--end of Storey Tails--
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wilma@stage.com
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