Sabrina and I had dated for about six months. I was still in the Air Force and was sent on a temporary duty assignment or TDY for short. I was gone for a few months, and over that period the connection between us dissipated to the point where we maybe talked once a week. Even then things were just off, and in our last conversation before I was set to come home, it was clear things between us were dead.
In the months following my return home I had decided I wasn’t going to re-enlist, and with Mardi Gras coming up I went into short timer mode about 8 months too early. I hadn’t really explored much since Sabrina and I started dating, we had played around with power exchange a bit, but when we were together the passion was white hot and just sort of burned away all hints of anything else. It was pure raw emotion. The type of emotion that completely consumes you at first, but as with most fires that burn fast and hot, without something to sustain them they just burn out. However, my interactions with her and Daphne had awoken something in me. I had these ideas percolating through my mind, and they always left me with one question, was I Dominant?
The threat of Y2K had recently passed, and the internet wasn’t the resource of information it is now. At least in regards to BDSM. Aside from my work in IT, I only used the internet for porn. I was one of the first to get a cable surfboard modem, and with it I was able to download jpeg’s and gifs at lightening speeds. No more jerking it to half downloaded pixelated porn. I had all the tits and ass I could ever want just a click away. That’s when it hit me, and I took time to teach myself HTML and started building a web page.
The idea was to start a TNA page, tits and ass for the uninformed. There were gatekeeper sites that you could link your site to. In turn you got paid based from this gatekeeper for however much traffic and clicks your site brought in. I started off very modestly, had a few public shots of boobs and ass from previous Mardi Gras that I posted and before I knew it, I was pulling in $10 to $15 a week. This gave me an idea.
Several friends of mine shared my love for photography. It had begun a few years prior when we were too young to actually get into the bars on Bourbon St. A small group of us pervs soon learned the real show was outside on the pavement. It was her all inhibitions were laid bare. There’s something about the atmosphere and the desire to acquire cheap plastic trinkets that drives women insane. I knew with a little direction and hard-work, the sky was the limit of what I could make off the site.
We hadn’t sooner arrived and started our trek down Bourbon I was accosted by a drunken older woman. She was heavyset and smelled like musk and Big Ass Beers. She was beyond tipsy and with every syllable that came out of her mouth her huge plastic cup of cheap watery beer sloshed about and threatened to douse me.
“I’ll show you,” she slurred. “The pink ‘uns.”
The intoxicated woman had pointed to the lone pair of pink rose beads around my neck. I knew these beads were my holy grail. I stacked on about half a dozen other beads that were duplicates, but always kept just one pair of the pink rose ones. I could get almost anything for them on a good night. From the look of the crowd that had already gathered the Friday before Mardi Gras, it looked to be a very good night.
I shook the woman off, side stepping a violent eruption of frothy beer from her over-sized cup. She grabbed at her large saggy braless boobs, and stuck out her tongue. She shifted her attention quickly to my friend P, who had been following closely behind. I grinned watching the lady grope and encompass P. He shrieked as she cupped his manhood, and then looked at me with this wild look in his eyes, like a trapped animal. She got him, I mused to myself.
“Come on P,” I called and pushed my way through an oncoming crowd of revelers.
“I’ll suck you,” a voice said from the crowd. “My friend will fuck you if you have another.”
I looked around but couldn’t find the source of the words. I shrugged it off, and just as I was about to dismiss what I had heard, a beautiful raven-haired girl stepped in my way.
“I’ve got the boobs,” she said. “My friends got the ass.”
She grabbed both sides of an old baggy Metallica shirt and pulled it against her frame. She bounced slightly up and down, and then let gravity work. She was blessed in a way I had seen very few blessed before. A huge toothy smile was splashed across her face when the bouncing had stopped and my eyes glanced up.
“If you’re not a boob guy,” she said, “my friends got the ass.”
The busty dark-haired girl twirled her index finger and that prompted a thick blonde standing next to her hike up her shirt and turned around. The spandex the blonde wore, left very little to the imagination. She too let gravity work as he bounced her ass up and down.
I was put on the spot. I was completely sober, and had yet to even make my first pass down Bourbon, and I already knew I was about to be without my prize pink rose beads. I tried to play coy, and dismissive. I smiled and started to walk off.
“I can get more than that,” I offered with a boyish smile.
“I did say, I’d suck you off,” She countered.
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” I said.
The thick blonde laughed. She had turned back around was hovering off in the periphery. The raven-haired girl smiled.
“You’re cute,” she said.
The two girls, P, and I spent the next few hours hanging out. Dipping in and out of various strip clubs where the girls were greeted warmly. It soon became very apparent that these girls hadn’t been just customers, but had also worked at a couple.
“I’m going to show you a good time,” the raven-haired girl, whose name I now knew to be Kathy or Kitty. Her blonde friend was Abi. My friend P had left on his own journey, after we had crashed a bachelorette party that had degenerated into the soon-to-be bride doing her best imitation of “My Pony” on her maid of honor. Sensing his fortunes laid with the bachelorette party and not with Kitty or Abi, P had joined the group of girls and went off to celebrate the coming nuptials. P and I agreed to meet up at the car at noon the next day.
Abi had also left, she had an appointment. I asked if she were going to see a John, and she had laughed it off and offered a curt,
“Maybe.”
At an all-night diner, Kitty and I had our first real discussion. We talked about the stripper thing, how she got into it. How she made so much in one night that it afforded her time to really devote to school and work on her teaching credits. We discussed my aspirations, and kind of laughed about how I was wanting to transition from a straight-laced military job to the sex industry, and how she was hoping to do the opposite. We talked for hours before walking the fifteen minutes to her and Abi’s apartment.
Walking into their apartment was almost like walking into a sex shop. Vibrators and dildos of various sizes and lengths were strewn about like how clothes would be strewn about in my apartment. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment from Kitty. It was all perfectly normal, right down the life-sized mannequin dressed in black leather, with a massive black strap-on attached to it.
“Intimidating, huh?” she asked.
“Your’s?” I asked. “Or hers?”
Kitty smiled.
I could hear moaning coming from behind a partition. I assumed it was Abi and her “John.” The apartment was a wide-open loft so sound carried everywhere. Office partitions had been put up to separate various sections of the large room. Kitty motioned to me to come forward. As I did, she pointed ahead to Abi, who was laying back on a mattress penetrating her shaven slit with a massive pink dildo that took two hands to fully manage.
Despite the live action ahead, the computer geek in me screamed as I looked over the hardware present. Skirting the perimeter of her bed were various cameras, old school web cam jobs with wiring that ran into a tangled rats nest on the side of the dingy mattress. A lone computer screen flickered with life against the far wall. Abi moaned harder now, perhaps it was the sense that she was being watched. There was something voyeuristic about it.
“Camwhore,” I said.
Kitty nodded.
“You?” I said and pointed to the action.
Kitty shook her head, and then pulled me away. She kissed me.
It wasn’t a slight peck or one of those timid, should I or shouldn’t I types of kisses. It was full on and it was hard. Her lips were locked against mine. I ran my hand up from her waist, to her breasts, and then to her neck. I squeezed and separated myself from her.
“What happened to sucking?’ I asked.
Kitty smiled.
Kitty’s mouth was gentle. I towered over her. My 6’3” frame dwarfed her. She licked and caressed with a softness that hadn’t been there when we kissed. She had no issues taking my entire member and working it down her throat. I was rock hard and she wasn’t fazed.
After several minutes, I felt the need to push the action. I lifted her up from her knees by the raven-haired knot on the back of her head. I pushed her to the couch and bent her over the armrest. The time for gentleness was gone. I just had to penetrate her. To make her feel me. To give her all of me.
As I yanked at her shorts, she pushed her hand back to create separation. She turned and had to of read the confusion on my face.
“I’m a virgin,” she said.
“What?” I laughed. “A virginal stripper?”
She wasn’t amused.
“Mouth and ass,” she offered.
“Ass,” I answered as I transferred the pink rose beads from my neck to hers.
“We’re going to need lube.”
The next morning, I woke up to bagels and coffee. I don’t eat bagels, nor do I drink coffee. Abi had gone out early, and Kitty was still sleeping soundly next to me. To try and not seem ungrateful I took a bite of the bagel Abi extended me and then choked down some coffee.
“I want to borrow you,” Abi said. “Your cock rather.”
“I don-,” I started.
“Before you answer come look,” She said as she sat down the bagels and coffee and extended her hand to me. I took her hand, curious to see what sort of plans she had for my cock.
She led me back to the mattress. The black leather mannequin was framed in the shot on the computer.
“Oh hell no,” I laughed.
“No,” she said. “It’s softcore. No actual penetration.”
“Fuck that,” I offered.
Abi explained that it wasn’t a web came thing, she was doing a photo shoot for a particular unnamed site. It was going to be BDSM based. She wanted me to wear a cock ring and that essentially my body would be in the pictures, but my face would be covered by a black leather hood.
“It’s softcore, so simulated sex,” she informed.
I nodded.
It was kind of weird laying there. Having her had free run of my body. I had never been teased as much in my life as I was for the thirty minutes she posed and preened atop my cock. I had also never penetrated another woman so much in such a short amount of time. She slid to varying depths on my shaft clicking and then holding the pose.
“Katy!” Abi called.
I heard Kitty enter, her feet drug across the floor. She walked a little more gingerly than she had the night before. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact she had just woke up, or if she was feeling the aftereffects of last night. Our anal experience hadn’t quite went as planned. Despite her best effort, she couldn’t manage my girth. I ended up settling for a blowjob.
I heard a rapid series of clicks. I imagined Katy was taking shots from behind. Click. Click. Click.
Abi shifted her weight back and she shifting pushed me deeper inside of her.
“I thought this wasn’t supposed to be penetration?” I asked.
“The pictures can’t show the penetration,” she answered. “But we want to simulate it, and what better way to simulate than to actually have It in. We just have to play with the angles a little bit.”
I nodded.
“You okay with that?” she said as she bounced up and down.
“Fuck,” I screamed. My cock throbbed hard inside of her. “You’re a fucking tease.”
Abi giggled. She wriggled back and forth before spinning around to a position akin to reverse cowgirl. I felt up and grabbed a handful of her ass, to which she responded by playfully slapping my hand away.
“A few more Katy,” Abi directed.
Abi had removed my cock completely and now had her hand on it. I could feel the slight prickly of unshaven hair against my hard shaft. Click. Click. Click.
Abi lifted herself back up and onto my tool. I moved up and thrust into her. She scooted, but her weight shifted fully onto me. I was balls deep in her, but the feeling I got wasn’t one of ecstasy or pleasure. There was a sharp sensation that ran down the length of my member and settling in the base of my spine. I jerked hard and push Abi off.
“What the fuck!” I cried.
Stunned into silence Abi and Kitty watched as a I held myself. The pain began to subside almost immediately.
Kitty came over. “Let me see?” she asked.
I slowly pulled back my hand to show her my cock.
“He must have hit my IUD,” Abi said.
“No marks or anything,” Kitty offered.
“That’ll teach you to no go plugging unknown holes,” Abi joked.
“You laugh,” Kitty said, “but you broke your stunt cock.”
Kitty looked at me and smiled. She leaned down and kissed the tip.
“Better now?” she asked.
I nodded.
“You guys have workman’s comp?” I asked.
Abi smiled, and Kitty laughed.
“We’ll have to work something out,” Abi offered.
Disclaimer: So, I’ve told this story over the years, I’ve been argued up and down that IUD’s can’t hurt a guy. Some claim to feel them, but doctors and such say they can’t cause pain. They do admit that during intercourse a man can feel the string. I don’t know. I’m not an expert. I may just have been the way she was situated on my dick, but the pain was very real. Years later, I was dating a girl and we were both shitty drunk laying in bed after a night of partying. We were getting ready to fuck and she mentioned she had a hook in her vagina. I think she thought it was amusing to describe it like that. I asked if she was talking about an IUD. She nodded, I politely declined intercourse and then told her the above story.