Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05

In shock Jen sat up. "What the fuck are you doing?" she said, loud enough to draw attention from a couple people sitting around her.

Jen immediately pushed Tim's hand away as he smiled at her, his arm slipping out from beneath the blankets covering her.

"Just giving you some relaxation, you definitely seem to need it," he chuckled, showing her his wet fingers as he slowly and deliberately began to lick them.

Jen could only stare in shock with her realization of him blatantly finger-fucking her in her sleep—on a plane no less! Waves of humiliation overwhelmed her as she recognized the signs of arousal in her body.

In horror and shame Jen hurriedly climbed over Tim, ignoring his hands on her bare thighs as she got up, adjusting her skirt and making a bee-line to the bathroom, thankful it was empty as she stepped inside.

Once within the small confined space, she checked to make sure the toilet was clean and not going to soil her dress before sitting down and taking some deep breaths in an attempt to clear her mind.

"That fucker," she said out loud, her nerves completely frazzled as her body continued to react from the sexual manipulation. Her revulsion was only mental, her body fully aroused and yearning for more. Her moist slit was uncomfortable between her legs, her pussy fully aroused from Tim's manipulation while her breasts were tight and aching.

Closing her eyes, Jen counted to twenty before getting up, slightly wobbly on her feet as her body continued to yearn.

Wetting a paper towel and holding it to her forehead to calm down, she slowly gathered her composure. Eventually she was able to breathe steadily, startled when she heard over the speakers the attendant's voice announcing the plane was thirty minutes from landing and they would be walking around collecting trash as they prepared to land.

Knowing she could keep awake for 30 more minutes and ignore Tim, she pulled the latch of the bathroom door, surprised when it immediately opened and Tim stepped inside, forcing her back against the sink counter.

"What the fuck?" she gasped as Tim merely smiled at her as he grabbed her hip and shoulder, spinning her around to face the mirror.

His body pressed against her back and ass, grinding her pelvis into the counter as she tried to pull away.

"Tim, what the fuck are you doing?" she exclaimed.

Tim did not say anything as his hands moved up and slid beneath the top of her dress, immediately kneading her breasts.

"Stop it!" she demanded, her mind at odds with the response her body was having, feeling the slow ache between her legs begin once again.

Although she had been sexually assaulted in her sleep, her body had been left aching and in need. Her mind was in turmoil as she comprehended Tim was forcing himself on her in the bathroom!

A part of her mind screamed rape, while a darker and deeper part of her psyche welcomed the sexual attention, her body yearning for the violation.

Her body won when her outburst turned into a moan as Tim's fingers clamped down on both her nipples, lust overwhelming her. In response, Jen involuntarily leaned back into Tim's chest as his hands continued massaging her soft flesh.

Jen felt Tim's pelvis dry humping her ass as he pressed her against the counter, once again moaning uncontrollably as he squeezed her nipples, her ass pushing back harder into his crotch.

Jen felt one of Tim's hands move from beneath her top and she looked at him in the mirror, seeing her bright pink lipstick contrasted against her tanned skin, her mouth open in a pant, the 'O' formed by her lips looking sensual and natural as she was violated—unfortunately not completely against her will.

She suddenly felt cool air on her ass realizing Tim had lifted her skirt, and also felt and heard him undoing his pants.

She watched in the mirror as the khaki material slid past his hips, sudden comprehension in her mind as she noticed him not wearing underwear and what was about to happen.

"Tim! No—oooh!" she exclaimed as Tim's cock slid into her vaginal canal, her moan echoing in the small space.

Not only was his aim true, but her body eagerly accepted the invasion. Normally such a thrust would have been painful; however, she was completely wet and aroused from her wet dream and earlier passion, so his long member slid easily into her.

Unable to control her body, Jen tilted her hips, instinctively giving Tim an easier angle as his cock pulled back and once again slammed into her.

Jen's hands grasped the sink counter as her head fell forward, her hair falling around her face as her body was overcome with lust, giving in to her assault.

She felt Tim's hands move her pony tail around her neck, realizing what he was doing too late as he untied her top and the white material fell forward, exposing her breasts as he untied the back as well.

Jen watched in the mirror as Tim's hands grasped her unfettered breasts, his pelvis moving erratically as he fucked her from behind. She could only pant as his cock entered her repeatedly, her body flooded with desire—too aroused to care she was being violated by her co-worker, and for all intents and purposes, raping her.

"Oh-oooh," she moaned again as Tim's hands kneaded her flesh, the fatty tissue bulging from between his fingers like dough as he once again squeezed her nipples and his cock pistoned in and out between her slit.

She could feel her vaginal muscles grasping the member sliding in and out of her, each thrust sending pleasure throughout her body as she stood there, allowing him to have his way with her, and even responding by meeting h is thrusts with her hips.

While being fucked Jen became aware of Tim whispering to her. Realizing she had closed her eyes in desire, she opened them and watched in the mirror as her body was jerked up and down with each of Tim's thrusts, his hands holding onto her breasts as she finally made out his words.

"This is what a DSA girl is all about," he was saying as his cock slammed into her. "Ready to be fucked at all times, taking any cock available, loving every second of it," he said, pulling back and then ramming back into her forcefully. "You like this Diamond, don't you?" he asked as his cock slammed into her again and again as she grunted. "Don't you Diamond, you like to be fucked?" he asked her again.

Jen could only cry out "Yes!" as she felt her body building to another orgasm while her breasts were fondled, her pussy ravaged.

The speakers beeped and the male attendant's voice came over the intercom saying people should return to their seats in preparation for landing; however, Jen's could do nothing as her body was trapped and used against the sink, lost in her own lust.

Tim began pumping faster, the small bathroom echoing with the steady thumping as Jen's body was pushed repeatedly against the sink.

Suddenly he slammed into her one more time, his cock deep inside her as she felt a warm wave pass through her lower stomach, knowing he was cumming inside her. The abrupt awareness of her violation, her co-worker cumming inside her, was too much for her mind to grasp as her own orgasm engulfed her body. She felt her vaginal canal clamp down on the cock inside her causing Tim to moan as her muscles gripped his shaft like a fist, the shuddering movements of her sex milking him in the natural response of reproduction, pulling every last drop of sperm from his cock as her vaginal canal squeezed him dry.

Finally she felt Tim's deflating cock slip out of her, both their rapid breathing echoing within the small bathroom broken only by the roar of the plane's engines.

They were both startled when a knock on the door came followed by the male flight attendant's voice stating, "We need everybody back to their seats for landing."

Jen looked into the mirror seeing their reflection, observing her bare torso, her skirt hiked up around her waist, as her co-worker smiled at her over her shoulder.

Suddenly he turned her around to face him, abruptly pushing her down to the commode until she was sitting in front of him.

Tim's cock was right in front of her face, his pubic hairs matted with both of their fluids, the odor of sex—pussy mixed with cum—strong in her nostrils.

"Clean me off," he told her, his cock moving closer to her mouth. "We can't let the plane stay up in the air all day," he chuckled.

Knowing Tim would not care if they did in fact stay in the air all day, her mind was still in a haze of post-coital lust as she leaned forward, her tongue lifting his cock as she sucked the deflating member into her mouth.

Tim let out a moan as Jen drew him into her oral cavity, his hands wrapping around her head and pulling her face further into his pelvis.

The mixture of both their fluids—salty, sweet, and bitter—filled Jen's mouth. While she suckled on Tim's cock, cleaning him off, she also used her hands and toilet paper to wipe away the cum leaking from her slit, hoping she could clean up enough to not leak out on her skirt.

After a few moments Tim pulled back, his cock sliding out of Jen's mouth with a loud intake of her breath and a slight 'popping' sound. Without saying a word he pulled up his pants and exited the bathroom, leaving her sitting on the closed commode.

As the door slid shut Jen heard Tim apologize to the flight attendant about being preoccupied.

Immediately the door opened again to Jen's surprise, the wide-eyed stare of the male flight attendant on her. Seeing her disheveled appearance—her skirt still pulled up around her hips and her top down and exposing her breasts—not to mention the small enclosed area permeated with the odor of sex, he broke into a grin, telling her she needed to go to her seat as soon as possible before once again closing the door.

Embarrassed and completely humiliated, Jen finished cleaning and straightening herself up as much as possible before making her way out of the bathroom. Once again she had difficulty tying the strap around her back, but eventually managed.

Peeking her head out the bathroom, she was thankful the male flight attendant was not around, so quickly exited the bathroom and made her way towards her seat.

As she passed by the flight attendant stand the female attendant stopped her, smiling and handing her a metal pin in the shape of pilot's wings.

Jen looked at her in confusion.

"Welcome to the mile-high club," the woman whispered to Jen as her face broke out in a blush.

Ashamedly she moved back to her seat, her mind completely numbed and oblivious to climbing over Tim or the looks and grins of the other passengers.

Sitting back down, Jen stared out of the window until the plane eventually landed.

She was still in a stupor as the plane pulled to the gate, barely responding as people began getting up and rushing to get out of the plane. Startled as something came across her view, she looked up to see Tim handing her carry-on bag to her. Taking it, she finally got up out of the seat, following the line of people off the plane.

Although Tim was behind her, he surprisingly did not touch her in any way as they left the plane.

What the hell was wrong with her, her mind kept repeating. She had actually enjoyed Tim having his way with her, actually cumming with him! Sure she had been mentally opposed to it, her mind screaming "No!" as she tried to get away; however, her body vetoed her mind, the definite "Yes!" being loud and clear as she eagerly responded to Tim's thrusts. Even now she could feel her nipples hardening at the thought of his use of her, feeling the moist sensation of his cum still between her legs.

She walked in a daze, following the mass of people who had left her plane, not paying attention to where she was really going. She barely noticed several men looking at her appreciatively, attempting to ignore them as her body—fresh from being used—once again stirred. Her mind was a flood of cascading images ranging between running away screaming and dropping to the ground with her legs spread and letting them have their way with her, and everything in between.

In the last three days, she had had sex with three different men, none of them being her own fiancé. Jen felt disgusted with herself. Sure she could come with excuses, letting Agents Geiger and Vogel have their way with her to prove she could play her role at DSA—but Tim? She could say she was assaulted, violated against her will, but she knew her body's reaction had betrayed her, even now feeling a thrill at the encounter.

God, she was a fucking slut, she thought. Her mind in a complete turmoil, unable to grasp a hold of her senses, mentally in shock.

Suddenly her reverie was broken by a sudden flashing of lights, as if a strobe light were going in front of her. The bright stimulus was enough to catch her attention and break the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.

Looking up past the gate she saw a crowd of what looked like reporters, their cameras flashing non-stop. Wondering who they were there for, she suddenly she made out their yells:

"Diamond, can we talk to you!"

"Diamond, how does it feel being the new DSA Spokesmodel?"

"Diamond, are those your real breasts?"

"Diamond, do you plan on making any full length movies soon?"

The questions came fast and furious, and Jen could only stare in shock as she was literally surrounded by the men, her eyes blinded by the flickering flashes of cameras—real cameras she noted, not cell phones or digital cameras—almost blinded.

She was completely overwhelmed as the cacophony of voices surrounded her, unable to move.

Then, out of nowhere came a voice she recognized, "Gentlemen. Gentlemen! Please give the lady room to breathe," Mr. DeWight's voice came through the throng.

Sure enough as the wave of reporters separated Jen saw her boss and her fiancé's rival, Charles DeWight III walking towards her. Jen was too thankful for his presence moving back the reporters to care why he was here--or coercing her into becoming a sexual slave—as he made his way to her, taking her by the arm and pulling her through the throng of Paparazzi.

"My dear, that dress looks stunning on you," Mr. DeWight said matter-of-factly, completely ignoring the reporters as he guided her through them.

Finally Jen found her voice, "What...what are you doing here?" she asked the man, who had told her he would not be in until later in the week.

Mr. DeWight smiled as he answered. "My dear, I had a feeling this," he said waving his hands at the strobe-lit audience following them, "would be happening. Word has gotten out there is a new DSA model, and the media is all over it like a hounds on a steak," he laughed. "I figured you would be overwhelmed, so flew out Saturday night. I'm flying back tonight as I have some business at the club before I return later in the week, but I knew you could use some rescue," he told her smiling.

For once Jen was glad for the man's presence, thanking him.

"It's of no consequence, really," Mr. DeWight told her, "but we do need to satisfy your growing fan base," he said, putting his arm around her and abruptly turning them around to face the mob.

Jen barely took notice of Mr. DeWight's hand sliding across her lower back as another barrage of questions came. As she stood there uncertain what to do, Mr. DeWight held up his free hand to silence the crowd.

As the cacophony of questions stopped along with the flashing of lights, Jen was able to take in her surroundings a bit better. The first thing she noticed was Mr. DeWight's hand around her waist slowly sliding up and down her bare hip, his grasp firm and warm against her bare skin. After the use and manipulation of her body throughout the day, she once again suppressed a flush as warmth spread through her body.

Her attention then turned back to the reporters, listening as Mr. DeWight explained to them how DSA would be publishing a fact sheet with all of her vital statistics which would be available at the DSA home office downtown. He explained the sheet should answer most of their immediate questions as another cacophony of inquiries came to them.

The Paparazzi once again quieted as Mr. DeWight held up a hand, laughing and telling them, "OK, OK, I will let Diamond answer one question each," he said, smiling at Jen's shocked face.

"Come my dear, you have a fan base to satisfy," he told her. Leaning into her ear he whispered, "Relax, answer the questions and be flirty about it, you are, after all, the company's embodiment of sex," he grinned as she felt him squeeze her ass.

Mr. DeWight started picking out the reporters—some of which he knew by name—as Jen answered their questions, at first shy and tentatively, but then more embolden as she realized the reporters were not there to entrap her, merely asking honest questions she felt comfortable answering.

The first couple of questions were fairly basic, asking how long she had been stripping, why she became a stripper, where she learned to work the pole so well and so forth. She had been answering such questions all her life while dancing for patrons so the answers came readily.

A few questions were more personal, asking her home town, if she was really engaged, and what was her fiancé's name.

These latter questions Mr. DeWight deflected, admonishing the reporters, "Now gentlemen, you know DSA's policy does not mix business with home life. If such questions continue, I will end this impromptu press conference," he told them sternly.

Jen was thankful for his intervention, as she too overwhelmed by all the attention. Without Mr. DeWight's intervention she would probably have blurted out her real name, address, and phone number.

After she had answered questions from most of the reporters, a greasy fat man raised his hand. Mr. DeWight waved at him as the man asked, "So are those real?" he said, leering at her breasts.

Jen was used to that particular question, having been asked it probably three times a night at the club. Although not unusual for a woman to have naturally large breasts, hers jutted from her body and were perky and firm without any plastic surgery.

As she opened her mouth to answer Mr. DeWight's voice came from the side of her, "Why don't you come over here and find out!"

Jen looked at Mr. DeWight in shock, seeing him grinning as she heard several reporters admonishing themselves for not asking the same question.

Turning her head, she looked at the greasy fat man coming towards her.

After moving in front of her, they both looked back at Mr. DeWight who nodded, saying with a big smile, "Go ahead, they won't bite," to the other reporters' amusement.

Jen's eyes opened wide in astonishment as the man's clawed hands moved forward, gasping when he took both her breasts in his palms and his fingers dug roughly into her soft and compliant mammary tissue through the dress.

Her vision was again flooded with flashes as the reporters took pictures of the other reporter feeling her chest.

Jen closed her eyes, not only from the bright lights but also in humiliation, wishing she were somewhere else.

Behind her closed eyelids she heard Mr. DeWight's voice ask the man what he thought.

"Goddamn if those are the most awesome natural tits I have ever felt," she heard in front of her, hoping her ordeal would be over soon.

Suddenly her eyes flew open as she gasped, the man having pinched both her nipples roughly through her dress, his fingers like a vise on the hardened nubs. The sensation was both painful and erotic as Jen once again felt her body responding in arousal.

The circumstances were so unusual Jen could only stand there in shock as she was openly groped in public.

The man gave her breasts one final squeeze, his thumbs flicking one more across her hard nipples as he finally backed away.