Aron Needs a Little More Than Dental Floss

It was hot, humid, and muggy. Hadn't these people heard of air conditioning? I was glowing– since mother said ladies don't sweat– brightly enough to light up a corner of Vegas. Trails of sweat, um, glow were trickling down my chest, melting into my bra. It was irritating to be in this paradise in my Akron, Ohio suit. God damn TWA. The dim interior of the shop the hotel's concierge had recommended did not bode well for my plans at wardrobe replenishment. The only word on the door that I understood was bikini. Angela spoke Spanish, but I had my doubts about her literacy. She wasn't the brightest bottle-blonde on the block.

Oh my God, was that a

dildo

on the wall? The door slapped shut with a jingle of cow bells. Spanish pornography littered the place, big breasted women graced magazine covers, a dusty selection of massage oils littered a shelf, and a TV was playing some Spanish version of Debbie Does Puerto Rico. Off in one corner stood a surprisingly stylishly dressed mannequin with no hair. Ange ignored the porn and made a beeline for that bastion of femininity. I made a nervous glance around. Maybe no one would notice us.

The clientele had already noticed us. Mostly male, most locals. They stared overtly, covertly, or just plainly. I could feel their eyes boring into us, the two oddities that we were. I heard the words gringas and chi-chis and even hot, white bitch bandied around at a stage whisper. Maybe that black belt in jeet kun do would come in handy after all. It would be rather ironic to have my very unfeminine interests validated by defending my own honor. My mother would have a massive coronary. She would probably rather have me raped than have me defend my own feminine honor.

"You have got to be kidding," I snorted when Ange pointed out the dressing facility. A sheet tacked to the wall.

She laughed, shaking her head. "When in Rome, toga."

"Oh shut up, lets shop." I looked around the store forlornly, it was such a dive. And the men, I tried not to gag. "I wanna be on the beach with all those hunky guys and something cold and alcoholic."

"What about these guys?" She asked with a careless wave of her hand.

I fixated on Manuelito, or whatever his name was, a short, stubby kinda guy with brown polyester pants, a cream colored shirt, stained, with mother of pearl snaps going down his big belly rather than buttons, and a toothpick. He grinned toothlessly. I wondered what the toothpick was for, on second thought, I didn't wonder. I turned my back, trying not to shudder. "Ange, I can get better guys back in Akron."

"Here." She shoved a bunch of hangers with multicolored dental floss on them in my hands. No wait, it was a bunch of bikinis. I held one up, it was Dodge Viper Red in color, with a Dodge Viper pricetag on it, oh those were in pesos. Scared the hell out of me for a moment. "I think you should get the black one."

"It's dental floss, Ange. I need a little bit more than dental floss to cover my ass."

She just smirked at me.

I looked at her, wrinkling my face, she obviously didn't think I had the balls, make that cajones, to try the dental floss on. "You don't think I'll try ‘em on."

"Face it, Con, you're a prude."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. You wouldn't take your clothes off in the company of strange men if they were on fire," she taunted. Oh that bitch. She knew I couldn't resist a dare.

"Fine," I said nonchalantly, trying to fix a bored expression on my face. I took off my blouse and handed it to her. I tried not to think of all those slimy eyeballs touching my naked body.

"Constance? What the hell? Are you trying to get raped?" she demanded, looking around nervously.

"Quit egging me on." I handed her my skirt as well.

Shocking to no one, I'd managed to get the attention of our fellow patrons. Manuelito, or whoever the heck he was, had dropped his big, lusty chicana smut rag. He had the deer in the headlight syndrome. I looked down at my chest, well, perhaps the headlights weren't all that bad, then pulled off the bra, handing it to the equally gape-mouthed Ange.

I could feel my nipples hardening and shrugged it off to air-conditioning. It didn't even bother my delusion to consider that there was no air-conditioning. I didn't want them to touch me, those sweaty, dirty men, but I liked the fact that they were staring at my chest and getting off on it. I, Constance MacGregor, was single-handedly turning on a room full of men.

"Pardon me, senorita?" The man who apparently ran the place cut it. His eyes latched onto my breasts when I faced him. Well now, this was much better. More like the hunks on the beach that I'd previously envisioned frolicking with, only more real. More human. "We do have a dressing room for your convenience."

"You speak English very well." I wiggled out of my panties.

"I learned how in Boston." He waved it aside. "The men here are, they are not as civilized as your American men." The way he put it, civilized sounded as if it meant pussywhipped. "You are inviting them to do something you may not want them to do. Ah, how to put this delicately, you are asking for it." "Ange here takes Taebo." I handed him my panties. "Hold these please."

"Tae... you must be joking senorita."

"Yes I am, she just goes there to oggle the instructor. How did a fine, gorgeous man like yourself get all the way from Boston to here?" I asked, casually sliding the bikini bottoms over my hips. He licked his lips.

"Take it off gringa!" one of the men howled. He was followed by other raucous calls and wolf whistles. Ange glared at them.

"I think this fits, do you think this fits, Boston?" I asked, turning my back to him and arching out my ass. I pulled at the string running through my ass, well hidden by the cheeks. "This feels a little loose, what do you think?"

"Fine," he squeaked in a high soprano. For a purveyor of pornography he seemed rather shy. "Just fine."

I wanted him. The hunks on the beach and the jet setting corporate guys on vacation were out of luck. This one was mine. Now to get him to agree to that...

"You can't tell by looking, I'm not much for string bikinis, no call for them in Akron. I'm sure you know much more about them," I said, looking back over my shoulder. "Here, tug on this, tell me if it's okay. I don't want to buy something that doesn't fit right. Caveat emptor, honey."

He licked his lips again, blushing, and, accompanied by the raucous catcalls of his patrons, he reached out and tugged delicately with two fingers. The material slid through my pussy lips and over my clit. I moaned, a little more than the sensation called for, perhaps. He jerked his hand away.

"Does it fit, Boston?" I asked, trying for an anxious tone. I knew that I failed when his eyes met mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then a slow grin made its way from his eyes to his lips.

"I had better check the fit again. To be sure," he replied, then slid his fingers between my legs. "Here, it is a little loose," he said helpfully, then slid his finger past the tiny bit of floss and into my pussy.

"No..." I tried not to groan. He began to withdraw his finger. "I think that fits perfectly."

"Do you want me to take you here, in front of all these men, Akron?" he demanded. His finger fully returning once again.

"It doesn't matter where you take me, Boston. Just do it." The thought of all those lascivious eyes watching me fuck this beautiful man was almost hotter than actually fucking. He grinned when he felt my pussy wash his fingers in juice.

"Constance!" Angie was flabbergasted, to say the very least. "What in the hell are you doing? You could get herpes or something. Or worse, you could get

pregnant!

"

Boston pressed himself fully against my back. The heat of skin burned against the heat of mine, he'd removed some of his garments. One handed too, I was duly impressed with his skill. He slid his free hand, shades darker than my skin, down my flat belly and into my puss. "That wouldn't be so bad, eh Akron?"

"Only if you get some air conditioning, Boston," I said, spreading my legs just a bit wider. He touched my clit, making me squeal.

"Sing for me, Akron. You are a dirty gringa, letting me have you in front of all these men." He fitted the head of his penis to the opening of my vagina and rubbed, slowly, back and forth, up and down my slit. "You will do wonders for my business."

"Oh my gawd, Con." Angie was staring at my pussy and his finger.

Boston wriggled his body against me, rubbing the hard head over my clit. Angie's eyes moved from his prick to my face and back. He slipped his finger from my puss to my breasts, circling one of my nipples until it was gleaming wet. He bent over and licked it clean. "You taste good, Akron."

I pushed some videos from a table to the floor and sat on it, spreading my legs as wide as could without falling off. "It tastes better from the source, Boston. Fresher." My eyes slid around the room to the various patrons who were transfixed by my pussy. Ange went for the Brazilian Wax, I went for the whole thing.

"Oh my gawd, Con," Angie said again.

Boston laughed and took one of my feet. He kissed and licked his way from my ankle along to my knee. His fingers delved into my pussy while he nibbled on my calf, opening it up and displaying the wetness in the dirty light. He slid two fingers in as far as they would go moments before attaching his lips to my clit. I threw my head back and moaned. He was a genius with his tongue and talented with his fingers. He played my pussy like a piano virtuoso played a Steinway.

The feeling of being watched while I took my pleasure from Boston was unbelievably hot. I never knew that I could get so turned on. I looked at the various customers through my glazed eyes, then at Ange. Her eyes were devouring the two of us, her nipples were forcing their way through her silk sundress, and her fingers were abortively touching her pussy through the light blue silk.

I met her eyes, stared hard at her until she licked her lips, then deliberately dropped my gaze to where her fingers rested over her panties. Lifting my eyes back to hers, I watched her blush, then shiver. After a moment, her dress crept upwards, until I could see her panties. She pulled them aside and slid her fingers over her wet pussy. She moaned softly and swirled a fingertip around her clit. I came all over Boston's face.

He paused to kiss my belly, then my breast, then a lingering one on my lips on his way to standing up. I watched in frank appreciation while he stripped completely. Chiseled chest, muscular abs, broad shoulders, and a beautiful set of balls topped by a gorgeous, and hard, cock. I never considered wondering where it had been, only where I wanted to stick it. My pussy was a damned fine place to start. My mouth watered for it as well. He stared at me, an eyebrow lifted as if to say, like what you see? I grinned at him, then dove in for a tasty mouthful of cock.

His hands clamped on my head and he groaned. Angela dropped to her knees next to me, her eyes watching my mouth devour his thick shaft. Some of the guys in the audience offered me instruction in broken English, others just stared. He rode my mouth shallowly for a few moments, then tangled his hand in Ange's hair. He gently pushed me off of his cock and tugged her to it. I frowned, not in the mood to share him or the spotlight. She looked at me uncertainly for a moment, then opened her lips and let it slide inside.

I stared, so that's what it looked like. Her cheeks hollowed when he pulled back until just the tip touched her lips, then they sort of bulged a little when he pushed himself back in. My jaw dropped when she shut her eyes and worked her throat. He groaned deep inside of himself, his cock sliding down her throat. He wasn't the biggest around, but he was long enough to bounce off of my tonsils. Ange deep-throated him without an ounce of trouble. I never knew she could do that.

One of our impromptu audience members grew some cajones of his own. He touched me on the shoulder and tugged on my hair. His fat cock was inches from my face. No way. I slapped his hand away and managed to stick my head between Ange and Boston. I rubbed one of his balls with my tongue, then gave up. She curled her fingernails into his hips, and guided him into fucking her face in earnest.

I watched the cock thrusting in and out of her mouth for a moment, then traced the slim line of her neck with my eyes and down past her collarbones to the neckline of her silk dress. I touched her bare shoulder, then tugged the straps down her arms. A quick tug of her zipper and the dress pooled down her body, leaving her naked except for her panties. She paused, her eyes flicking at me for a moment, then she shut them and resumed sucking. Acquiescence. I dropped to my hands and knees, arching my back, and licked her nipple.

Somewhere behind me, Mr. Happycock touched my ass. I kicked out at him and landed a solid thump in his belly. Returning my attention to Ange, I kissed down her belly and licked her navel. She shifted, spreading her legs.

"Oh yeah, Akron, lick her cunt. You're a nasty bitch, I think I love you," Boston growled. That was all the encouragement I needed to break into new sexual territory, I'd kick his ass for calling me a bitch later.

I crawled around behind Ange and stuck my head between her legs. Grabbing her ass with both hands, I pulled her down until I could bury my tongue inside of her. She half squealed, half moaned around his cock and rubbed her pussy on my face.

"Spread your legs, Akron, I wanna see your pussy."

I did him one better. I put my feet solidly on the floor and tilted my hips up. One hand slipped between my legs and I rubbed my swollen lips. I loved the feel of his eyes on my pussy. I could hear the sound of feet as one moved for a better look at me.

Boston grunted. I looked up past Ange's pointy nipples to see him hold her face still and pour his sperm down her throat. She heaved a heavy breath of her own, twitched her clit against my tongue and teeth, and came in a rush of pussy juice. I lapped at her, my thoughts a jumble of oral sex and the eyes of the approving audience around us. Tasting a cunt for my first time was sweet, but having so many watch me do it was incredibly arousing. Someone's cum landed on my ankle. I lashed my own clit with my fingers and went after hers with my tongue until I came along with them.

Ange rolled off the side, leaning against the table. Boston sat down next to me on the floor. His semi-hard cock flopped onto his thigh and its unblinking eye stared at me. I scooted against his leg and kissed it. His fingers slipped into my hair. "You want more, Akron?"

"I want all of you, Boston."

He sucked in a deep breath when I delicately nibbled on the head of his cock. It nudged at my teeth. He looked around at his silent customers. "In front of all these men?"

"Oh yeah, I want them to watch you fuck me." I sucked on the head of his cock until it had grown as much as it was going to. It was like a piece of rebar and it was mine. "Give them something really good to jack off over."

Boston laughed and cleared the table completely off with a careless sweet of his arm. He sat on it, facing the semi-circle of avidly interested men, with his cock pointing toward the ceiling. "Climb on, my nasty little gringa, ride me."

Grinning, I put my knee on the table, preparing to mount him. He put his hands on my ass cheeks, pulling them up and apart. His mouth sucked on mine, giving me the hottest kiss I'd ever been a part of.

"They're staring at your pretty cunt and your tight little ass, Akron," he whispered when he broke the kiss. I shivered against him. He turned me around, my back pressing against his chest. "Now they're staring at your tits. You like that?"

"It gets me all wet," I admitted. I could feel him smiling against my neck.

"Get on the table Akron, let them see your pussy stuffed with cock."

The tabled groaned under my additional weight. I stood over him for a moment, my pussy in his face. He took the opportunity to lick it, then turned me around so I faced them. He pulled my cheeks apart again, his tongue sliding between them. I opened my eyes and took a good look at my audience. Most of them had their flies open, cocks in hand. One or two had stripped entirely. They looked better naked than clothed.

Slowly, my eyes never leaving them, I squatted down until his cock touched my ass. I reached between my legs and grabbed him at the base, tugging the head forward until it nudged at my lips. I rubbed my pussy on it, watching them. I imagined that they could see the deep red head of his cock kissing my clit through the swollen lips of my cunt. Boston leaned back on his elbows.

I was so hot from the eyes caressing my pussy, that I could feel my juice dripping down the shaft of his cock and onto my fingers. I wondered if it glistened in the light. My gaze flitted from one to another, watching hands rub and jerk on erections. It was hotter than hell knowing that they were getting off because of me. I pushed the tip of Boston's cock into my pussy, just enough to hold it, then leaned backward as well. Braced on my hands, I rocked my body on the thick cock between my legs. He drove in deeper with each thrust, filling my pussy completely.

I shut my eyes and wriggled back against Boston. His fingers found my clit again, lightly flicking at it. The blood pounded in my ears, his cock burned inside my body, and his finger started a raging fire in my clit. I'm not too sure, but I think I screamed. A lot. I was vaguely aware of Boston's grunting behind me, climaxed by a long distended groan as he came deep inside.

I could hear our audience cum with us. Fists slapped along the length of cocks, grunts, and the unmistakable scent of cum.

Boston gently rubbed my clit through all of my trembling aftershocks. His breath stirred my hair with its heat and his cock slowly softened in my body, slipping out. "You're the kinkiest woman I've ever met, Akron. I am in love."

The weather was turning from indian summer to winter. The skies were overcast more often than not, a sure sign of the snow to come. She made her way into the warm kitchen and her fresh pot of tea, her old bones and winter didn't get along. She was thinking of moving to Phoenix, maybe Florida, pretty soon. The heat and serenity would be a boon to her creaking joints.

She put the mail down on the table next to her chair, then shuffled over to the teapot and poured herself a lovely bit of Earl Grey. Carrying it back to her chair, she sat down with all the regal bearing of a princess. Florida would be nice.

Just as soon as she saw her youngest daughter, Constance, married off. Vera Ridgewalter's cousin's eldest boy was a successful proctologist in Toledo. He was relocating to Akron to establish a practice here, so he could be closer to his mother and family. He would be a good match for Constance. She worried about that girl, always running wild and doing the most atrocious unladylike things.

She blamed Constance's father for that, he encouraged her dreadfully. Like that Bruce Lee stuff. It was an embarassment. Perhaps it would be best if she just didn't mention it to Emmett, the proctologist. She was meeting him this afternoon at an informal soiree at Vera's. Yes, that would be best, glossing over Constance's ridiculous tendencies. With any luck he wouldn't learn about them until after they'd been safely married off.

Picking up an odd priority mail envelope with no return address, she frowned. She checked the cancellation stamp, she didn't know anyone in Las Vegas. It was a cheap, tacky town, she wouldn't be caught dead there. Curious, she opened the envelope.

Her scream echoed through the large, tudor style home and down the street, promting the dogs to bark. Moments later, it eerily cut off as she fainted dead away.