The Of Girl Ch 81 90

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All Characters are 18 years or older.

When a law office intern discovers that a fellow intern is one of his favourite new OnlyFans performers, a ball begins rolling that will bring a boring summer of paperwork and coffee-fetching into an avalanche of sexual adventure. Fair warning to readers, this story will jump categories. This collection of chapters includes a chaotic date leading into MF sex.

OFG is a variation story based on the setup by Aurelian14, and is an ongoing patronized work sponsored by him. Originally written in small chapter releases, they will be collected here on Literotica in 10 chapter chunks for smoother reading.

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Chapter 81

The good news was that the show started off fine. The host, a pretty average-looking guy with a close-cropped beard, opened the Open Mic night with some bland jokes at the participant's expense, and reminded the crowd to tip their waitresses and to laugh or groan as much as they wanted.

Then he introduced the first 'comedian.' It was a big guy, heavily muscled and he looked like he was probably juiced up. He had an awkward start, catching a few chuckles from the crowd with his stiffness more than being funny. Each act was going to get ten minutes, and he went through her material in about six.

You and Gemma had spent more time looking at each other than the guy, and you had to assume he had noticed this.

"So I guess it's time for me to do some crowd work," he announced - already just a painful transition. Then he stomped across the stage right in front of you. "What's your name, honey?"

You bristled at the audacity and glanced at Gemma to check if she wanted you to do anything, but she met your eye quickly and gave you a half-wink. "Gemma," she said.

"And what's a girl like you doing out with a guy like this?" he asked.

"Well, I thought we were at a comedy show, but it looks like they forgot to screen for funny," Gemma retorted. She said it was a smirk, and I saw that the game was on.

The guy rocked back a bit as a couple of other people in the crowd chuckled. His nostrils flared and he frowned. "I'm not surprised really. I could feed you my funny bone and make you laugh over and over."

"Oh, that explains everything," you said, and turned to Gemma but kept talking loudly. "All the steroids shrunk his funny bone along with his cock."

This got us a few more laughs, and the guy was starting to go red. He lifted an arm and flexed. To be fair to him, it was an impressive muscle, but he looked ridiculous doing it. "Boy, I could fold you in half and-"

"Alright, and that's time for Corey Muscles," the host said, stepping on stage and getting between the muscle-bound comedian and us. He said something to the guy away from the mic, and the guy backed off but didn't stop glaring at us. Once he was gone, the host checked his clipboard. "Alright, let's get a change of pace. Next up, give a warm welcome to the Mistress of Mayhem, Julie Miles!"

A woman, probably in her late twenties, strutted onto the stage wearing thigh-high black leather boots, booty shorts and a leather corset. To be quite frank, the outfit wasn't working for her. She was built wide, and you would have been hard-pressed to find a way to consider her attractive. Thankfully you didn't have to try and find a way to try to describe her, because once she stepped on stage she said. "What's up, what's up, party people! I'm Julie Miles, but I like my bitches to call me their Bull Dyke!"

It went downhill from there. She got some laughs based purely on how crude she was, but that was about it. About halfway into her set, she asked the audience, "So who here eats pussy?"

Several people in the crowd gave shouts from the darkness, and Gemma laughed and gave you a playful shove as you grinned at each other. Julie Miles, Bull Dyke must have seen it because she waddled over towards us. "Uh oh, looks like our princess over here has a frog on her hands. I saw that look, don't tell me your date doesn't work out at the Y!"

"Oh, he does," Gemma grinned, reaching under the table and squeezing your knee out of sight. You knew she was both assuring you, and also asking you to let her take this one.

"Wait, is that an Australian accent?" Julie asked.

"Well it isn't Scottish," Gemma heckled.

"So then I guess you know all about going down under then, huh?" Julie retorted.

"Everything I know about it I've learned from him," Gemma said, glancing at you with a smile.

"Oh, god no," Julie scoffed. "Honey, let me tell you - you ain't had a good pussy licking until you've been with a proper lesbian. Let me guess, he spends about five minutes down there, then pops and sticks it in?" Julie seemed to have the sense to try and at least pivot into whatever joke she wanted to get to, but Gemma wasn't letting her escape.

"Actually," she said loudly. "It's more like twenty minutes of heaven."

This stopped Julie in her tracks and forced her to pivot back to the conversation. "It takes him twenty minutes to turn you on? Look, girly, if you want me to teach him some lessons I charge by the hour and I can't be held responsible for your starting to question your orientation."

To Julie's credit, this netted her some laughs from the crowd.

"Oh, no," Gemma said. "Twenty minutes gets me to orgasm number four or five. But if you want some lessons, I'm sure we could arrange a demonstration. You just gotta be careful, you might find your Bull Dyke status taking a trip back down the Kinsey scale."

This set Julie back on her heel for a moment, and you could see the host hovering off the side of the stage, clearly annoyed that he might need to intervene again.

"Oh, honey. Seems like someone's had too many drinks," Julie said and turned back to the audience.

Gemma snorted. Loud and long. And the look on her face was screaming '

Hah, coward

.'

Julie stopped again. "You got a problem, bitch?"

This got some mutters from the crowd.

"Just waiting for you to say something that isn't about someone's pussy," Gemma said. "Are you really that downbad that it's the only thing on your mind, ever? You know you could always ring up an escort service, though they might charge extra wedged into those boots like that."

"Aaaand that's time," the host said, sliding on stage and taking the mic from Julie before she could retort. "Alright, it's a fun crowd tonight! Nice and rowdy, just the way we like it. Next up on the stage..."

Chapter 82

As the next act started, the host scuttled around through the crowd and approached your table.

"Hey," he said to you and Gemma quietly. "Just so you know, heckling isn't cool."

"They approached us both times," Gemma countered. "If they don't want to take shit, they shouldn't try to give shit."

The host opened his mouth, but then frowned and nodded.

"Look, we're just here to have a good time and support my roommate," you said. "We're not looking to start heckling."

The host sighed. "Well, you've got two options. I can either move you to a new table and it'll probably blow over, or if you two stay here it's gonna become a thing. Benny up there doesn't try to do crowd work, but a lot of the Open Mic performers try and fill time by practising crowd work even if they are shit at it. I guarantee they are already back there getting riled up by Corey and Julie, and we've got a couple of our semi-pro's who won't hold back."

Gemma looked to you to see if you had an opinion. "I don't care either way," you said. "Are you having fun?"

"Yes," Gemma smirked and turned to the host. "We're fine where we are. We could use a waitress though. We're going to need some beers if we're going to do this right."

"You got it, and your funeral," the host shook his head with a wry grin.

By the time 'Benny' finished his lackluster spot, one of the waitresses had come over and taken your order.

The host got everyone to clap for Benny, and then told a couple of jokes that got more laughs than the first three acts put together, before introducing the next act.

And the host was right - this guy told about two minutes of minorly funny jokes, and then pivoted and started trying to engage you. He tried taking a shot at you for your job as an intern, which you pointed out you made more money in one summer than he would for a year of open mic. Then he tried to bash you for wanting to be a lawyer and you quipped that being a lawyer was a great way to learn to speak in public, and that maybe he should try some classes to figure out how to engage with an audience since you were all starting to fall asleep.

The next act came in hot, talking about young couples thinking they were hot shit but clearly they didn't know anything because the divorce rate was skyrocketing. Then he asked Gemma if you were rich and she was a gold-digger, and warned you that you were going to be a statistic. Gemma asked how many times he'd been divorced, and that shut him up quickly.

The act after him was clearly the newest of all the wanna-be comedians who had been up so far. Each of his jokes he started with 'So did you guys hear...?' and he read a bunch of jokes about Australia off his phone. He got booed off stage, and you and Gemma didn't even start it.

Then the Host introduced one of their 'regular crowd favourites', and you had to assume it was one of the semi-pros he had mentioned.

Oscar Benicio was a Hispanic guy who dressed up like an office worker, complete with a frumpy suit with a pocket protector and a ratty tie. He started his spot with gusto, and actually did start warming up the crowd, but you saw he kept glancing sideways at you and Gemma. When the waitress quietly circulating the room came to your table and you and Gemma started whispering your request for another pair of beers, he paced across the stage and cleared his throat into the mic. "Ahem. Children?"

You and Gemma turned to look at him, curious as to why he was interrupting something that everyone in the room was doing. You also heard the annoyed sigh of the waitress, who just wanted to take our order and get her tip.

"Children," Oscar said again. "It's rude to talk when someone else has the mic. Didn't your parents teach you any better?"

You and Gemma glanced at each other, trying to decide who was going to take this one, and Oscar jumped on the hesitation. "That's right, children. Behave, and maybe we'll give you a sucker on your way out. People here paid for a show, not to listen to you talking."

"Sorry, miss," I said loudly to the waitress. "I guess we're not allowed to order any drinks without upsetting wannabe George Lopez?"

"Hey, motherfucker," Oscar said. "That's fucking racist."

"Why?" I asked. "Because you stole that second joke of yours from the third season of his show, or because you can't actually think of anything funny to say?"

"What, hey, I didn't steal any jokes!" Oscar fumed.

"Alright, dude," you said. "Don't freak out. Just go watch the show, I'm sure you just did it by accident."

"What the fuck? Hey, security, get this punk out of here," Oscar said.

The host, sighing and shaking his head, got up on stage and talked to Oscar, who shoved the mic into the host's chest and stormed off.

"Did he really steal that joke?" the waitress asked you.

"I've got no idea," you said. "I've never even seen an episode of the George Lopez show, but the way he got so pissed makes me wonder."

Gemma laughed, and the waitress just rolled her eyes and took your order.

Tasha, the woman Mosche was interested in, was up next and she killed it, at least by the standard of the night so far. You and Gemma laughed supportively, which seemed to almost be like giving the rest of the room permission to laugh as well. Tasha obviously needed some more practice, but she was a solid entry for the night and you had to wonder if she was going to fall into the trap the others had. When she came over and sat on the edge of the stage next to you and Gemma, you got a little worried.

"Alright, so I've gotta ask," she said, still holding the microphone. "Everyone backstage is fuming about 'the blonde bimbo and the bean pole' out here ruining the night. So blondie, I've got a question for you - he's gotta be big, right?"

"Oh yeah," Gemma said. "But that's not why I'm with him. Just a happy surprise."

"OK, but like, this big?" Tasha asked, holding the mic up and measuring with her hands.

"Bigger," Gemma said.

"This big?" Tasha asked, moving her hands apart another inch.

Gemma just shook her head with a smile.

"

This

big?" Tasha asked, moving her hands another couple of inches."

"That's about right," Gemma said.

"I don't believe you," Tasha said. "Girl, that kinda dick would end my life. There's no way he's

that

big."

Gemma scooted her chair to the side and then reached into your lap, rubbing her hand down your cock and thigh until she was cupping the end, then she stretched your pants over it to show Tasha the outline.

"Holy shit, she's not joking!" Tasha laughed. "She just showed me the outline of it in his pants, folks! God damn dude, if we hear about a girl murdered by clubbing tonight, we are

all

witnesses that you're carrying a deadly object in your pants."

Tasha pivoted, rounding out her ten minutes with a joke about her disappointment with her first 'big dick', which got some more laughs and light applause.

Mosche was next, and thankfully he didn't eat shit and bomb. He wasn't great either - Tasha was better than him already, to be honest, mostly due to her natural confidence - and thankfully he didn't try and engage with you or Gemma.

The host announced an intermission, and you and Gemma stood up to stretch.

Chapter 83

Mosche met you and Gemma at the bar, Tasha in tow.

"Hey buddy," you said. "That went great!"

"Yeah, thanks," he said with a grin

"You did really well too, Tasha," Gemma said. "Congratulations."

"Ah, I still have a long way to go yet," Tasha waved off the compliment. "You two definitely set a fire in the back room though. People are pissed no one is getting to you, and Oscar is furiously trying to figure out if he ripped off a joke from some old TV show or not."

"Oops," you said, not feeling bad at all.

"Just a forewarning, Tommy Lin came in randomly tonight - he's one of the hotshots a lot of the semi-pros look up to because he's a full-time comic. They're all feeding him info and ideas to rip into your two," Tasha said.

"Oh, it wouldn't be that bad I don't think," Mosche said. "Tommy doesn't really do crowd work."

"I saw him deal with an actual heckler once though," Tasha said. "He got the guy so mad that he actually took a swing at Tommy."

You turned to Gemma. "You want to stick around for this, or maybe we take this date on the move and go for a walk?"

Gemma squeezed your hand twice, which you were holding down at your sides, as she seemed to think about it. "I dunno, what were you thinking?"

"There's usually a gourmet hotdog food truck parked down the block from here on Fridays," you said. "Let's grab some food."

"You just want to see me with a sausage in my mouth, don't you?" Gemma smirked, making Tasha guffaw a bit and then laugh. It took Mosche a hot second to catch on to the innuendo.

"So what if I do?" you countered. "How's that Nickleback song go? 'Cause you look so much cuter with something in your mouth'?"

Gemma scoffed playfully and bit her bottom lip as she thumped you on the shoulder.

"From what I saw, he's got a whole footlong for you," Tasha teased Gemma. "If I were you, I wouldn't even be stopping for food. We'd already be back at my place for some homemade gourmet snacks."

"Oh, don't worry," Gemma said, whispering conspiratorially. "This whole date is just intermission between the real fun."

"Damn, girl!" Tasha laughed.

Back over at the stage, the host started talking into the mic and calling people back to their tables.

"Alright, we're on our way out," you said. "You two have fun with the rest of the night. Mosche, I don't think you should expect me back at the apartment tonight."

"Remember what I said," Tasha grinned. "If a pretty blonde turns up dead on the news tomorrow, I'm letting the cops know you killed her with your cock."

"Harrharr," you said.

As you and Gemma turned towards the exit, you thought you heard Tasha say to Mosche, "So, you've got the apartment to yourself tonight, huh?"

Once you were outside of the club, you found the night had settled in and things had cooled off nicely. You spotted the food truck down the street and turned towards it.

"That was fun," Gemma said, swinging your hands between you happily. "We should really go see an actual show this summer and not just an Open Mic though."

"I'd like that," you said. "Maybe we don't sit in the front row for that, though."

"What, afraid of taking on the pros?" Gemma grinned at you.

"No, I just don't want to need to leave halfway through because the headliner doesn't want to contend with you," you laughed. "I can hold my own, but you destroyed that second woman with one hand tied behind your back."

"Hey, John?" Gemma said.

"Mhmm?"

"I love you," she said with a shy smile.

"I love you, too," you smiled back. You stopped walking and she pressed her front to yours, tilting her chin up to kiss you lightly.

"My ex would have been embarrassed by tonight," she said. "But you went along and rolled with the punches. And you made it feel totally normal to be saying 'I love you' even if it's way too early. You're making me feel really, really special."

"That's only because you

are

really, really special, love," you said, holding her hips as you looked down at her in the light of the streetlamp.

She kissed you again, firmer and softer at the same time. Insistent. "Let's eat," she said quietly. "And then I want you to take me home and fuck me so fucking hard that I squirt like Sabrina did the other night."

Now you kissed her, and then you walked down the rest of the way to the food truck. You ordered for both of you and Gemma insisted on paying since you had covered the club and drinks. A couple of the other people at the truck recognized you from the club and scowled at you - apparently, they thought you had ruined their night out. Then a trio of ladies came from down the other direction of the street, yammering loud and drunk about the club they had just left.

You saw Gemma listening in, and once the two of you hand hungrily scarfed down your 'gourmet' hotdogs you tossed the trash. "Alright," you asked. "Your place, or dancing?"

She beamed at you, confused and happy. "How did you know I was thinking that?"

"Because I'm paying attention, Gemma," you said. "And I love you."

"Every bit of the codeword, huh?" she asked.

"Every bit," you said, nuzzling the tip of your nose against hers.

"Dancing, just for a bit," she said. "I love dancing."

"Then we're dancing," you agreed.

The club, a place inanely called 'Here', was a block away and you quickly found the line to get in. There were about a dozen people ahead of you in line, and you were standing and chatting for a couple of minutes when a taxi pulled up to the curb and disgorged a bunch of guys.

"Oh, God," you groaned.

"What?" Gemma asked.

"Oh, hey you guys!" Eric said, grinning like mad. "Gemma, looking hot!"

Chapter 84

"I didn't know you guys liked going to the club," Eric said, sliding into line behind you and Gemma. "Here is usually pretty good. We just came from Nobody. Nobody was there, so we came here."

You really couldn't be sure if Eric did it on purpose or not.

"This is a spontaneous stop," you told him. "Gemma felt like dancing, so here we are."

"Nice," he said, and blatantly looked Gemma over again. "How come you don't wear this to the office?"