It all began innocently enough, as most things usually do. Jane, Connie and Arlene were enjoying a ladies night out, except they were on top of a bluff overlooking the ocean, inside the Pacific Palisades house that Hideki had purchased for his wife. Herman was there too; he rarely left Jane's side. By now he was used to the cock clamp that Connie insisted he wear whenever he was around her, and Jane readily agreed to it, even if for different reasons - he looked so neutered and frustrated; that was her rationale. But Herman was nothing if not resourceful, and he came to like the chafing and scraping that resulted whenever his bone expanded, which was frequent. After a while, the sensation of his erect penis being pressed against the metal barrier got more and more arousing, which made it chafe even more and long for relief.
It could have been a disaster, but Herman had found a way to rub and play with his penis through the metal contraption. As necessity is the mother of invention, he discovered that he could insert a feather between the narrow slit openings and tickle his taut, tingling erection until it went off. To be sure, he would have preferred the warm touch of a human hand, but the end result was the same, and he was always careful to wipe the spilled cum from the clamp so nobody would know what he had done in the bathroom. Nail cuticles worked even better than feathers, and a dull edge of a thin, tiny screwdriver that he had customized...but we digress.
The last time the ladies had gone out they were commiserating about the recent changes in their lives. Connie felt the
Soapland
show had peaked and was running out of steam. "You can only do the same thing so many times before it gets predictable, and boring. It's tough to come up with good storylines; shit, it's tough to come up with new faces all the time."
"Big fucking deal," Jane retorted. Her troubles were many. She was so involved in the porn side of Hideki's empire that she had little time to do what she liked best, which was make Donkey films. She wanted to get back to directing videos, and maybe even appearing in them, but most of Donkey's resources were devoted to Connie's show.
"I may be able to help you both out," Arlene had said, and here they were, a few weeks later, in Jane's living room, high on Mimosas and marijuana. Herman loved it when they got fucked up, because they were always wearing short skirts or dresses and they'd forget about decorum and care not that their panties might be exposed. It was a game for him - his eyes riveted to crossed legs and skirt hemlines - to see how long he could hold out before returning to the bathroom and the secret spot where he hid his 'utensils'.
"You guys aren't going to believe this," Arlene said, excitedly. "I lost it, I totally, fucking lost it, when I first saw this." The ladies didn't modify their conversation because the naked man-boy was hanging around; they knew it excited him. Arlene loved teasing Herman, naked and vulnerable, and Connie did too, at least when he wore the clamp. They assumed it was torture for him, and what a struggle it must be, between his perverted urges and the confines of the clamp, to remain soft, lest the device crush his little pee-pee and have him cry out in agony. He deserved nothing less, the pervert. Jane, however, was observant enough to notice the smug and satisfied grin he wore every time he returned from the bathroom.
The ladies settled back in their chairs as the big screen television came to life. "Get us some refills, bugger-boy," said Jane, "and stop looking up our dresses!" Herman sighed. He was hoping they'd be too engrossed in the porn to worry about upskirts. He already knew that Connie's were yellow, Arlene's were sheer black, and Jane...well, he picked them out himself, so he knew what she had on.
Pretty quickly though, Herman forgot all about Jane's long legs, Connie's thunder thighs, and Arlene's hand reaching down under her panties; what a fucking video they were watching!
There were two young men on the screen, naked naturally, and both were beautiful specimens: blond, lean and hungry, college-aged, and boy did they have whoppers. One guy had shoulder-length hair, parted in the middle, and looked like a stoner, surfer dude. He faced another blondie, one with short, curly hair and an angelic face that looked like it came from a Raphael painting.
"That's Tom on the left, and Jim on the right. Jim Horn. What a great porn name," Arlene cackled.
"Girl, you did your research," replied Jane.
"I think...I mean, it's business, right? They look like studs. We always need studs."
"Are they regulars?" Connie was already thinking about how she could use them.
"I don't know. I spent twenty minutes on the Internet, and I couldn't find anything else."
"Fresh meat," said Connie. "I like that."
"Herman, you listening?"
"Of course, Miss Jane."
"When this film's over, use your internet skills to check out the two dicks." Jane turned to Arlene. "Trust me," she said. "He'll know everything there is to know about them."
Jim's boned cock hardened and rose at a slight upward angle. Jane guessed it to be between ten and eleven inches. "You ought to know," Connie said, "You're the size queen."
"Said the woman who's banging Big Bill."
Arlene cleared her throat. "Can we watch the film please?" Silence ensued, as Tom and Jim began to engage in some hot and heavy homo action. "I like it better when they suck," Jane mused. "You get a better shot of their dicks, although I do like watching their facial expressions when they poke each other." Jim Horn was on his knees, fellating Tom, who had warmed up for the act by wiggling his hips and thrusting his moneymaker for the camera to savor. Tom might have been twelve inches, a foot-long, as the ladies were want to say, and it stuck straight out, parallel to the ground, with a couple of small bends along the way. "Jesus, you could hang your clothes on it," observed Jane. "Now that's a trophy cock."
Arlene stopped playing with herself. "I knew you'd like it. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to focus," and her hand resumed its exercise. "He's a good cocksucker," she observed. "That ain't acting. He's definitely gay. What a pity."