Ride On Shooting Star
Keywords: Shooting, On, Ride, Star,
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To my defense, when I had entered that bar that night with my friends, I didn't know the true purpose behind the shady looking place and to this day, wish someone could have at least told me. Warned me of my impending doom, not so much. Just told me what this place was behind the smoke and mirrors.
To me, it looked like a crappy bar that was off the beaten path that boasted of exotic drinks for dirt cheap. Of course, I'm a strictly beer kind of guy, but my friend Dave had insisted that this bar was the place to be, not only for the drinks, but the beautiful women and that's why I went.
The place was smoky and Dave had failed to mention that a large section of it was cut off for dancing, but I had little to complain about. Every woman was extremely beautiful in her own right, from the tall African queens that displayed their curving bodies to full show, to the petite pale princess who gleefully flashed her breasts and giggled when the men roared with approval.
I took a swig from my beer with a shit-eating grin on my face.
No, I couldn't object to the amount of beautiful women here.
Especially the half naked women that were in large amounts, dressed from intricate lace corsets, panties and garters to see through cloth and heels and only.
However, half into the night, one of the few men I had seen in the bar had sat down next to me at a stool and started to talk.
A lot.
I took a blurry look at him - I might have been on his fifth beer or so and tried to focus on his face. The man looked foreign, exotic, but old. His skin was wrinkled and thin-looking, like crushed tissue paper and his hands shook when they sat in his lap, one hand clasping and unclasping a fist every so often. He was dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, unwrinkled and looking as if he had just put the suit on rather than had it on all day and then went to this skuzzy bar.
Over the blaring music, I wasn't exactly sure what the old man was saying, so I kept nodding.
He would say something and I would take a swig of beer and nod.
"Is that so?" I would roar over the music.
He would nod and say something else.
"You don't say."
This awkward one sided conversation continued for several minutes, and before I knew it, the man had leapt off his chair, was clapping his hands, laughing and shaking my hands, yammering off in a language I now knew he never could understand and smiling. Then, he was gone, leaving me to my beers and exotic dancing women.
Of course, that was where my memory blacked out.
***
When I came to, I was laying in a bed that was definitely not my own. The sheets were silky against my bare back, I noticed first. I gingerly sat up, rubbing my aching head and taking in the room. The walls were painted red with tasteful art decorating the place every couple spaces between high windows draped with sheer linen cloth and cream silk. Flowers of all kinds of white and creams were sitting in vases around the overly large bedroom, from the sitting room near the windows that appears to be doors to outside balconies, to beside the bed on the nightstand. The carpet was pure white as well as the curtain drapes that acted as a canopy shade in the giant bed I was currently in. Right in front of me was the door that opened almost the moment I woke up with a killer hangover and the ancient man, followed by two other men in black suits wearing those clichéd sunglasses came in.
"Ah, I see you're awake."
"You can speak English," I accused.
He smiled wryly. "Yes, I can as you can hear. Now," he sat down in a chair to my far off right near one of the tall windows. The bodyguards didn't move from their spot at the door and I suddenly felt very nervous. This was quickly becoming like a bad episode of Law and Order. "I have a proposition that you may have agreed to drunkenly, but I want from you again sober and understanding me."
I frowned. "What is it?"
He smiled more. "I am the owner of a rather large company - I won't bore you with the name or such and I seem to have this," he paused, attempting to find the word to put it delicately. "Problem. You see, I'm getting old,"
"No, really?" I interrupted sarcastically.
"And I'm just not able to do the things I used to do anymore. What's more, I just bought my grandson a very large and expensive gift and what does the little bastard do? Come out of the closet." He tsked, shaking his head. "Damn shame, since it is all paid and bought for and I can't return the gift."
I raised a brow, waiting for him to mention where I came in.
"So you see, I need your help and will pay you handsomely for your troubles."
"What did you buy your grandson?"
He chuckled. "Why, the ultimate male dream."
I frowned. Ultimate male dream? "Never having to work again?"
"No."
"Money?"
"No - he has plenty of that already."
I opened my mouth on my next suggestion and closed it.
No. Surely not.
He couldn't have done that.
The old man smiled enigmatically and nodded his head.
"Yes, yes. A harem."
I stared. Could he even do that?
"Well, technically, I paid the girls to be his girlfriends in public. In reality, the girls more than willingly left their homes in pursuit of more pleasurable, and richer roads and that lead to my home. But, as I said before," he sighed dramatically. "My grandson decided then that it was the perfect time to come out of the closet and decide he liked sleeping with men instead of women."
"You appear disappointed only for the sake of what you bought him. Most grandparents would be more outraged than this."
He smiled. "Oh, I'm not. I had an inkling he might be gay, but I fortunately had the foresight to make him sign over his sperm for heirs when the time came. Other than that, as long as he continues to run the company magnificently, I have no problems who he's sleeping with at night. So," he looked at me with suddenly shrewd eyes. "Do we have a deal?"
"What would I be doing?" I countered. This whole deal stank of illegal.
"Well, I will assign two girls to you as your own and the rest, you simply service to make them all happy."
"You're turning me into a sex slave?" I asked, aghast.
He waved a hand. "Of course not. You can reject any girl you wish, but I do wish you would be sure to make a certain amount happy every night. I can't pay all of you men to sit around when there are girls in need of attention."
"Is this even legal?" I argued. Honestly, it had to be too good to be true.
He raised a brow. "Of course it is. I don't pay the girls or you for sex. I simply pay for food, housing, clothes and any other expense you and everyone else may incur. If you wish to turn this building into one giant library or symposium to debate Japanese literature, then by all means, do so. I am simply relating to you the wishes of the women who currently are in residence here and that is happiness only a man, or another woman can provide."
I sat on the bed, staring at the sheets.
"My job?"
"You can request to work from home or you quit."
"Family?"
"No reason why you can't continue to see or ignore them."
I stared again at the sheets. It was so tempting. Paid to do nothing but pleasure?
"What would I do instead? I won't sit around."
"If you wish to gain another degree part time, that is fine. If you wish to work from here, that is fine as well. As long as it does not interfere."
"And when I want to leave?"
"I will show you the door."
I thought long and hard now. While I was almost done paying off my college debt, I could use the money and it appeared that it wasn't slavery, just a man who was a sick pervert and didn't want to cast out a bunch of women on the streets after finding out his grandson preferred cock. It was almost like he was Hef, but much more hardcore. And I would have two women of my own and I hadn't been laid in months...
"Okay. I'll try this out for awhile."
The old man smiled enigmatically. "Very good."
***
I had gone to take a shower after that fateful conversation and when I had opened the door, a blonde was sitting on my bed, legs open and masturbating furiously. I didn't want to spoil her fun and instead opted to watch her as soon as I got over my exteme shock.
She was tan with a slight smattering of freckles all over her body and her hair, as golden as a buttercup, was long and curly around her voluptuous waist. The thing I noticed first however, besides her fingers dipping into her glistening pussy, was her generous breasts. They were almost perfect, despite their very large size, as she massaged one breast, moaning loudly as her fingers dipped in and out of herself, fast and furious for several minutes, then slow and steady as she squirmed and writhed with pleasure. The hard on I got just watching her was painful as I began to massage my cock, moving up and down, wishing I was those fingers dipping in.
She stopped suddenly.
"I thought I would give you a surprise, but if you aren't interested," she drawled in a slight southern accent. I stepped out from behind the door, my hand around my cock and watching her with an arrogant look, daring her to say anything about my peeping. She licked her lips hungrily.
"I would introduce myself but," she looked down sheepishly at the fingers imbedded in herself. "I really, really need you to fuck me."
"I try not to fuck girls whose names I don't know," I watched her begin to play with herself again. Was this a wet dream or reality? I couldn't tell, or care.
She moaned softly when she inserted another finger into herself. "Mmm. And if I tell you my name, will you fuck me hard?"
I couldn't look away from her fingers going in and out of her pussy. It appeared she had something down there pierced, a lip, a clit, and it was sparkling with her juices every time she would retreat her fingers, only to shove them back in again. She adjusted her hips, spreading out her legs wider and pressed another finger in with her original two, moaning and shivering with excitement at the extra penetration. The hand clutching her breast tightened and she tweaked a nipple, shrieking and moaning again as her head fell back, her hair moving on the silk pillow behind her head.
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Keywords: Shooting, On, Ride, Star,