I lay back on the sofa, supported by both my elbows. My eyes were wide, as I pouted at the cameraman who was focused on my spread legs. I was wet, my labia open, a trickle of my juice trickled from my opening, down and between the cheeks of my bum, all caught on his UHD camera. The fact that I didn't really want to be here was lost on my body, then it wasn't its fault, it had been helped along the way by a combination of a molly and a line of coke. I was feeling super sexy, and incredibly hot. I looked beyond the camera momentarily, looking for and then seeing my husband. I knew he was enjoying this, my degradation, knew his cock would have been super hard if the woman that had brought us here hadn't sucked his cock dry, just a moment ago. Sucked him, as he watched me, fingering myself for the camera, as he came in her mouth, as she swallowed his load. I should have been jealous of her, but I wasn't. They wouldn't have let him fuck me in any case, not until this, whatever this was, was over. Until then, I was theirs. Perhaps it would never be over, I'd considered that more than once in the last few days. I was distracted, I focused back on the camera lens, and reached down unbidden to pull my clit hood back and caress my bud of joy. I tuned slightly, keeping my legs spread, my feet slightly raised on the six-inch heels I was wearing, the only things I was wearing, and reached for the vibrator I knew was there. I took it, then resumed my original position, and sucked the tip of it, leaving a smear of red lipstick circling it. I looked back up, not seeing my husband, just two other men watching me. Men in designer clothes, with expensive haircuts, and Rolex watches, each had an expensive woman on their arms, equally expensively dressed, their makeup, like mine perfect, one focused on me nodded her approval. They watched as their property fucked herself with the vibrator, now deep in my cunt, as the camera recorded it all in ultra-high definition. Then the orgasm began to build deep inside me, my mouth opened in the expected "O" I came noisily, for the camera, for the men in the designer clothes, and the designer dressed women as they watched me cum.
One week earlier.
"Darling, get a move on, or we're miss the bloody plane," Joel shouted up the stairs.
"Ready!" I called back, even though I wasn't. Well not quite.
"I'll be in the taxi!"
I heard him close the front door and imagined his impatience. I looked at myself in the mirror, my shoulder length blonde hair shone, my 36C boobs contained within my sundress, a hint of cleavage. I was twenty six, but I still got asked for an ID when I went clubbing. I applied my lipstick, and then I was ready. I set the house alarm, then locked the front door behind, sure that I'd forgotten something. At least it wasn't my passport, and my boarding card was downloaded on my phone.
"Phone!" I opened my handbag, to see it there between my purse and passport.
The journey to the airport was its usual tedious self, the driver trying and failing to be amusing, until he finally gave up. I'd like to say we sailed through security, but we didn't, Joel set the alarm off, twice. The happy smiling woman decided my handbag was the one of thousands that needed to be hand searched and held up my spare knickers on the end of her finger for all to see. There were children in the VIP lounge, so that was a waste of money, shouldn't they have been at school? At least they wouldn't be at our hotel, thank God.
The cabin crew were a delight and made the long flight painless. No turbulence, and a following wind we landed early. The resort had sent a car for us, which was waiting, the aircon was pleasantly cool as we sped along the coastal road.
The present day.
Sweat glistened on my body, as I breathed hard after my orgasm, the area on the bed between my legs was soaked, which obviously the cameraman wanted to capture for all to see. I needed some water, the effects of the molly adding to my physical exertions, but we were only just getting started, they wanted their monies worth, and I was going to give it to them, whether I wanted to or not.
"Megan, fuck yourself with your butt plug, as well as the vibrator, angle yourself so I can see both, but keep focused on the camera, it's the camera you're fucking," said the cameraman, whose name I'd already forgotten.
I gave it my full-on porn star performance, well what I knew of porn star performances from watching the occasionally movie, and now I'd be in one myself. I suddenly wondered if my dad would see it, that would give him a heart attack! Then knew he wouldn't, this wasn't going to be shown on any free porn site, and not for a moment did I think he'd pay for quality when he could watch for free. I worked the two toys as I'd been instructed, which meant I was getting there again. They had me switch positions, up on my knees, arse to the camera, as I somehow managed to look over my shoulder at the camera, as it recorded it all, as my small audience watched it all live and up close.
Five days earlier
"Your tan is looking good Meg," Joel said as he admired my naked body.
"Why thank you, you perv!"
"Shame about the white patch."
"Well, it's not that white, thanks to the spray tan I had before we came away. I'll get one of the girls in the spa to do something."
"Get her get rid of that landing strip while she's about it."
"Joel, I am not going totally bare, we've had this conversation before, I like it as it is ok!"
"Not even for me Meg?"
"Not even for you, now let's go down, beach or pool?"
"The pool today, and you can pop in the spa and make your booking, unless you want me to do it?"
"No, I'll book it, then I'll know what I am getting!"
We laid beside the pool for most of the morning, doing absolutely nothing, until one of the resort staff dropped by to enquire if we wanted any of their services, we didn't until she mentioned she was conducting a private tour of Arab quarter that evening.
"How private?" Joel asked her.
"As private as you want, so just the two of you, or a small group, perhaps one other couple?"
"What do you think babe?" He asked.
"Whatever, but let's go, it sounds like fun."
"Just one other couple, then, that way I'll have someone to talk to when she wants to shop!"
"I'll charge it to your room, met at 8.30 in reception. Oh, and comfortable shoes."
With that she was gone. I closed my eyes again and did what I liked to do on holiday. Relax.
At eight thirty we were in the lobby, Joel being one of those "on time freaks."
Ella was our guide, she was nice, and chatty, our fellow tourists were Angela and Mike. She was lovely, he was a complete arse wipe, which meant he got on famously with Joel, and they talked football. Ella knew everyone, and everyone knew Ella. At last, we stopped for a drink. The bar was on a crossroads, with a view down each road. The mint tea was refreshing, Joel drank a beer.
"Ella," Angela said, "why haven't we been down that road?"
As soon as she said it, I wanted to know too. It looked by far the most authentic of all the streets in the Arab quarter.
"It's not nice down there, lots of illegal things. Not for nice people."
"Illegal things, what sort of illegal things?" Mike wanted to know, and I expected Joel did as well.
"Disreputable clubs and bars."
"You mean strip clubs?" Mike asked.
"That and much worse, we should leave," Ella said.
Yes, let's and let's go and take a look," Joel said with sudden found enthusiasm.
"If I take you, you do what I tell you."
The boys agreed, Angela and I just nodded.
At first it was disappointing, not a lot different from where we'd already been, then we turned a corner and that all changed.
"Is that a prostitute over there?" I asked, indicating to a girl standing in the classic hooker pose.
"Yes, she is."
As Ella said that, so the girl waved to her.
"You know her?" I asked.
"Yes, now let's keep going," Ella instructed.
"I want to talk to her, come on," I said.
