Melanie and Team Vasquez

Note: This story is Part 1 of the series Melanie and Team Vasquez

~~~~~~

The whole thing began during an after-hours stop at our regular hangout, where we often had a few beers together when our shift ended.

Robbie, Jack, Lester, Floyd and I were Team Vasquez, named for our leader, Robbie Vasquez. We assembled transmissions at the largest factory in town. Our tight bonds as a work team helped us win production bonuses every year.

Jack was sort of assistant leader; Lester and Floyd were regular guys, good to have on your side. They were all hunky men, in shape, squared away. I was always happy to be with them and proud to be part of Team V.

That night, as we sat in a booth entertaining ourselves, Robbie posed a brain teaser.

"Melanie, I'll bet you can't answer this: What city hosted the first US presidential inauguration?"

"What's the bet?" I asked.

"Well, if you know the right answer, the four of us will cut your grass and wash your car."

"Oh, I know the answer. But if not? What happens then?"

"If your answer is wrong," Robbie said, "on Friday you'll put in two hours as hostess of our poker night."

"Deal." We fist bumped in front of everybody. I was already picturing my clean car.

"So your answer is?" Robbie demanded.

"Trick question. Washington DC wasn't built yet, so it must have been in Philadelphia." I was totally convinced I was right.

Robbie delivered the devastating news.

"Right track, wrong answer. Sorry, Mel, it was in New York City."

"What the fuck? That can't be right," I pleaded.

But Jack and Lester were already holding up their phones with proof that I had it wrong.

"Shit!" was all I could say, embarrassed by my overconfidence.

I asked, "Robbie, you said 'two hours as hostess' but what are you expecting?"

"We'd be happy if you dressed kinda sexy and buzzed around our game, making sure everyone's having a good time. Like the cocktail waitresses in Vegas. It's easy, just the four of us."

"For two hours?" I clarified.

He smiled, "You could stay longer if you want."

I rolled my eyes, but agreed. "Okay, sounds harmless. I'll be there."

"Don't forget to dress slutty," Floyd joined in, replacing 'sexy' with 'slutty.' Nods and murmurs confirmed they all had the same image in mind.

I wasn't worried. I knew I could trust them.

"This might be fun," I thought.

~~~~~~

As I got dressed on Friday evening, my mind was occupied with how slutty was slutty enough. The guys had been kidding me at work all week, since the bet, eagerly anticipating my debut as their slutty hostess. It was definitely a sex charged environment, but I accepted it as all in fun.

The men were obsessed with sex, nothing new in that.

The guys suspected I had a hot body although my shapeless manufacturing workwear wasn't revealing. They were right. At age thirty, I was five feet, nine inches tall, proudly weighing only one hundred thirty pounds. I was all-natural on top, measuring 33D. The rest of me was well proportioned, kept that way by jogging and exercise.

My straight dark brown hair fell to my waist in back when I let it down.

I was generally fearless and knew how to be flirty-sexy. Still, the Friday night challenge had me a little concerned. What could I do to get through two hours in a house with four men, dressed like the slut they wanted?

I decided to play along with their fantasies, to be eye candy for the guys. I started with my hair, creating an artfully disheveled updo with sexy loose wisps at the sides. My clothes were inspired by imagining a beach bar hooker, starting with low-rise denim short-shorts that showed total leg and the lower curves of my perky ass while barely keeping my little red thong out of sight.

The t-back thong itself was made of strings plus a patch that minimally covered my landing strip.

The shorts ended well below my navel, leaving a wide swath bare at my midriff. The sleeveless, scoop neck, cropped tank top exposed my thong-matching red mini-bra whenever I moved.

I thought that combo would provide plenty of peek-a-boo provocation without actually showing anything too scandalous.

I added a pair of black leather hooker boots to complete the ensemble. I checked the mirror; it rated me 'Epic Hot!' from all angles.

The night was cool and raining, normal for November in our area. I wrapped myself in an insulating lined trench coat and drove over to the guys' house, right on time to arrive at eight.

~~~~~~

But it didn't happen that way.

I only had a few blocks to go when my car broke down. The engine quit and smoke started coming out from under the hood. With shaking hands, I managed to get to the curb, turn off the key, and put on the flashers.

I got out and attempted to open the hood, but the rain sizzled on hot metal, too hot to handle. I was getting soaked; my updo was a disaster.

I called Robbie.

After making sure I wasn't injured, he asked a few questions, including my exact location.

"Stay on the phone. We'll keep an open line while we drive over to get you."

He summoned the others, "Mount up, boys. Damsel in distress."

I could almost hear the cavalry charge bugle call playing in the background.

In minutes, all four men arrived, in Robbie's lifted, black F-250 followed by Floyd's tricked-out jeep. Jack was on the phone with me the whole time.

After a quick look, Lester diagnosed a split radiator hose.

"We'll tow you over to the house, get you off the street until tomorrow."

Tragedy turned to party, just like that.

~~~~~~

An hour later, poker had everyone occupied in the game room, a pure form of man cave. One wall was dominated by a flat screen showing a basketball highlight video. An oversized L-shaped leather couch took up two more walls while all the center space was used for the poker table and chairs. Sports memorabilia hung on the walls along with hot chick posters.

The room's gas-log fireplace with fake bearskin rug added a very cozy feel, especially when the weather outside was hostile, like that night.

My first move was to sit by the fire to brush out my wet hair and calm down. Men whistled when I "accidentally" exposed my bra by reaching up to brush and fluff. The little tank top was very good at not covering.

Once the game got going, I circled the card table, touching the shoulders of each of the four seated men as I passed by. They glanced at me frequently, checking out my minimal shorts and top, my long legs and boots.

I was in a fine mood, having a good time, and feeling very warm toward my rescuers. Fulfilling the bet was no longer my primary motivation.

"Who needs a refill?" I asked about their drinks. I kept busy awhile making sure everyone had a full glass or fresh bottle. I refilled the salty snacks and sweets.

"Now what?" I thought. The evening was much more exciting and fun than I had expected, but I didn't quite know what I should be doing.

Back at the table, I stood next to Floyd, my leg touching him and my hand on his neck. He was focused on his cards, but he took a moment to smile at me. Chips clinked as they were thrown in for more cards before the call.

Floyd won.

"Come to papa," he exclaimed, as he cheerfully raked in the pot.

I bent way over, knowing the view down my low cut top would be outrageous.

"Great play, Floyd. Congratulations," I said, kissing him on the cheek then hugging his head against my boobs. I don't know why I went in that direction; it was just a natural response to the situation.

Floyd was thrilled.

"You're good luck, Melanie. Feel good too," he mumbled into my cleavage.

When I released the hug, he smoothly cupped my boobs with both hands. I not only didn't resist the feel, I placed my hands over his, smiling, as he continued squeezing me. I was in the mood to play a little and having three other men watching was a major erotic turn-on.

Robbie was staring from across the table, mouth open, like he couldn't believe he'd just seen Floyd feel me up. Of course, he wanted more.

"Mel, I'd so love to see you topless," he said. "Go ahead and take it off."

The others joined him, asking me to strip.

"Could happen," I said slowly. "But, Robbie, why don't you show us yours first?"

Whoops and shouts, laughs taunting Robbie. "Drop trou, dude..."

To my surprise, he stood up and dropped his pants, then his boxers.

The guys started needling him, but got instantly quiet when I took off the tank top. Their eyes practically bulged out when I slowly, seductively removed my bra.

"Okay?" I asked Robbie. I had my arms extended to the sides, bra in one hand, top in the other, bare tits in the center.

He grinned and nodded, saying, "Mel, I can't believe you."

I tossed the clothes to a chair. "I can't believe any of this, but here we are."

I stood looking at Robbie while the other three silently stared at my tits.

To relieve the tension, I returned to working the table, half naked and seriously aroused.

"Need a fresh drink?" I asked Lester, bending over him so my tits were right near his face.

Nobody was interested in drinks, but as I went around the table each man fondled me and tweaked my nipples. I was tremendously hot, welcoming the sexual preliminaries.

"Mel, I can't take my eyes off you," Robbie said, reaching for me as I approached.

"You incredible hottie," Jack commented, watching Robbie caress and squeeze me.

"Your pale white skin and pink nip-" Floyd began, staring at my tits in Robbie's hands, unable to continue.

I knew they were hard wired that way; playing with my boobs was an intense pleasure for them that I was willing, even eager, to provide. I was more and more aroused by being the center of their staring and touching, arousal that made me wet and wanting more.

Jack practically had his tongue hanging out as he stared at my rack when I came to his seat.

"Mel, you've got it all, totally... I'd never get any work done at the plant if your, um..."

I completed his sentence, "Tits were in your face?"

Standing in front of him, I hung my head back, hands clasped behind me, with my breasts thrust forward.

"At the plant, you'd want to inspect my impellers, right?" I asked, with a husky voice.

"Oh shit, Mel. I'd be oogling you the whole time. My dick would be standing at attention," Jack said, his face showing a little sweat.

Floyd imagined, "We'd get nothing done. You'd have to fuck all the guys in Production Control to keep us from getting fired."

I started laughing at their reactions and fantasies, but I knew I was at a crossroads. If I wasn't ready to go deeper in a sexual direction, I'd better leave and go home immediately.

Too late, I realized. I was already massively turned on and very curious to find out what would happen. Besides, my car was temporarily dead.

I asked, lazily, in a sexy voice, "You really think I could derail the plant? Am I that hot?"

As I spoke, I leaned over with my hands on my legs above the knees. I gave my melons a good shake.

The startled guys let out whoops and shouts, the poker game totally abandoned as they catcalled and applauded me.

"Yeah, you are that hot," Robbie said. "I'm ready to pop. Just take it all off for us, okay?"

I thought a moment. "You guys take off everything. Then you can strip me of the little I have left."

I reached behind me and cupped my ass cheeks, prancing once around, jugs bouncing, so everyone got the picture. Cheers and shouts declared my T&A best in show.

"Come on, the party's just starting," I said.

They took everything off and stood proudly, nothing hidden. Four erections pointed at me.

I asked for help with my tight boots. A wave of electricity flowed over my body as I sat and watched two nude men with fat dicks taking my boots off while they looked at my tits and up my legs.

Feet bare, I stood up and kicked my boots away. Robbie and Jack came over, close to me.

Jack opened the front of the shorts and slipped them down my legs, exposing my red thong and buttocks.

"Jeez, Mel..." he said, sounding overcome. He gave my ass a squeeze.

We giggled and laughed like teens, playing this little game that nonetheless was highly erotic. With almost nothing on and expectations growing, it was all up to me.

I took off the thong and tossed it to Robbie. He sniffed it and passed it to Lester. The thong made the rounds, sniffed by all.

"Like my scent?" I risked asking, receiving a big cheer in return.

Totally nude, I put my arms in the air and twirled, swirling my hair, bouncing my tits, showing everyone all sides of me. I touched my toes, putting my ass and pussy totally on view. I was boiling hot, my juices running down my legs, but committed to going wherever we were going.

"Robbie, take a chair for a lap dance," I said, breaking the silence.

He looked shocked, but quickly complied. Lots of shocking things were happening.

Someone turned up the music and lowered the lights. They also put a porn video on their big screen while I focused on Robbie.

I strutted over to him, circled the chair with one hand on his shoulders. The few lap dances I'd seen provided a very sparse guide, but I went ahead.

Starting with my back to Robbie, I slowly straddled his legs, wiggled into his lap, and pressed my ass crack firmly against his cock. I swayed and shimmied, pushing back into his hard-on and down on his thigh, leaving wet tracks.

I bent far forward and leaned way back, swinging and undulating, wriggling tight in Robbie's lap the whole time. My boobs went crazy, moving in a way that put on their own show as I bent down and returned to upright, all a big hit with my noisy audience.

I threw my head back and moaned with pleasure, expressing the deep emotions being released. As I ground into him, my arms in the air, Robbie kneaded my boobs and pinched my nipples. I thrashed his face with my swinging hair.

Even though it was an unfamiliar situation, my own reaction was entirely excitement, arousal, and a desire to do more.

Jack, Floyd, and Lester gathered close to Robbie and me, clapping in time to the music. I never knew I was an exhibitionist until I felt the almost unbearable arousal provoked by the three horny men watching me.

I got up and turned around, facing Robbie. I slid down tight against his dick with my legs wide open, rubbing myself into him. His prick was seeking entry to my wet twat, but I used one hand to position his shaft so it was caressing my protruding clit, greatly enhancing the effect on me.

I panted, my heavy breathing synced with each thrust of my hips.

We locked eyes, my arms around his neck, both smiling and very happy to be together.

I amped up the tempo of my thrusts including the rubbing on Robbie's cock. I wet a finger in my pussy and pressed my full body against him, inserting the finger in his mouth. Then I kissed him with full tongue, grinding against him the whole time.

The other three guys stood around us, staring wide-eyed, stroking themselves.

"Awesome, Mel. Where'd you learn to lap dance?" Jack wanted to know.

"I'm not telling," I replied, with a dismissive laugh.

I shook my pelvis to pleasure his dick with my pussy lips and engorged clit.

"What are you feeling, Robbie?" I whispered.

He didn't answer, just turned his head from side to side.

"Are you going to come?"

"I...I'm not sure," he said, grunting, gasping.

I glanced at the porn video, thinking, "The guys must like this one. I can use that."

I purred, "See the girl on the screen? I want what she's getting."

I surprised myself. Where had my inhibitions gone?

He looked toward the screen image where multiple guys were coming in a woman's mouth. Right away, Robbie climaxed on me, a big burst of cum that spurted on my pubic landing strip and above. With a satisfied smile, I kept moving until he was semi-limp, then made hand circles on my tummy to spread his cum.

I kissed him while laughing, another emotional release that signaled a transition in the party. It had morphed into group sex. I was responsible for three more guys, men I had totally teased with my dance.

Still sitting on Robbie's lap, I asked the others, "See anything you like?"

"Yeah, you," Lester said, drawing laughter and crude comments from the other two, but no other answer.

"Lester, let's fuck on the couch," I proposed.

As I said it, the sentence seemed impossibly whorish, not me. But I had already rationalized what I was going to do. I was a consenting adult and could fuck whoever I wanted, one at a time or all together.

Walking to the couch naked, I continued rubbing the cum into my belly, feeling intense pleasure from the act. I decided it no longer mattered who saw what. There was nothing to hide, only a chance to have a really good time. My mind was scrambled by desire, arousal, but that's what I wanted to do.

In that mood, I licked cum off my hands and fingers.

I lay down on the couch and welcomed Lester to be next with me. Robbie sat nearby, holding his wet, limp dick, but intently interested in what was happening. The other two were hovering, clearly excited as they waited to get their turn.

Lester seemed very nervous, maybe because of the others watching. But I pulled him down on top of me and used one hand to guide his dick into my pouting, sopping pussy. We started to fuck with a smooth rhythm.

I humped under him, matching his strokes. I moaned softly as my heat expanded in its natural, unstoppable way. I reached around to slap his butt, crying, "Come on Lester, do me. Fuck me, Lester."

He laughed weakly and increased the pace. Our audience was clapping in time and cheering our strokes.

"Oh, that's better. Now faster, harder." I spoke breathlessly, excitement continuing to grow. I felt my tits sliding around from our movements. It was all one thing, every part working together, faster, faster.

I could tell from his breathing and focus that I was getting to him. The video gave me another idea.

"Do you want to share me with one of the others? Or all at once? Do you have a secret fantasy?"

"Is there anything you won't do?" he asked me, puffing hard, sounding alarmed.

"Oooo, what do you have in mind? I'll do it for you," I assured him, my voice husky and panting.

He couldn't say it.

I asked, "Do you want to force me? Maybe something I don't want?"

No answer.

"Would you like to tie me up?" I was boiling over hot, fucking him with abandon.

"Or gag me?" I could hardly say it, so exciting. We were flailing the couch.

"Whip me?"

With a groan he arched his body toward me, pushing deep inside so his cum surged into my deepest spaces. Still humping, I pounded on his back, slapped his ass again, "Good one, so great, oh thank you!"

He kept going briefly, then squeezed one of my tits and left me lying there.

Jack was next in line.

"Do you need a break?" he asked.

"Do you mind sloppy seconds?" I replied, mischievously, still out of breath from Lester.

Jack grinned.

"What I really, really need is your cock," I said, opening my legs. We both laughed as he mounted me. I was so wet with my own juices and Lester's cum, I heard him squish into me.

An energetic man, Jack pounded my pussy, with my legs on his shoulders. But I saw Floyd standing, still waiting. He was stroking his dick lightly, looking bored.

I called to him, "Bring that big boy here."

He came over, looking very unsure.

I reached a hand to Floyd's cock, pulled him close, and started a hand job.

"Floyd, do I have to draw you a map?"

I was on my back, my head hanging over the edge of the couch. I expected him to fuck my mouth upside down, but he just dipped there briefly to get wet, then started to jerk himself next to my face.

Jack was looking down my body, observing his dick going in and out of me, ignoring what I was doing with Floyd. It was actually a pretty intense scene, with Jack drilling my pussy while I had my tongue out for Floyd.