Bishop's Red Light Romp Ch. 01

"EEEEYYAAAAGGGGHH! HAAAAHHHH AAAGGGHH!" she bawled sending a great splash of lady dew against the hipster's face; adding a drenching spray of 'special product' to his beard, mustache, and hair.

The hungry hipster took it all in stride; shrugging it off as if he'd been at the prow of a boat that had just smacked through a great wave. She was dealing with no ordinary rug muncher. This impeccably groomed fellow was clearly she could see, a gynecological gourmand! He slurped and fed, rocking his head back and forth hungrily as he continued to feast and gobble at her puss-spout until he'd sipped every last briny drop from her.

Next to them on the stage, Ami was now gasping and grunting as Peter's penis pounded her rear porthole. Beneath her Felicia's spirited cunt munching had her on the edge of yet another splasher of an orgasm; Felicia inspired by the wicked lickings and strokes the brainy pint-sized hipstress between her legs was giving her with fingers and tongue. When she finally shrieked her way through her orgasm, she shook her head so ferociously her sunglasses nearly flew from her eyes but the club manager brought her hands up to her shades and held them in-place; maintaining a modicum of cool as the orchestra played frantically.

Kirsten asked Peter if he'd cum yet; he shook his head in an emphatic 'No' and then Nancy whispered a suggestion in Kirsten's ear as she pointed at the four people on the stage next to them. Kirsten said something quite unheard by all except Nancy, (who nodded back with a wicked grin). Again Nancy looked out to the crowd and waived to her hubby, Mr. Sir... who did a little finger waive back and went back to his second overpriced drink of the night that he was sipping slowly.

Kirsten now moved Ami and Peter from Felicia's proud pretty puss-licker and mounted the lovely Spaniard's face herself; pulling up Felicia's legs and bending them at the knees. She said something to the pretty hipster gobbling Felicia's twat waffle and she nodded in agreement, rising to her feet and shucking sneakers and leggings beneath her oh so shortie mini skirt. The crowd craned their necks and stared with keen interest as the band continued to play and the stage continued to rotate slowly.

As Kirsten held Felicia's long Spanish legs up (and her delectable derriere up as well), the pretty hipstress remounted the stage. She then mounted Felicia as well in a rip snorting lesbian scissor-fuck. Felicia was on fire with happy fuckery and showed her appreciation by immediately tucking into Kirsten's Teutonic twat schnitzel from down below; making the ring mistress nearly lose her hat once more (an image that was now almost becoming her 'signature look' as it found its usual place cocked down over one of her eyes).

Nancy and Ami now repositioned in a sixty-nine, with Nancy pulling the pretty arse cheeks open for Peter's proud pork sword. The Dutchmen once again sank into Ami's ravaged rectum once again; this time fucking much harder and faster. He was intent now on getting as close as possible to his orgasm but he was still saving it for something special. Beneath him, Ami and Nancy gobbled twats as their juices ran freely in weeping dribbles. It was all now an over the top frenzy of wanton hedonism before the crowd of onlookers, (who were almost hypnotized by the torrid spectacle before them). The band played... faster... and faster.

Annette let out a happy sigh, basking in the glow of the orgasm she'd just had at the hand... or should I say, LIPS of the bearded hipster. Truth be told; that last orgasm had HER and not the other way 'round! She'd had so many lovely mouths on her twat-waffle tonight but his was supreme! Apparently the best had been saved for last? There was just one thing she needed... some big veiny cock to make the night complete; maybe two even?

It was now as if minds were being read, for the hipster rose from Annette's sodden puss-hole and shot a glance to Kirsten the ringmistress; one eye cocked wryly and with both hands at his belt buckle. Kirsten returned his glance and looked at her watch before shooting him a smiling wicked nod in collusion.

Annette was confused at first, then she found herself spun around onto her belly. A second later she felt the lovely rude push. The hipster had released a true Krotch Kraaken of a cock and it was now pushing its way through the grotto entrance of Annette's sopping wet pussy!

She huffed out all her air and pushed her face into the pink matt of the stage as the shoulders of the cock made headway. A second later and it shunted on through... slamming home at the back of her cunt with lovely rude force as two strong hands gripped her hips. She let out another huff of air and then a low moan... this was what she'd wanted ever since she'd been cynched up in this silly jacket... vulnerability... and cock! She was about to get it in spades.

Within a few minutes' time Ami let out another howl of joy as Nancy's cunt munching and Peter's ass-plowing eventually tipped her over the edge of orgasmic release. As she and Nancy continued to roll about like a pair of fighting cats in a torrid mutual munch session.

Peter rose with his ramrod stiff cock and strode to Annette and her happily humping hipster. Annette looked up at the tall Dutchman, stroking a massive piece of timber in his hands. He'd yet to empty his balls and it was readily apparently he'd been saving up his load for her. She smiled, licked her lips and told him to get down with her and make himself comfortable.

Seating himself down before Annette with his legs to either side of her shoulders, Peter lifted Annette's head until it rested in the Dutchman's lap. He brought the tip of his dong to her lips and she opened her mouth to accept it, straight from Ami's ass-chute! Peter then lay back on the mats beneath him and wrapped his hands behind Annette's head.

Annette felt a lovely rush of excitement as the cock slid to the back of her throat and Peter pumped his hips ever so slightly. Relaxing and breathing through her nose, she just went with it... loving the helpless feeling of being happily spit roasted; the beautiful bearded hipster nailing her pussy from behind and the Dutchman plowing her tonsils up front in a nasty ass to mouth skull-fuck. She was home now... she was in her element, very much in this moment; loving it, living it, and hoping it would never end!

She lost track of time and only focused on the poke poke poke at both ends. Next to her, Felicia had been untied from her straight jacket and had now moved with Kirsten, Nancy, Ami and the hipstress in a five-woman daisy chain; each woman on her side lapping the twat truffle of the woman in front of her in a lovely mutually stimulating Sapphic ring. It didn't matter for Annette, she had her poke poke poke and her stroke stroke stroke and she was delirious with pleasure. Nothing else mattered, not her wayward cubs, not her responsibilities back in London, not the straining craning heads of the audience watching the rotating stage as the orchestra played; there was only the poke poke poking pleasure!

The pleasure didn't end right away for her either; it merely changed itself up after a few minutes. Just as Annette wondered how long Peter could maintain his nasty ass to mouth face hump the Dutchman let out a choked roar and his fingers lightly dug into her short black head of hair. Instinctively Annette bore down with lips and throat, like a calf nursing at its mother until she felt the boiling rush of warmth from the Dutchman's balls. It was a big load; he'd been edging and delaying his orgasm all this time with Kirsten, Nancy, and Ami so it was a huge expenditure for him; rope after salty rope of his cock curds spooging down Annette's gullet as she just took and loved every drop of his ball broth.

A few happy gulps later from Annette and she'd completely drained her Dutch treat. He was far from done, however. He raised her head in his hands gently and kissed her before telling her that he and the hipster humping her from behind were only half done with her.

He nodded to the bearded fellow plowing her from behind and the hipster shot a look to both Ami and his hipstress girlfriend. Ami, looked at her watch and nodded before diving back in to Nancy's pussy. The hipstress shot him a thumbs up and then wiggled that same thumb in Ami's poor poked pooper before returning back to gobbling the club manager's pretty pink puss hole.

The Dutchman said something to the hipster Annette could not quite make out over the noise from the orchestra and the moans of the daisy chain. A second later and the cock was out from her cunt and she was raised to her knees. Peter set about freeing her from her straightjacket, which landed on the floor in front of the stage not twenty seconds later.

Peter lay back down upon the stage, his wobbily dong still very much able to maintain penetration, (despite the fact he'd given Annette's tummy a lovely filling of dude-chowder from his nutsack). He could still fuck and he was anything but tired, (neither was the hipster and neither was Annette for that matter). It was unanimous.

Annette straddled the Dutchman's cock and sank down on the shaft; taking his cock up deep inside her. She began to hump and stroke it back into rigidity. It didn't take long. Now she anticipated what was next. Her hunch was correct.

She felt the hipster's strong forearms push her down onto the Dutchman. A second later and the bearded Rasputin wannabee was above her, she felt his weight. She felt his warmth and sweat. She felt his cockhead push against the pucker of her rectum... she was about to be pummeled at both ends in a sweaty double-penetration. She felt the rush of the cock as it slewed in to the darkest depths of her innards.

"Haarrrrhhhhhhh!" Annette gasped.

There was pain, there was discomfort for her (for a moment), then there was merely the rush of being plugged and corked by pulsing warm fleshy penetration for her. A selfishly hedonistic smile spread across her face. These two men had once again correctly read her wicked little mind like a filthy little book! They began to fuck in earnest.

She reached back behind her head in an attempt to stroke the hipster's beard; the thrill of everything getting the better of her. She was surprised then to receive his strong hand wrap up her wrist and her ears to be met by a firm 'NO' from him. Apparently there were a lot of things in this world he was ok with, but 'mussing the doo' was simply NOT on that list!

She chuckled and agreed, nodding in smiling submission. He continued to hold her wrist behind her back; squeezing it forcefully as he sawed his dong in and out of her dirt chute. It gave her the perfectly buggered feeling of helplessness she craved; a feeling that was only enhanced by the sensation of the Dutchman's throbbing ramrod as it shunted up inside her womb-hole like a piston. She cradled Peter's head to her neck with her remaining free hand and bid him to bite and nibble upon her. He complied as if he not eaten in days.

The only way for this to be more complete would have been for Bradley Knight to provide his gorgeous cock to her lips, mouth and throat; rendering her happily airtight and plugged all the way 'round. She'd have loved the sensation of that cock she'd sucked so many times before to fuck her tonsils and add to the joyous sensation in her pummeled pussy and her wonderfully rutted rectum. She'd love the delightful trickle of his pre-ejaculate and his choked efforts not to spend too soon, (all as the hipster's beard made delightful tickles on her shoulder and the Dutchman's chin stubble scratched her neck in just the very way she loved). She wanted him here... he was not, but it was fine for now. She had this, and this was so lovely for her.

This didn't take long for her either. The double-plunger man-sandwich brought her off in a series of happy sighs a short time later. Her pussy happily leaked and splashed like a busted rain gutter as her lady-dew ran down three pairs of legs.

Her sighs were met by a pair of distinctly male grunts as both Peter and the hipster shuddered and filled her front and back doors with jets of hot ball-sauce. She felt Peter's teeth rake her shoulder in a final nibble as he humped out the last dregs into her cunt; simultaneously she felt the swish of the hipster's beard and tash as he bestowed little pecks on her neck and between her shoulder-blades as he left the last salty squirt up her tush-pipe. The band played a triumphantly hokey fanfare as the audience came to their feet with a roar of applause. The center of attention once more, Annette Bishop felt... spent happy bliss!

#

The two women walked side by side; arm in arm down the sidewalk along the canal, headed to the point where the company car was to pick them up before driving back to the corporate retreat lodgings. The rain had begun again in little pits and pats as their heels clicked in unison on the concrete; clek clek clekking along beneath a two pair of long and desirable (if not somewhat tired lanky legs). Thinking back on the evening's events Annette was quite happily surprised by the way it had all turned out.

Almost immediately after her fanfare performance with the Dutchman and the well hung hipster, she and Felicia had retreated to the privacy of the dressing room. There was simply no time for anything more than a kiss from her two male costars. It was late and they still had no word at all from the cubs.

In the quiet of the dressing room Felicia checked Annette's messages. As she did, a text appeared. It was a bit of a mixed blessing.

"ITS ALL GOOD -CUD NOT BE THERE-2MORROW NOON FANTA Z SEX SHOP DOWN THE STREET FROM THE HOLE IN ONE CLUB - SORRY- SHELBY"

"What in the hell are those two doing?" bemoaned a completely worn out Annette when Felicia showed the message to her.

This was trying even her supremely calm patience. She always had a firm steady hand on the tiller of the corporation but now she wished to bring it soundly against the backsides of those two supremely naughty cubs of hers. No efforts to text back to either of them was met to success. She was frustrated... what was worse, the ball batter from Peter and the hipster needed to come out and she needed to pee.

Luckily there was a toilet in a stall to one side of the dressing room. As she heard it flush and she saw Felicia hop up from the commode; she stepped around her assistant and seated herself, (in need of a good emptying now that she was so full and more than a little frustrated by events).

Felicia sensed her mood. As Annette wrinkled her nose in mid piss and stared at her phone screen, she rejoined her in the stall. She knelt between Annette's knees and raised them up slightly; hooking them over her shoulders.

Annette continued to scowl and wrinkle her nose. Now it wasn't as much for the naughty-ass cubs whom she wanted to box the ears of. She really need to wee, (plus man-jizz was leaking at both her ends as if she were an overstuffed pastry).

Felicia dropped her pretty noggin and Annette felt her thighs go a bit high. Instinctively, she scooted her lovely bum to the commode's front; curving her body like a letter "c" on the very edge. Felicia was a "find."

The Iberian hottie's tongue and lips now went to work in earnest; making like a little bee inside her boss's petals. Annette had just finished pissing but it just didn't matter; the taste of a little wee trickling from another woman's snatch simply turned Felicia on to simply no end. It was Felicia's very own special "pee-version."

The lovely Spaniard had a good many kinks in her lexicon but watersports with another lady happened to be first and foremost among them. Besides... Annette needed a bit of stress relief at the moment. Yep, Felicia was a find!

Felicia's tucked in between Annette's legs and the buffet commenced. Her tongue and nose immediately met with the acrid taste and fragrance of Annette's pee dregs; this followed closely by a salty creampie, (courtesy of two well hung men). She regretted not having the chance to fuck them this evening and regretted things even more as the cock custard began to drip and flow from both of Annette's ends. Why did Annette get all the luck? Oh well, she was content to snack on this salty concoction of ... BRRRRINNGG THE PHONE RANG.

"Oh POO," whined Annette glancing down at her screen just as she was beginning to enjoy Felicia's nibblings, "I'll have to take this,"

She answered. On the other end a man's voice rang through the receiver,

"Hello my dear! How's my crumpet this evening?"

"Caesar darling!" Annette said with a sound of joy lilting on her lips and a look of OH FUCK NOW WHAT on her face, "Oh its you... I am so happy you phoned in. Worried sick about you, dearest. How is Ireland?"

"Green and wet," came his voice on the other end, "can you hear the rain?"

He held his phone to the sky from as the roaring rush of water bounced on his umbrella. She could hear it quite clearly. She could also feel dribblings and drippings of a different sort about to rush from her and meet Felicia's busy lips full in the lips and snout.

"Oh yes darling," Annette replied, "things are a bit wet here in London as well, getting wetter even."

She place her hand on Felicia's head and tapped for her to be silent, (as the sexy Spaniard snorted and snickered at the irony of her bosses' words). It wasn't the first time Annette had lied to her hubby about her comings and goings, (or cummings and goings for that matter). Caesar ate it all up like porridge, however. Whatever explanation given by Annette at any given time served as the perfect smokescreen for her many infidelities. Oh and there were soooo many... but then where was I? Oh yes... sorry everyone.

"So anyhow Caesar," Annette continued, "how long before you arrive back in *ugggh* arrive b-back... in *arrggh*... in London?"

As Caesar mentioned he'd be in Ireland for another week, Annette let out an uncontrolled shudder as if something was very much... well, out of sorts inside her. There was a bit of a 'rumble' in her 'tumble' as it were. She was now suddenly caught up in the most uncomfortable of abdominal spasms.

Apparently all that semen spooged up inside her tail-pipe from the hipster's hindquarter hijacking earlier that night was making an exit and at a most inconvenient of times. She felt as if she were crapping a half liter of his love lotion now and it was all beyond her control as all that cum just came, and came, and came! Caesar noticed she was not her usual 'chatty Cathy' self on the phone.

"What's wrong my dear," Caesar said concerned, "are you alright?"

"Oh well," Annette replied, "nothing I want to trouble you with. Felicia and I were in the mood for a little bit different sort of dining and I am feeling the after effects of a wrap and fruit dish that perhaps involved far too many people and their hygiene concerns. It was all quite satisfying but now I am paying the price!"

"Oh dear," replied Caesar, "well do get some rest and try to push fluids dear."

"Oh dearest," grunted Annette, "Felicia is helping me push fluids as we speak!"

This was at least truthful; the housekeeper was now pressing her face into Annette's crotch; forcibly sucking as much of that pesky man-batter as she could up into her lips. Sounding as if feasting on a particularly ripe mango, it could be said she was truly enjoying herself; male ejaculate being quite a favored delicacy for her on any day, but when supped from the lovely hindquarters of a beautiful woman... well, so much the better. Her enthusiasm had an effect on Annette, reducing her to a series of grunts and shudders but Caesar on the other end interpreted this all as the pangs of bad cuisine finding the quickest way out. He rattled on into his phone.