The Zookeeper Ch 04

Chapter 4

Toilet Fun

A scant five minutes later, the young man slipped into the far right side hallway, a little bit running, a little bit walking with a stride that could in any way be described but casual.

His mouth was open to ease his labored breathing, and his eyes darting in every direction in search of his promised land, his brain always imbued with the belief that it was impossible for such a thing to be happening to him of all people.

Instead, it was all true. His gaze took a while to locate the conspicuous, flamboyant-haired figure, for the task sounded so difficult to him that he tried first to search the hidden corners of the ceiling and floor rather than directly in front of him.

And there she stood, leaning against the wall in a pose that seemed to have been drawn by an erotic artist, such was her iconographic perfection: one leg stretched out to support that magnificent ass leaning against the wall, the other bent over with her heel resting against the wall, accentuating the curvaceous forms. She was smoking that sort of cigarette of hers with a dreamy look that only alcoholic intoxication could paint on a face, and on hers, so flawless and wicked, it only served to give a mental image: she looked like a slut waiting for her customer.

That was the only word his head could conjure up that vision with.

Slut, slut slut slut.

Beautiful, eye-catching, hot. And she was waiting for him. He was the customer.

His previously wandering eyes locked on her like those of a shark on its prey, and his stride left any semblance of a walk and changed to an impatient trot.

She, of course, instantly spotted him, turning her head just as she blew out yet another puff, her hand with the vaporizer raised in a resting position beside her face.

Slut, slut slut slut slut.

She was doing that on purpose; she had to: no one could be so accurate in reproducing an erotic fantasy so precisely without having the clear intent of doing so. Especially since she was portraying it so effortlessly and casually.

He came close to her, almost expecting her to disappear as if she were a mirage, but the woman merely finished blowing out the smoke and then turned to him as if everything were normal:

"Were you able to convince your coworker to cover for you?"

"Sort of: he told me I could keep the one hundred dollars if I got him to come too..." He replied a little flushed and definitely struggling to keep himself from jumping on her.

"And what did you tell him?" She asked mockingly.

"That you're not... That you're not a call-girl.... And if you were, with a hundred dollars he couldn't even look at your ass."

"That's so cute!" She said, genuinely flattered, "I'd say you've really earned these." Without even vaguely waiting for a reaction, she unceremoniously grabbed her top with her free hand, yanked it up abruptly, and simultaneously dropped that pair of soft, perfect bombshells that dangled in front of him, finally free. "...Help yourself!"

Slut, slut slut slut slut.

Held on the edge all evening, faced with yet another brazen show-off and far from the eyes of the other patrons, the boy could take it no more and stretched out both hands and then sank his rapacious fingers inside that walking milk factory.

"Fuck! They are huge!" He only managed to utter before beginning to squeeze and grope in an absolutely chaotic pattern.

Seeing the young man's spirited eyes as he seized the much-desired prize amused Azuki immensely, and she let him enjoy it unhindered, to fully appreciate his urge that he was finally able to let loose.

The admittedly small rational part of the bartender's brain that still remained active realized how the other one was watching him completely at ease being harassed in the hallway of a pub just as only a huge...

SLUT

...could. By now that word was hammering him like a headache after a major hangover, but the more he stared at her in an attempt to say it to her face, the more that animalistic attraction mingled with far deeper infatuation.

Reflecting this change, slowly the eyes abandoned their wild look and took on a decidedly more adoring and devoted one. Even as his hands continued to massage her breasts with wide movements, they began to become rhythmic, following the cadence of his breathing.

Soon the passion began to take on a definite shape and intention, as did the direction his gaze was trailing to, and the young man's head began to be inexorably drawn to Azuki's plump lips.

She was obviously aware that she had that effect. She had it on everyone; she had drawn herself to have it. But, as she had well told her victim, she liked to see the effect she had on males, but making out with them just wasn't an option.

As usual feeling a little guilty about being a self-centered whore, she decided to make it up to him in her own way by distracting that dangerous attraction with a juicier prize.

"You really like them, huh?" She interrupted with a staggering obviousness and then dropped a devastating, "You want to taste them?"

The romantic attraction that had just sprouted in the young man's gaze was brutally crushed by that umpteenth raise in the realm of sluttiness, the opportunity so out of any expectation and even most daydreaming fantasies that it could in no way be lost.

As if he were an Olympic runner at the starting line of the 100-meter final, the bartender did not even waste time responding or marveling at the turn things had taken and immediately plunged his face toward Azuki's tits, wrapping his lips around his patron's left nipple. Immediately, his tongue began to caress the small ridge erect with arousal, resuming the massage that just moments earlier the young man had mimicked with the touch of his fingers.

He was amazed himself at how his brain had literally gone haywire. Under normal circumstances, he would never have reacted to an invitation even as explicit as that by going so straight to the point; he would have tried to make himself look good by softly getting closer, dispensing kisses and caresses, but the sexual energy that Azuki had managed to throw all that sophistication out the window.

He found himself first sucking as if he were a baby attached to his mother's breast and then making his tongue make wider and wider circles, savoring the skin and discovering a captivating taste that he could not quite put into words.

Although completely natural, it had an extremely strong flavor and yet was the exact opposite of unpleasant: it was intoxicating in the true sense of the word.

It was at that moment that he noticed that, along with the sensation it left on his tongue, Azuki's skin gave off an equally singular scent.

When he inhaled his first taste of it, an electric shock went through his nostrils and then spread throughout his head, causing him to squint and suck on the nipple so hard that it imprisoned him in an airtight grip.

What was it? It certainly wasn't perfume. It was wild, exactly like the taste he felt on her skin. Nothing artificial could have that absurd balance: a smell at once pungent and yet irresistible.

The closest feeling he found was what some people say they feel when they sniff the fumes of gasoline: they sense that it is not a good smell, but they find it strangely captivating.

The difference lay in the fact that what she had on her had nothing chemical in its aroma....

Could it be her sweat?

He did not know why, but at that thought his cock twitched involuntarily, as if the idea of being able to taste that

primal

smell, emanating from her body, was an intrusion, a conquest of that woman's intimacy on par with eating her out.

Yes, that was it: it was as if he was smelling her snatch, but not quite like it. It was different, but with the same criminal effect on his sexual urges. And it was all over her skin, although it seemed stronger just under....

What a fucking slut she was!

As she stared smugly from above at the meltdown she had triggered, Azuki addressed herself with that same word.

She knew perfectly well what was happening to the poor guy: she had manipulated her genetic code to smell like that. True to her irresistible dictate to be the most desirable female wherever she was, a perfect physical appearance had not been enough, and she hopelessly rigged the game by literally exuding pheromones, imbuing her body with that pungent yet irresistible smell that triggered the craving for sex.

Certainly not well advised by her alcohol level, she decided to further escalate the situation, bringing her left arm behind her head in an only seemingly casual gesture and then using her right hand to direct the bartender's head to a specific spot, compounding the gesture with the phrase

"Give them a good taste underneath, too."

As if mesmerized, the young man obeyed her command by letting go of the grip his mouth had on her tit and allowing her hand to lead him to the underside of her boobs, tracing a path with his tongue, which he could not pull away from that hellish taste.

Her hand left his head free and went to lift the pink globe slightly, silently inviting him to taste the hollow beneath her breasts.

As soon as his taste buds reached that secret valley, however, he immediately realized that he was screwed: the taste immediately became addictive, forcing him to smear his tongue over it as a child would do with a spoonful of chocolate cream. At the same time, a stronger whiff of that pungent smell reached him from under her jacket, making his eyes roll in their sockets from how hard his cock became.

Bloody hell! What the fuck was that girl made of? He went down on drenched pussies that smelled and tasted less arousing than her dry skin. If he weren't still wearing his work clothes, which were definitely uncomfortable to unfasten on the fly, he would surely have started masturbating using that sensation as a stimulation, and he had no doubt it would have been the quickest and most satisfying orgasm of his life.

With his left hand, which had never let go of his grip on her other breast, he responded to that sensory overload by giving a hard squeeze that would surely have made a partner without Azuki's powers scream in pain.

She, on the other hand, remained completely unfazed by that manic attention; in fact, she actually enjoyed it: the guy was indeed an exemplary "victim," his instinctive responses giving great satisfaction to a kinky Slut like her.

At this rate, this is going to end with me riding his face with my cunt,

came to her mind in a fleeting moment of clarity that arose when she sensed the distinct temptation to grab the guy's head and take it elsewhere.

It was only the question of whether the next meal would be the navel or the armpit that showed her the slippery slope her lust was taking. She knew, in fact, very well that the navel was only an intermediate stop to a lower destination, and, likewise, if she made him taste her armpits, then it would have been impossible for him not to end up licking another, far more flavored, hairy place.

All this prompted her to regain some degree of control of the situation, stroking his head in a motherly gesture to distract him at least a little from his feast.

"Fuck, you taste

Good!"

"...And fuck how ravenous you are: did you notice that you never opened the door? You're making out my boobs in the middle of the toilet hallway: do you really want to get fired?"

His transfixed gaze remained frozen in its adoration while inside he sincerely thought that, if she were to pull her pants down that very second, he would not only get himself fired but would also get himself arrested so that he could just shove his face between those thighs, but, imagining with the last glimmer of rationality that his patron would not share such a wish, he called upon all of his willpower and pulled away from her chest.

"Uh... No... I..." He mumbled several times without being able to form a meaningful sentence. Giving up on the attempt, the young man merely shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a key with which he rather nervously fumbled with the lock before making it click and opening the said door impetuously. He nervously slipped in, holding the door open for his customer. She went in with all the cool and grace of the Queen of Sluts, taking another drag of her cigarette and, of course, with her boobs completely in the open.

Exactly one second passed, however, before Azuki heard the door close behind her, and then the bartender latched onto her, taking her from behind, running his hands under her arms to grope her tits, and firmly putting his crotch right in the middle of her bubbly ass.

She let him do his thing, smiling to herself, her need for the spotlight extremely fulfilled in feeling herself the object of such impetuous lust. Indeed, she leaned back to facilitate his rubbing, which soon became a clear mimicry of intercourse.

Mmmmm... Maybe I'll let him frig my clit....

She heard herself thinking in an attempt to at least deflect the dangerous mental image of how she would completely dominate him by holding his head pressed into her crotch, making him eat her out like an obedient little puppy.

Of course, none of these scenarios were going to end well for the poor guy, whose highest sexual fulfillment might have been to cum by jerking off while kneeling at her feet as she pissed in his mouth.

Cruel yet realistic scenario, given her aversion to the male anatomy.

So now she was struggling against her hangover to find a middle way to throw her improvised admirer (and her own exhibitionist disposition) a bone, but without then sending him home with blue balls (more than they already were), all without making him so frothing with desire that she had to subdue him with a kick in the balls, not least because, after all, she genuinely liked him.

Thankfully, as was often the case in situations where she let her "needs" go too far, it was her sweet, and so very cucked, girlfriend who saved the day. And this time her assistance came in the form of the ringtone of her cell phone as it echoed among the unadorned walls of the bathroom stall.

The grip on her breasts stiffened but did not loosen, a sign that the panic had only suspended and not erased the boy's lust.

She jumped at the chance, again without giving any sign of discomfort, taking the phone from the pocket where she had stowed it and answering the call without making any attempt to get out of the guy's grasp.

"Hello?" She uttered without the slightest trace of embarrassment as she brought the device closer to her ear.

Behind her, however, she could hear the bartender silently struggling between the logical behavior of pulling himself together and the very deep desire not to give in to the idea that the intercourse had to be interrupted right at its best.

The situation had something of an irony to it, given the events of the afternoon: Azuki could deeply empathize with the young man's frustration, having experienced the same feeling only a few hours earlier, but this time the interruption was turning in her favor and, at the very least, it certainly wouldn't fall to the young man to defuse a human bomb in the near future.

"

Mon Amour

, are you there? Are you all right?" Cassie's voice on the other end of the line asked, "Everything is ready here. I'm done with the prep work. I am here with Brittany and Ulrika; we are waiting for you for the toast."

"Thanks, love. I'm almost done too. I'll join you in a little while." She chirped all tender in spite of her situation. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then Cassandra resumed in a slightly less affectionate tone.

"

Chérie?

Are you still at the pub?"

"Yes, I'm gonna pay and get going now." She replied, still very coolly, but clearly able to notice her companion's voice register veering toward the suspicious.

"I don't hear any background noise." Commented the other sharply, the sentiment now completely gone from her voice.

"Just a quick stop at the restroom." She was quick to explain herself. Apparently, however, this did not resolve but rather made the situation worse.

"FaceTime me right now!" She ordered, now decisively accusatory.

The panic of the young man still clinging to Azuki's breast became of epic proportions, and the struggle between his conflicting instincts feverish.

Fuck! What a shitty situation!!!

Screamed the barman in his head, trying to figure out what to do. In the mental turmoil he was in, however, the only absurd thing he could think of was to crouch down behind her, making himself as small as possible. As he lived and breathed, however, as much as he was afraid of being caught, he could in no way keep his hands off those divine knockers, thus becoming a comical parody of a koala backpack rather than a stealthy lover on the verge of being caught by the "husband."

Realizing how laughable his approach was, he hoped his partner would come up with something to buy time to find something better. To his horror, Azuki instead instantly obeyed her partner's order, activating the front-facing camera and pointing it directly at her own face.

"Here I am, Sweetheart!" She greeted her always flirting like a newlywed in spite of the rack Cassandra was putting her on.

This was finally the straw that sent the boy's panic skyrocketing, making him able to relinquish his soft grip and try to curl into a ball on his knees, hoping to dodge the digital eye. Azuki, however, tipped backward before he could pull off the maneuver, trapping him between her and the wall, leaving as his only option awkwardly trying to hide behind her shoulder.

"Pan aroun...." The other one began immediately as if that was a typical routine for the two of them. The voice, however, stopped immediately when faced with that first shot. "...Is that a man behind you?" She asked bluntly, almost incredulous at the stupidity of the whole situation.

Fuck! He made a complete ass of himself!

What was one supposed to do at this point? At least look like just a pig, instead of a pig and a sucker, too. So he slowly lifted his head, trying to overcome his shame to act as a "man" and face the consequences of his actions.

At an excruciating, painfully slow pace, he looked up at the phone, all the while unable to help but wonder why the fuck his partner in crime wasn't doing a damn thing to avoid getting so deeply into so much shit.

When his eyes managed to turn guiltily toward the display, however, his mask of remorseful shame was broken by an expression that was nothing short of stunned.

What a fine piece of ass!

Those were the only words that came to his mind when he saw Cassandra's face on the screen.

The half-French girl's ice-cold beauty bewitched him almost as much as Azuki's fiery one, and the thought of the two of them fucking together pierced his brain, completely overriding that of having just been caught cucking one of them.

His member shuddered, becoming, if possible, even stiffer; Azuki, realizing this, had as her only cruel response to push back a little more her ass, giving his cock a titillating massage, all the while still smiling lovingly at her girlfriend.

"Fuck!" He let slip, barely managing to keep his gaze toward the phone, trying with very little result to mimic his customer's demeanor.

His breathing became short and rapid as the blood rushed to his brain.

He knew he should have been terrified and embarrassed, but at the same time, he found himself terribly aroused.

Watching that fashion model's face as he stood with his dick planted between her girlfriend's ass cheeks gave him a feeling of power equal and opposite to the fear of consequences.