Fluffer's Reward

CarolAnn was in the women's restroom in the basement bar of the VFW hall, looking in the mirror above the sink, trying to decide what the cops and their friends beyond the door saw in her.

She lifted her chin higher to dispel the shadow from the bad lighting. She lifted her tits higher, too. Already going a little pear-shaped at just 36B. She shook her tight bob of brown hair. She looked down past her little bulge of belly toward the pussy and legs she had spent approximately three hours shaving the night before. She looked back into her cow-brown eyes. Her stomach was doing flip-flops.

Eighteen hundred dollars earlier today, already cash-apped to her bank account, and another fifteen hundred in her purse on the floor. Three thousand, three hundred dollars. She had never made so much money in a day. She had probably never made five hundred dollars in a day.

"If all the doors are locked, how are we going to get out if we need to?" she said.

DeeDee, already naked from the waist down, was unhooking her bra and looking back at CarolAnn, perplexed.

"It's a bar, honey," she said. "Not a dungeon. You just unlock the door." She peeled off her bra. Her newly refurbished tits leaped out and, improbably, up even higher and fuller, defying gravity and other laws of physics. "You watch too much true crime drama on Netflix."

"Well," CarolAnn replied primly, "they are TRUE crimes."

DeeDee was squirting lotion from a bottle onto her hands. She started massaging the lotion up, around and under her perfect boobs. CarolAnn, of course, was mesmerized. She wobbled a bit on her heels, the only clothing she was wearing. After that morning's bukkake shoot, the girls had stopped at Nordstom Rack and purchased matching shoes in a ridiculous shade of cherry red, with three inch spike heels. Seventy percent off.

"You ready to put on a show?" DeeDee said.

CarolAnn lifted her eyes off DeeDee's tits. "I don't know how this is gonna go," she admitted.

"It's gonna go fine." DeeDee grinned wickedly and tweaked both of her perky nipples. "These guys are good guys. Every couple of months, they like to have some fun."

"And we're the fun," CarolAnn said.

DeeDee was squirting more lotion into her hand. "That's how the world works, sweetie," she said. "Welcome aboard."

Three thousand, three hundred dollars. CarolAnn was two months behind on her electric bill and ten days late on her Chase Bank Visa card payment.

"C'mere, you beautiful three-hole bitch," DeeDee said.

CarolAnn grinned weakly and approached DeeDee.

"We're a package deal," DeeDee said. She reached out and began to massage her lotioned hands on CarolAnn's tits. Around, over, and under. CarolAnn could have melted into the floor. "Those guys' tongues are gonna be on the floor; their cocks are gonna be lifting the tables." She looked closely into CarolAnn's eyes. "Who's in charge?"

"They are," CarolAnn said.

DeeDee laughed out loud. "WE are," she said. "How did you ever get to be thirty-one years old without learning to lead guys around by their big, stupid, cum-dribbling cocks?"

DeeDee hefted CarolAnn's boobs, gave her a sweet smooch on each nipple, then let them drop. "C'mon, you bend-over cock-sucking whore," she said. "Let's get to work."

CarolAnn followed DeeDee out the ladies' room door.

* * *

DeeDee immediately went out to the table area beyond the bar and started talking to some of the guys. She either knew some of them already or had a real gift for gab. CarolAnn hung close to the bar by the bathrooms and obsessed over her own nakedness. The bar was along the left wall of the room and there was a circular stage with seating in the middle of the room. The tables for the guys were along the right side of the room. There were TVs on the walls showing sports events, but no one was watching them.

A young girl with purple and green hair and the requisite tattoos walked down the length of the bar. She was, CarolAnn saw ruefully, not naked. She was wearing booty shorts and a tank top. "Hey," the girl said, "you want something?"

CarolAnn smiled politely. "Oh no," she said, "I'm good."

"Cool." The girl started pulling glasses out of the bar sink, rinsing them, and placing them on a mat on the bar top.

CarolAnn watched her do this for a minute or two, and then asked, "You do this a lot?"

"This? The guys have their thing, every couple months or so. I don't always pull this gig. It pays, though."

"Oh. I'm CarolAnn." The air conditioning out on the floor was making her nipples stand out.

The barmaid placed the last of the glasses on the mat, then reached down, set a shot glass on the bar, and looked behind her at the ranks of bottles. She plucked up a bottle of tequila and deftly poured a shot. She replaced the bottle, raised the glass to her lips, drained it, rinsed it, and set it back where it had come from. "Sarah," she said.

"Do they usually..." CarolAnn stopped, unsure of what she even wanted to say. "Who are the girls, usually?" she finally settled for.

"Strippers, usually," Sarah said. "They had two girls for tonight, but it didn't work out. One's in county."

"Oh," CarolAnn said. "County?"

"Jail. County jail. The other girl flaked out."

"Oh, wow." CarolAnn's heart was leaping in her chest. "I mean, we're not," she pointed weakly at DeeDee, who was now sitting in the lap of a big pot-bellied cop at one of the tables, "we're not strippers."

"No kidding. I guess the guys," Sarah looked out at the tables and then regarded CarolAnn, her gaze frankly appraising, "are looking for a girl next door type tonight." She reached beneath the bar and produced a small paper pad and a pencil. "Go take some orders. These guys are thirsty."

* * *

CarolAnn approached the nearest table, her little order pad and pencil in hand. She could feel her boobs, all 36B of them, swaying a bit side to side. Her nakedness felt like a glowing neon bulb in the bar light.

"New talent!" one guy shouted out.

Right away, CarolAnn could sense one huge difference between this gig and her job earlier that afternoon, fluffing anonymous guys at the bukkake shoot. Her technical assistant gig. These guys were all dressed and she was completely naked. How did strippers do it, she wondered.

"Hi! What can I get you guys?" CarolAnn said, her voice wavering just a little.

"How about a peek at your pretty ass?" someone said.

CarolAnn looked up from her pad and had a funny idea. She pretended to write this request on her pad and then said, "I'll see if we have it in stock."

The cops chuckled their approval and CarolAnn was pleased with herself. None of the cops were in uniform, obviously, but they all wore cop-adjacent clothing -- PBA logo T-shirts and caps with their department or precinct locations on them. They all had cop haircuts, high and tight.

DeeDee appeared at CarolAnn's side and hugged her tight. Four naked boobs in a row. "You be nice to CarolAnn here. She's my best friend in the world."

CarolAnn blushed and one cop, a younger guy with nice blue eyes and a mustache, said, "Oh, we're gonna be especially nice to CarolAnn." More laughter, and then an older guy ordered three pitchers of beer. CarolAnn toddled back to the bar on her heels, while the guys wolf-whistled at her ass.

While Sarah filled the pitchers, DeeDee joined CarolAnn at the bar. She had her own little pad with orders written on it. She tore off a page and slid it across the bar.

"Once the guys are set up with drinks," DeeDee said, "we'll do a little turn, up on the stage."

CarolAnn hadn't been up on a stage since her college graduation. She looked nervously at the long oval runway, ringed with a cheap strand of LED lights, and dominated by two gold, floor-to-ceiling poles.

"What are we gonna do?" she said. "We're already naked. I don't even know how to... strip dance." Whatever that entailed. Not for the first time, she thought that this whole thing could be a terrible mistake.

"Me either," DeeDee said. "We'll figure it out."

CarolAnn looked doubtfully at DeeDee. Sarah slid a tray with three pitchers and five glasses on it toward her. CarolAnn hefted up her tray and carried it over to the table of cops. She set out the five glasses and, in her nervousness, immediately over-poured the first glass so the beer foamed up all over the table.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "I'm really... I'm not really good at this." She looked around helplessly for napkins.

"Don't worry, honey," the older guy who had ordered the pitchers said. "You have other talents."

CarolAnn laughed politely and gave her modest tits a little shake. "Thank you."

One table over, DeeDee was placing her tray down. She set out three glasses and began to deftly pour out the beers without a drop spilled. CarolAnn watched how she tipped the glass and did so herself with her next one. It seemed to work better.

"Why, thank you!" DeeDee said. A guy with a cop mustache and a shirt that seemed two sizes too small to hide his well-developed chest and biceps was holding out a twenty dollar bill. DeeDee swooped in and snatched up the bill with her admirable 38D's. She gave the cop's hand a gentle squeeze with her cleavage and backed away.

"Oh no!" she said. Her twenty was fluttering to the ground.

The guy in the chair nearest to it reached down to grab it, but DeeDee said, "No, no, I'll get it."

CarolAnn watched as DeeDee got down on her hands and knees and crawled under the table until only her calves and heels showed from under it. "I know it's under here somewhere," she called out.

"Feel around!" one of the guys offered as they all laughed.

"It's so dark under here! I think... wait, what's this?"

One of the guys ducked his head and pulled his cap low on his face. The rest roared in approval.

"It's so big! I better take a closer look!"

CarolAnn picked up a fourth glass and began to fill it. One of the guys held out a twenty and CarolAnn, after a moment's hesitation, leaned forward and presented her boobs. The guy placed the bill between them and CarolAnn squeezed her tits together around the cash and the guy's hand.

"I can't see a thing!" DeeDee called out. "CarolAnn! I need another pair of eyes down here!"

The guys at both tables raised a cheer. Oh boy. CarolAnn placed the twenty on her serving tray. She couldn't just walk away and leave DeeDee here alone. She went to the other table and carefully lowered herself to the floor, which she saw now, wasn't entirely too clean. She peeked under the table and then crawled underneath.

DeeDee, unsurprisingly, was face first into the crotch of some cop with his pants around his ankles. The cop had his legs spread wide and DeeDee was enthusiastically face-fucking herself with his dick. When she felt CarolAnn's presence beside her, she released the guy's dick and let it dangle next to her face. It was generous in length if not in girth, with an exaggerated curve to one side. A long string of saliva and precum dangled from its head to DeeDee's lips.

DeeDee pointed to CarolAnn's right. Another cop had his pants down to his shins. Had they been sitting here like this all along? CarolAnn looked at this cock, short and squat and hanging at half-mast. She reached out and grabbed it, felt it stir in her grasp. She moved closer and realized another key difference between this event and the day's earlier bukkake shoot.

The guys at the shoot had been meticulously clean with their privates. Cock, balls, ass. It had been stipulated in the agreement they'd signed. This guy, emphatically, was not. A distinct whiff of uncleanness came from this guy. Sweaty, musky rankness. Didn't these guys shower?

DeeDee went back to sloppily fellating her guy. She wasn't doing any teasing, because no one could see her anyway. She was all business this time around.

CarolAnn pulled on her guy's cock once, twice, three times. It was very thick, but probably less than five inches long. She was wary about putting her mouth on it. It smelled to high heaven. How could you walk around with something so filthy in your pants? The guy widened his stance in his chair, clearly enjoying himself.

And then a miracle happened. After no more than thirty seconds of pulling on this guy's dick, spurt after spurt after spurt of thick baby batter started to pour from it. CarolAnn's eyes went round and wide as she pulled at this guy's spasming cock. She looked at DeeDee and put her other hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. DeeDee probably would have laughed too if her mouth weren't crammed full of cock.

CarolAnn milked her guy until a sizable pool of sloppy man glop collected on the floor in front of her. This guy must have been saving himself up for this night for a week. All for thirty seconds of joy. Guys were weird. CarolAnn released the guy's cock. Then she waved a tiny wave at DeeDee and crawled backwards out from underneath the table.

"Well," she said, flustered, standing again before the guys' table and wiping her cum-sloppy hand on her right tit, "we made quick work of that."

DeeDee snorted a delighted chortle from underneath the table that sounded like it came from around her guy's cock.

CarolAnn picked up her tray with the twenty on it and went off to her left to a new table of cops to take orders. Then she went back to the bar. Her order was bottles of beer this time, which Sarah set on her tray along with some glasses. CarolAnn waited until DeeDee finished her blowjob and joined her at the bar.

"You said no shenanigans," CarolAnn said vehemently.

DeeDee placed a meek hand above her bountiful chest. "Me? I never said no shenanigans. I said no whoring."

"What's the difference!"

"Shenanigans are fun. Whoring is... I don't know, in the eye of the beholder, I guess." DeeDee lifted some bills off her tray. A fifty and a twenty which she tossed behind the bar, and another fifty which she held out to CarolAnn. "Unless you don't want it."

CarolAnn looked at the fifty. Of course she wanted it. She took it from DeeDee's hand.

"You have some cum on your forehead," she said.

DeeDee sighed and pulled a napkin from the dispenser beside her elbow. She dabbed at her forehead. "Did I get it?"

CarolAnn took the napkin and wiped just below DeeDee's hairline. She threw the napkin onto the bar and picked up her tray of bottles. "Back at it," she said.

"Wait, wait, wait," DeeDee said. "What's this?" DeeDee imitated the way CarolAnn was carrying the tray, as if she were carrying a bushel of apples. "Haven't you ever worked tables before?"

Well, no, CarolAnn thought defiantly. She had worked in a natural foods and vitamin shoppe when she was in college. And then, for a while, at a pet supply store while she tried to turn her accounting degree into some kind of banking job.

"Here," DeeDee said, "watch." DeeDee took the tray from her, set her hand in the middle of the bottom of the tray, and lifted it deftly over her head so she was balancing it on one hand. "See?"

"Oh," CarolAnn said.

DeeDee set the tray back on the bar. "Do," she said.

CarolAnn slid the tray toward herself. She lifted it off the bar and set one hand beneath it, at approximately the center. The bottles tinkled together ominously.

"Find the center of gravity," DeeDee said, "and lift."

CarolAnn squeezed her eyes shut, pivoted underneath the tray, and lifted. When she opened her eyes, she was standing like the Statue of Liberty, the tray held aloft. She gasped out loud in amazement.

DeeDee laughed pleasantly. "You're a natural," she said.

CarolAnn blushed happily. She could feel the perfect center of the tray above her. The bottles weren't even tinkling anymore. "Why do waitresses carry trays like this?" she said.

"Probably because it makes their tits stand out more."

This was true; CarolAnn could feel herself holding her tits out and up. She looked at DeeDee. "What if I drop it?" she said.

DeeDee shrugged. "It'll be funny."

CarolAnn found herself, once again, wondering how she had gotten by in life without DeeDee explaining things to her. She felt fortified by DeeDee's trust in her as she headed off to the table of four guys beneath a colossal and ridiculous mounted moose head.

"Hi, guys." she said. "I'm CarolAnn." These guys didn't seem quite so cheerful as those at her first table.

"Where you been, tits?" said a guy with a shaved head, a piercing stare, and -- unusual among these guys -- a tattoo on the inside of his forearm. It was some indecipherable symbol. "We're thirsty here."

"Sorry," CarolAnn said. She pivoted again and somehow managed to swing and place the tray on the table without mishap. Another miracle. "I was... my friend was showing me something."

"How to provide proper service, I hope."

Another guy, a blonde surfer type, albeit with short hair, said "Hey Bobby, be nice, we're having fun here."

CarolAnn was diligently filling their glasses.

"True," Bobby said. "Let's have some fun." He produced a fifty like a magic trick, slowly slid it across the table, and let it flutter to the floor.

Welp, here we go, CarolAnn thought. She looked over her shoulder toward the bar, but DeeDee was nowhere to be found. Back on that bar was the first fifty she had accepted. Here was another. Okay.

"Whoops," CarolAnn said, with false cheer. "Let me get that."

Again, she was down on the floor, hands and knees, her nakedness feeling practically incandescent. But alone this time. Buck up, buttercup, she thought.

"See anything under there?" a voice said. It seemed like a third guy, she wasn't sure who.

"It's pretty dark," she said. It wasn't dark at all; she felt extremely vulnerable, her naked ass in the air, her head under the table. Bobby to her right had his pants down to just below his knees. Another guy, not the surfer-type guy, had his pants zipper open, a short few inches of cock standing straight upward through the opening. Did these guys take boner pills too, like the bukkake shoot guys?

"Oh, wait," she called out, "I think I've got it!"

She had sucked enough cocks today, she could suck one more. She crawled closer to Bobby's dick, which was now hanging half-hard in her face. It was thick and veiny, it's inverted bell-like head dangling and twitching. She licked the underside of the head and then engulfed it in her mouth, her tongue sliding along the bottom to the base. She raised one hand and caressed his hairy balls. At least Bobby was fairly clean, she thought. He had seemed like the kind of guy who would attend to hygiene.

Above her, the guys were talking. Cop talk, she supposed, unintelligible to her, pouring the beers she hadn't gotten to. She made of her mouth a perfect O, slipping it back and forth along Bobby's lengthening shaft. She remembered DeeDee blowing her guy, no fancy teasing or pleasing. Just be the hole. Be the hole.

Glup, glup, glup. In a way, this was easier. Not having to be vigilant, lest the guy cum in her mouth. Cumming in her mouth was the whole point here. A perfect O, fucking her face with this mean guy's cock. She pushed her own head all the way down so his cock bulged into the very back of her mouth, into her throat, and she made a point of gagging and coughing loud enough to be heard.

Then back to sucking. Like a cock-sucking machine. She thought briefly about reaching past Bobby's balls and touching his asshole, but decided against it. He didn't seem like the open-minded type. Just be the hole. Be the hole.

Bobby spread his legs a little and slid forward in his chair. His cock throbbed in her mouth and grew a few centimeters longer, a little girthier and wider. He was getting ready, she knew. How easy guys were, she thought. So much simpler than girls. So much simpler than DeeDee. Thinking of DeeDee, she willed herself to be sloppier, sluttier, a hole for cock. Make him cum. Face fuck him until he blows his load.