The Booth in the Back

It was our club's first Fun Run of the spring. The weather had finally turned warm, and turnout was especially high. I was in charge of set up and clean up. I had hoped to be able to run, so I'd dressed in spandex running shorts and a loose tank top over my sports bra. But the turnout was so great that some runners were already finishing the short 5k course while I was still getting others started. The good news is that with so many participants, there were hardly any leftover supplies to dispose of, and cleanup was quick. Buoyed by our success, the other organizers and I retired to a nearby bar to celebrate.

Five of us tucked into a circular booth over by the jukebox. I ended up between Tom, the president of the group and Ben, one of the race officials. On Ben's right was Terri, the group's treasurer, and next, on the outside, was Terri's husband Dave. Dave bought the first round of drinks for the table, and we all toasted a great day. The bar was full of racers, friends, and families. The jukebox didn't get a rest.

After my second drink on no food, I started to feel the effects of the alcohol. I was in a great mood, and happy to share it with the others. We were quite cozy scrunched all together in our booth, telling tales and laughing. Tom got up to fetch another round, and when he returned, he slid into the booth quite a bit closer to me than he had been sitting. I noticed, but I didn't mind. He slung his right arm over the back of the booth, so his hips were touching mine. Within a few moments, I felt him begin to stroke my left arm with his own. He was still carrying on a conversation, so I assumed the stroking was absentminded. It felt nice, if I'm honest. I began to lean against Tom's warmth.

By this time, the crowd had become so boisterous, the music so loud, that conversation became difficult. Terri and Dave could hear only each other, while Ben, Tom, and I continued to chat. I leaned forward onto the table, and Tom ceased stroking my arm. Instead, he began stroking my ribcage. His movements became slower, more deliberate. Still I didn't discourage him, but it became increasingly difficult to keep my mind on the conversation instead of his fingers. All of a sudden, he slipped his hand inside the armhole of my tanktop and began caressing my breast over my bra. I emitted a quick gasp, too small to be heard by anyone else at the table. My nipple grew stiff, and I quickly crossed my arms so I could cover the movements of his hand with my own. He paused a moment, leaned over, and whispered in my ear.

"Your tits are so nice. I've wanted to touch them forever." I was completely unable to speak. I raised my glass and took a sip of my drink, hoping that my arm movements would hide the fact that Tom was groping me here in public. What I didn't do, however, was pull away from his grasp.

After that pause, his movements began again. He'd skim my protruding nipple and trace back to the skin below my armpit. Slowly, slowly, back and forth. In a short while, his fingers began following the edge off my bra, sliding in just under its outer edge. I was nearly crazy with anticipation. Would he put his hand inside my bra and feel me up properly? Would anybody else in the crowded noisy bar notice?

As if to answer me, Terry and Dave got up to dance to the next song playing. The crowd filled in behind them, serving as a human curtain to our booth. Ben, however, didn't slide over to take up the now-empty bench space. He looked at me with a quizzical expression.

"What's the matter? Too much to drink?"

I stammered. "No, I'm good. Fine." I guess my near panic -- not to mention my arousal -- was written on my face. Ben clearly didn't believe me, and glanced over at Tom. Just at this moment, Tom dove his hand into my bra, and cupped my left breast. His knuckles tented out the front of my top, catching Ben's attention. I could feel my face blaze with embarrassment, but I couldn't possibly stop Tom. If anything, having Ben see what was going on made me even hotter.

Ben's eyes grew wide. He grinned. "My, my! What do we have here?"

I closed my eyes and sighed shamefully. "Ohhh. He's playing with my tits."

Tom nodded and agreed, restating the obvious. "I'm playing with her tits." He brought his right arm back from behind me and tugged down the strap of my bra. The stretchy cup folded over and my breast popped out, still covered by my tanktop.

Ben glanced furtively around to see if the coast was clear, and seeing nothing, took my other bra strap down. His fingers were wet from the condensation his beer glass; I flinched at the cold. But it didn't take long for his hand to heat up as he pawed and mauled my right breast.

What could I do? I leaned back. My arms were pinned at the elbows by my bra straps; I did nothing to move. Frankly, I was afraid if I did, my hands would find their own amusements in Ben and Tom's laps. I was afraid, but I was yearning, too. I was totally turned on.

Tom moved his hand to my waist, searching for the band at the top of my shorts. He found it quickly, and reached down, underneath my panties to my pussy. When I spread my legs apart, he began stroking my already-wet slit.

I turned to Ben and whispered, "Oh! He's playing with my pussy." Why I felt the need to do play-by-play commentary, I don't know. I do know it turned me on even more to say it out loud.

"He's put his finger inside me. Ah, I'm so wet. You, you're rubbing my nipple; it feels so nice." I began to squirm in my seat. Ben pulled the armhole of my tanktop forward, hooking it between my breasts. My right tit was now exposed to open air. He cupped it and bounced it around a bit, then lowered his head to lightly suck on it. I arched my back, still terrified that any of the bar patrons might see me displayed so brazenly.

But then, I turned to deliver the latest development to Tom, who was still busy with my clit. "Ben's sucking my tit."

"Is it good?" was the reasonable follow-up question.

"Ssssso good." I hissed as Ben's tongue slobbered all over my nipple and then flicked it.

"Should I suck your other one?" Tom murmured.

I nodded, but my eyes went wide and, nodding at the room, I managed to squeak, "But they'll see!"

"Nobody's looking. Don't worry." He replied in a reassuring tone. He pulled the other armhole open, again tucking it in front, and lifted my fleshy mound to his mouth.

It was then that I wriggled out of my bra straps, freeing my arms. I reached up to hold each man's head to my tits, pushing them against my chest. When Tom pulled away to concentrate on my crotch, Ben reached over to caress the naked globe.

It didn't seem to be enough for Tom to be playing with my pussy inside my pants. He moved to pull down my waistband. I resisted, not wanting to be bare-assed as well as bare-breasted here in the booth. "It's under the table; nobody can see!" he insisted. I pushed him away gently.

"You first." I reached out to stroke his penis through his pants. It was already a little hard, and my stroking made it strain against his fly.

"I'm rubbing Tom's dick," I faithfully reported to Ben, who was still licking my nipple. "It's so hard. I want him to take it out." I found a coy voice and reached over into his lap. "Will you take yours out, too?"

Ben didn't reply, but instead moved his hand to pull down the top of his running pants until his cock and balls were free. It bobbed a bit from the motion before stiffening and lengthening. I encircled it with my hand and squeezed lightly.

Seeing his boothmate's dick inspired Tom to unbutton his own pants. But since my hand was already there, I did the work of pulling his pud from its constraints. It popped out with a little noise and stuck straight up, reaching just below the underside of the table.

Time for a news update. "I have your two cocks in my hands." I began stroking and them both, tightening and loosening my grip. Both men took their hands away from me so they could concentrate on the sensations in their dicks. As I brought my clenched palms over their knobs and back down to their bases, it was now their turn to squirm in the booth.

Ben started leaking pre-cum first. I collected a few drops on my fingers and brought them to my lips, sucking off the pearly goo. "Mmmm. Yum," I reported to Tom. "He's nearly as wet as I am." I returned my hand to Ben's dick and began jerking him in earnest. "He's gonna come for me so good."

With that, Ben looked momentarily panicked. "Where?!" He groped about for some cocktail napkins, but they seemed too small to do the job.

"Don't worry," I soothed. "You can come on my tits. I'll just cover it up with my top." I continued to flick the underside of the head of his cock, squeezing the mushroom bulb between my thumb and forefinger. Ben started grunting, and I twisted myself to face him and leaned over his lap. Three jets of jizz landed, steaming, on my swaying tits. He managed to miss the cloth between my breasts completely. I released my hold as he softened, and scooped up a finger full of his batter to taste.

"I made him come, " I reported back to Tom, as if he wasn't there to witness the whole thing. "He came on my tits. Can you see his come on my tits?"

"I see it," he breathed. He leaned up to grab my drenched boob and rubbed it in as if it were body lotion.

"Tom's rubbing your come into my tits," I conveyed to Ben. "It's so hot and sticky. I wonder if his come will be hot, too." Turning back to Tom, I asked, "Is your come hot, too? I like it hot."

A few more strokes and a squeeze of Tom's balls, and I got my answer. Tom erupted onto my tits as well, with Ben eyeing the proceedings carefully.

"Oh, look how white it is! Oh, god, I can't believe you both came on me right here! I wonder if anybody else can see my come-covered tits!" With that, I arched them forward for any passing person to see. I began playing with my come-drenched nipples, being careful not to wipe them clean. Their stickiness was such a powerful turn on, I was not only no longer worried about exposure, I was gasping for it.

Ben put his hand down my shorts and began playing with my pussy lips. I writhed in pleasure, rising just enough off my ass that Tom had room to yank down the waistband of both my shorts and my panties. Once the fabric was below my knees, I could spread my thighs apart for them, just like a wanton whore. They pushed the table far enough away to give them access, and too far for any pretense at modesty.

Ben put three fingers inside me, while Tom began flicking my clit. I was nearly out of my mind with lust. At this moment, Dan, one of the bar's busboys, came by the booth to collect the empty glassware. He stopped dead in his tracks in astonishment at the sight of me, tits out and come-covered, naked pussy being assaulted by two men whose dicks haven't yet been put away.

He stood for a moment until I said, in ragged breaths "Yeah, they're making me come. Please watch me come. Will you watch me come, please?" With that, I propped my feet up on the table's edge for support, which had the added benefit of lifting my ass cheeks up off the banquette.

Ben stuck his tongue into my ear while he worked my inner wall. Tom's pressure on my clit was increasing, and he began murmuring, "Yeah, baby, come for us. Come for him. Come on, come, baby, yeah, baby, come," over and over again. With that urging, I hit my peak and started thrashing and crying out. I couldn't hear if there was music to drown me out; I really didn't care.

They kept up their handiwork for at least a minute, preventing my climax from subsiding. Dan put down his dish container on the table. He looked around to see who else was watching, and then looked pointedly up and around at the ceiling.

Oh, my god. Cameras.

The thought that all of this was being recorded on closed circuit both horrified me and somehow extended my orgasm.

"Are. We. On. Camera?" I panted as I came some more, thrusting up my tits at the busboy.

Dan shrugged and nodded. "Yep."

This news startled Ben and Tom enough to release my ladybits. They hurriedly tucked their dicks back into their pants as the waves of my orgasm ebbed. I didn't close my thighs or move my feet, however. My sopping cunt was still on display for Dan and the cameras. I caressed my exposed body while I caught my breath, smiling lazily at my boothmates. Ben untucked my tanktop so that my tits were once again covered. They were still sticky, however, and nobody made any move to shift my bra back into place. It stayed bunched up around my waist.

Dan glanced around again. "Come this way," he beckoned, motioning us to the room in back of the bar. Sighing, I pulled my panties and shorts back up, and followed him and Ben through the crowd. Tom followed closely behind me, keeping his hand around my waist just under my still swaying tits and his crotch nestled against my ass. Nobody else in the crowd seemed to pay us any mind, which, frankly, amazed me. Could so much have gone on right there under the nose of a crowd and nobody noticed?

When we entered the back room, I noticed the video playback equipment. Ben asked if it was a closed circuit, but Dan shook his head and said no; the footage uploads to the cloud until deleted. Which means anybody on the account can download it and copy it.

"Unless..." he began.

I realized immediately what he wanted: his own private performance, as payment to delete my public one.

"Before I say yes, I want to see what's there." I said.

Dan sat at the desk and queued up the playback. The monitor came to life in full color. Our booth was completely in frame, with no static or shake. Our faces were completely visible, and more importantly, recognizable. Dan fast-forwarded to the point where Tom started playing with my tits. For all my potential public shame, I still thought my tits looked great onscreen.

Dan kept looking from the monitor to my barely covered tits and back. Finally I caught his eye and held his gaze.

"Tell you what. If you delete this from the cloud while we're watching, I'll ... make it worth your while." With that, I pulled my top and bra over my head, shaking my sticky tits at him. Dan gulped and agreed. I told Ben and Tom to watch the door. Smiling, I added, "But first, you should email the file to the three of us. For a souvenir."

That bit of work done, I walked over to Dan's chair, knelt down, unzipped his fly, pulled out his cock and put it right into my mouth. Between licks and slurps, I said to the others, "I'm sucking Dan's cock."

"Is it good?" Tom asked.

I continued reporting on events as they developed. And they developed for quite some time.