Public Group Sex in the Alley

I walk into the local college bar downtown at about 9:30 at night. Dressed for "maximum sexy", I'm in a black pleated miniskirt with little red skulls on it, and an almost see-through, white tank top with a plunging neckline, showing off my large firm tits. Anyone looking closely will swear they can see the dark circles of my nipples showing through. They're probably right, and there's zero doubt they can see the outline of the ring running through each one. I've got my platinum blonde hair pulled back in a slick little ponytail, no bra, no panties, and a pair of black, chunky, patent leather, almost-stripper heels with a pair of cherries embroidered into each one.

Dressed for sex, I'm on a Mission. A Mission is one of the little, and sometimes not so little "dares" my Baby gives me. Some of them we do together, and some I have to do on my own. They might be as simple as flashing a trucker on the interstate, or as complicated as the one I'm on tonight, and there's always a reward commensurate with the level of the Mission.

There's not much of a crowd yet, just a group of a few years younger than me boisterous frat boys at the corner of the bar, drinking beers and shots and talking about the football game, who's doing who, who WANTS to do who, and who just did whose mom! It's typical 20-something male testosterone and bonding. There are 5 or 6 guys in the group and one girl. She looks to be the same age as the guys and she's very cute, but she doesn't seem to be attached to any one of them. She moves around the group and through them, laughing, drinking beer for beer with her "buds", and punching as many arms as anyone else. Apparently she's a gal pal, a little sister type of girl that just likes hanging out. Good, I think, she won't get jealous if she sees me separating one of her boys from the herd. The Mission is important. I want that reward!

I sit at my usual spot at the other end of the bar closest to the door and in front of the tabletop video game machine. The games are a fun distraction, and the cool air that blows in every time someone opens the door keeps my nipples hard. Bait... In fact, I can already see the frat boys taking interest. They're elbowing each other, nodding in my direction and suddenly much more interested in flexing their muscles and trying to catch my eye than they are in their beers or their juvenile jokes.

I completely ignore them and order a large Captain and Diet from "Pierced Penis" the bartender. At least that's what I've called him ever since he took me into the kitchen and the two of us played, "You Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine". He had pulled out his rather large, thick penis and shown me where the stainless steel ring ran through it. It was the first Prince Albert I'd ever seen. His cock had started to grow and harden as he'd held it in his hand and he offered to let me touch it.

My knees buckled just a little bit and my legs got a little "Jello-ey". The piercing was so unusual and the atmosphere was interesting to say the least, what with the chance of getting caught, or at least being watched. Just the way I like it. I was fascinated, and for a fraction of a second I even started to reach out for it, but for whatever reason, I'm still not sure why, I stopped him, and told him, "Not tonight, but I am DEFINITELY interested."

Instead, taking a small step back, I lifted up the denim skirt I had been wearing that night, the short inch or two necessary to show him my own tiny silver hoop with the silver ball that passes through the fleshy hood covering my clit. The little ball rests gently against the very tip of it and gives me a nice thrill any time I make certain movements.

Staring at the silver ring he had slowly closed the short distance between us, stopping only when getting any closer would have obscured his view. Still holding his now rigid erection in one hand, he had slowly reached out with the other until his index finger touched the ring at its juncture with my flesh. I inhaled sharply, feeling the dampness between my pussy lips becoming a full-on wetness. He didn't ask permission, but I didn't tell him no. Both of us just stared mesmerized as his finger gently massaged the ring in small continuous circles, pushing it back against my sensitive button. Meanwhile his other hand slowly stroked up and back the length of his turgid cock in perfect rhythm to his finger on my clit.

Gazing at the bell-shaped head of his hard-on and watching his hand stroke in time to his finger on my pussy, I stared intently as a large drop of pre-cum pooled at the tip and dribbled down his piercing. Finally it had broken free and fell toward the floor. Catching on the engorged, wet lips of my pussy, it hung there for a second then fell the rest of the way to the kitchen linoleum. Just then I had realized that the tip of his huge hard prick was less than an inch from splitting my hungry cunt lips and driving inside me. Again, for reasons I still don't know, I pushed back lightly on both his shoulders and in my best school teacher voice, had told him, "Hey, mister, this is supposed to be show and tell. No touching!" I then gave a little laugh to make sure his feelings hadn't been hurt, straightened my skirt with a little wiggle, and walked back toward the bar, leaving him in the kitchen with his still hard dick in his hand and my musky scent on his fingers.

Oh, sorry, back to the present. I look again at "Pierced" behind the bar. He throws me a wink, and I wonder if I should just make it easy on myself, throw him a bone for his patience and for all the super strong, super cheap Captains he's given me, and just let HIM help me fulfill the Mission. But then, there's those cute young frat guys, and...

"You're running out of time."

"What?" I mumble, as I snap out of thought and back into the now. Looking for the source of the voice, from very close to my left ear I hear,

"Your game. You're running out of time."

At the same time, an arm comes around my shoulder and its hand hits the touch screen, highlighting the last two clues I had stopped looking for during my "Show and Tell" flashback.

"There. See? I saved your game."

Turning to my left I see a frat boy. Cute too, but not one from the little group at the corner of the bar. He must be alone. Perfect. He'll do.

Giving him my best flirty little smile, I reply, "My hero. What will I EVER do with the extra 50 cents?"

Not missing a beat he comes back with, "Hey, it's the thought that counts."

I laugh, trying to figure out how to get to the next step without going through all the motions. I ask him, "So what reward can I give you for 'saving' me?" It's a nice open ended question. Let's see where he goes with it.

His reply is quick and smooth. He'd obviously played this line before, "saving" a girl's game in order to get a chance to chat her up. "Let me buy you a drink. We can play some more Treasure Hunt and hang out."

I decide to call his bluff. I'm antsy to get this started, and now that I have a willing play mate, or I'm pretty sure I do, I'm starting to feel a little fluttery in the belly and a little wet somewhere further down. Nuzzling my nose up along his neck, I stop when I reach his ear, "I've got a better idea. How about you finish your beer and meet me out back in the alley, and I'll give you the best head you'll ever have in your life." Emphasizing my point, I run my hand discreetly up the inside of his thigh and rub his rapidly rising dick through the front of his khakis.

After taking a few seconds to stop choking on his beer, he stammers, "Are you serious!?"

Still surreptitiously massaging his crotch I whisper, "Mmm Hmm. There are just a few rules first. Rule #1- You can't tell ANYONE until after we're done. Then you can brag til your heart's content. Rule #2- It's a blow job only. I'm not going to let you fuck me so don't even try. It just annoys me and makes me want to stop. Rule #3- You have to take pictures of me doing it, using my cell phone. I'll even text you a few of the pictures. Don't worry, your face won't be in them. Only mine. I need them to make an ex jealous. Think you can handle that?" Rule #3 wasn't exactly the truth. I DO need the pictures to complete the mission, but they aren't for an ex, and they aren't to make anyone jealous.

The boy didn't take long to think before he responded. By this time his lower brain is about 90% in control. "I'm not sure I'm cool with some girl's ex-boyfriend having pictures of my junk..." but I cut him off before he has time to really think.

"First of all, like I said, your FACE won't be in the pictures, just your dick. It's not like you'll be walking down the street and someone's going to come after you yelling, 'Hey! I know that junk!', and second of all, who said it was a BOYfriend?"

He hesitates for a second, obviously caught up on my "ex" possibly being another girl and all that entails. At that point, I knew I had him.

"Ok" he says, "I'm in."

By then I've already finished the last of my Captain, leaving nothing but some ice and a layer of red lipstick at the top of my straw. Taking my hand off the bulge in his slacks, I pick up my keys and my cell phone, slide a few dollars toward "Pierced", thinking, "Another night 'Pierced', soon. And I'll know what it feels like to have that metal (And cock) sliding in and out of my mouth, and maybe some other places." and I head toward the door.

In the entryway, and out of sight, I push the heavy door open, feeling the comfortably cool breeze hit my face and blow up under the pleats of my skirt. The cooler air washes over my hoochie moo, making me realize just how hot she's already gotten. I am definitely looking forward to this.

I take that first step out the door and toward the alley, but on some unknown impulse I grab the door before it bangs closed and step back into the entryway unseen and just in time to hear this,

"Dude, I'm telling you, that hot blonde that just left is waiting for me in the alley and she's going to blow me, and I've never seen her before in my life!"

It was said loud enough that most of the frat boys at the bar corner would have heard him. And just as I was trying to decide what form of death is painful enough for him for having wasted my time, he comes bounding around the vestibule and runs right into me. At the same time the blood is fleeing his deflating erection, enough must have returned to his "big" head to let him realize he was overheard and has fucked up his sure thing, big time.

"I. Uhhh... They..." he stutters, still not sure he can't save himself.

I push the door back open, holding it for him and say, "Rule #1- Keep your mouth shut!"

He walks through the door and starts down the sidewalk like a pouty kid who's told he can't have a puppy. The door closes and I take 30 seconds to get it back together, almost laughing at the silliness. I head into the bar thinking, "Ok, Plan B. But do I even HAVE a plan B?"

Back inside, the cute girl with the frat boys has assumed my seat in front of the video game so I move a few spots to her left to an empty stool near the corner. More than a few sets of eyes are curious about my quick return. Most likely the ones who heard what was supposed to go down in the alley, or at least WHO was supposed to go down in the alley. And just as "Pierced" arrives unasked, with a big Captain, one of the frat boys returns from the jukebox and takes the stool next to me. Seeming a little surprised to see me, he chuckles and says, "You're back quick."

Thinking fast I reply, "I know! Who WAS that guy?"

"Dunno. I saw him sitting next to you and it looked like he was making his move. Then the second you left he started saying how you were waiting in the alley to give him a BJ. Man, if a girl shuts you down that doesn't mean you should make shit up about her. My name's Conner. You?"

For the first time I take a real look at the guy. He's tall, probably 6ft, maybe 200lbs, BIG arms, probably hiding an 8 pack worth of abs under his shirt. He's dressed in the mandatory uniform of the current college student. Long khaki shorts, high top Chucks, a striped polo shirt straining at the cuffs to hold in his biceps, bright green eyes, all topped by a faded and worn Penn State hat doing its best to hide a mop of curly, dirty blonde, SoCal surfer hair.

Thinking to myself, "Is this Plan B?" I finally answer his question, "Me? I'm Kat. By the way, he wasn't lying."

"Nice to meet you, Kat. Wait, what!? Who wasn't lying?"

"That boy. He wasn't lying. I did tell him I'd meet him in the alley and give him the best head ever. But he broke Rule #1."

Conner immediately asked, "What's Rule #1?"

Giving him a look over the top of my glasses I ask, "Why? You interested in taking his place? Rule #1 is don't tell anyone until after. I mean I don't mind people watching. In fact I usually kinda LIKE it as long as they're quiet and don't try to join in uninvited. So, if I offered, would you want to take his place?"

Conner thinks for just a second, obviously intrigued, then says, "Depends. If there's a Rule #1, there must be more. What are they?"

Smart boy, I think to myself. So I take a minute to explain the no sex rule and the need for pictures, watching closely for Conner's reaction. As soon as I finish he says, "Count me in! The idea of the pictures sounds sinister." Then he chuckles, "And you'll even let me have some of them?"

"Sure why not," I say, feeling the flutters return. "How long before you can leave?"

Picking up his phone from the bar, he says, "Finish your drink, let me finish this beer and reply to this text and we can leave in 5 minutes."

I watch as he takes a huge swig of the near full mug swallowing nearly half its contents in one gulp. Then he turns to his phone and begins typing rapidly with both thumbs. Finally hitting send, he returns the phone to his pocket, and noticing that I've finished my drink he gulps the last of his and stands. Looking him right in the eye I ask, "Who did you tell?"

He looks confused and says, "What are you talking about?"

"In your text. Who did you tell?"

"No one."

"Let me see it then."

"No. Alright listen. I sent a text to that guy over there. The guy in the green Heineken hat. He's my roommate, Matt. We look out for each other. I told him to meet me in the alley in 10 minutes, but I told him not to tell ANYONE and I didn't tell him why. Here, see for yourself."

The message was exactly like Conner had said. No mention of me, or head. Hoping to save his chance, Conner continued, "You said you like being watched and I know Matt can keep quiet and won't touch uninvited. He can even be our lookout or take the pictures..."

The more Conner talks, the more I like his idea. The only thing I like more than giving head is being watched while giving head. And with Matt taking the pictures and keeping an eye out, the only thing Conner and I would have to worry about is me pleasing him, so I look at Conner and say, "Ok, let's go!"

Once again grabbing keys and cell phone, I head out the door, this time with Conner right behind me. I turn right at the corner of the building, and right again when I reach the back. Conner doesn't say a word, just follows along. The air is still cool and just a bit humid. It's dark and the only light is from a street lamp across the alley and down a ways. I grab Conner by the front of his polo and guide him up against the building. There's a car parked in the alley, and once I'm in position no one walking by will be able to see anything except the top part of Conner leaning against the building.

Perfect. I drop to my knees, conveniently finding a discarded piece of clothing to protect them from the asphalt. Handing my phone up to Conner, I unzip his shorts and begin fumbling through his baggy boxers, wondering how big he'll be, and what exactly my reward will be when this Mission is done.

The flutter is back in full force. So is the wetness. I find what I'm looking for and pull Conner's hardening cock out into the dim light. My fingers don't quite touch around its width, and I guess its length to be about 8 inches. I am very happy.

I slowly begin drawing my fist back and forth along the expanding length of flesh in my hand, and as I stick out my tongue, taking that first tentative taste, I'm almost blinded by a flash. The cell phone. Pictures. Good boy, Conner.

Returning to my "work", I engulf the head of his cock and its first few inches, tasting a hint of soap, along with the stronger essence of man, mixed with just a little sweat. Delicious. Conner lets out a grunt and a quiet groan of approval as I take more and more of his now fully hard dick into my mouth on each pass. My fist, still encircling his girth, moves in rhythm with my mouth and I think to myself that nothing could be more perfect. Unless of course my Baby were here with me in the alley instead of Conner. As I finish this thought, the light from the streetlamp gets dimmer and a shadow falls across us.

Without stopping or even missing a stroke, I look to my right and out of the corner of my eye I see sandals, blue cargo shorts, pink striped polo shirt, and green Heineken hat. Frat uniform. It's Conner's roommate Matt. Right on time, and quiet too. He doesn't say a word. Just stands there staring, hands in pockets and a big white toothed grin on his face. Matt is just a bit taller than Conner, but much more heavily built. Muscular. His jaw is square and covered with the stubble of about three days of not shaving. His hair is dark and cut short under his ball cap, and his eyes are almost gray. His arms and legs are a little hairy, just the way I like, and just enough to let everyone know he's a man.

Knowing I have an audience now, I start giving it my A Game. Pulling Conner's cock out of my mouth with a POP, I suck his balls while stroking his shaft up and down. Then I run my tongue around the tip and into the slit there, tasting the sweet sticky pre-cum beginning to ooze out. I look over at Matt slyly, giving him a wink, then back work. There are more flashes, this time coming from the right, letting me know that Matt is now the photographer. In fact, at that moment, Matt squats down next to me, the phone/camera only inches from my face, and with a grin he whispers, "Close up", takes 4 or 5 shots and then stands.

As he does, I see him adjust himself, the crotch of his shorts having become too tight due to the situation. The outline of Matt's erection is easily visible and the sight almost causes me to stop the piston-like motion of my mouth on Conner's cock. What I see, encased in blue cloth, is a rod maybe two inches longer than Conner's, but massive in girth, looking as though Matt is carrying a beer bottle in his boxers. The flutters in my belly instantly double.

Before I can decide what to do, if anything, Conner begins to stiffen, his breathing becoming intense. He begins to tremble just a little, the taste of his cum starting to become noticeable in my mouth. I know I have only about a minute to decide. Keep working Conner and it'll all be over. Mission accomplished. Or, listen to the flutters and take the mission to a whole new level.

Conner is on the edge, and Matt is right there with cellphone in hand, ready to capture the explosion. Decision made, I cease all contact with Conner's throbbing, saliva soaked cock, and looking up at him with a devious smile, I say, "Nope. Not yet."

Both men look down at me dumbfounded. Conner is looking anguished, Matt looking mildly amused. Neither one has any idea what my game is until I turn slightly on my makeshift kneepad and begin working on Matt's zipper. Once freed, I see that Matt's member might be every bit as thick as my beer bottle comparison, and I begin to doubt my ability to even get it in my mouth. None the less, I begin stuffing the bulbous head past my lips. Feeling my jaw stretch well past the point needed to take Conner, I know that if I were wearing panties, they'd be soaked right now. As if to prove this point, and because Matt is a bit taller than Conner, I switch from a kneeling position to a squatting one, giving me a better angle on Matt, and freer access to my now aching cunt.