1. The Hangout


    Date: 11/3/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Consensual Sex, First Time, Job/Place-of-work, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Author: wantsomefun, Rating: 89.1, Source: sexstories.com

    little ass as she walked to her door. Monday morning, we went to the club early to start the fans. At ten, an entourage pulled into the parking lot where we were waiting. The owner and a half dozen other men followed us into the building. Martha led the group to the middle of the room in the light leaking through the fan housings, and I worked the control boxes. The full black light treatment made them gasp, and when I turned on the spotlights and strobes, there was applause. “Fuckin’ fantastic!” the owner yelled. Martha and I led him around the room pointing out details, as the others broke off to study things on their own. When we returned to the lighting panel, I switched on the white lights and turned off everything else. “Kids,” the owner said, “I didn’t think you could get it fuckin’ done in time. I knew you had the talent and vision, Martha, but you needed this guy’s help. I used to hang fuckin’ aluminum siding. I know what working on scaffolding is like. This place looks fuckin’ amazing, much better than I hoped. Please come to opening night. The place has to be booze and drug free, but,” he chuckled, “you know how it is. Here’s your last check with a ten percent fuckin’ bonus.” “Ten percent?” Martha wondered. “Five hundred dollars,” I said. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” she beamed. “You were worth every fuckin’ penny,” the owner said. He lowered his voice. “I know fellow pot heads when I see them. Some fuckin’ people aren’t cool.” He moved his head to indicate a few men on ...
    the far end of the room. “Here’s a little thank you gift. Take this cigarette pack and fuckin’ hide it.” I stuffed the little box under my tee shirt and went to the rest room to transfer it to my sock inside my boot. Under my bell bottoms, it was safely concealed. When I came back, Martha gave the owner his key, and we left. “What’s in the cigarette pack?” Martha asked when we were on the road. “I didn’t look. Kinda awkward to get to right now. It’s in my right sock – brake and gas foot. We can check it at my house. My folks aren’t home.” My bedroom was over the garage. I opened the window so it would be easy to hear a car coming. Then I pulled the cigarette pack from my sock and handed it to Martha. “This is yours.” “Mine to share with you, yeah.” She opened the box. “Holy shit!” She dumped two fat joints and a note into her hand. I read the paper. “This is the GOOD shit. You probably never had anything like it before. Save one for opening night. It will be more than enough for both of you.” Even though I was a derelict college kid on summer break, I dressed carefully for the first night at The Hangout – my good boots, clean elephant bell bottom jeans, and a tie-dye shirt I bought at a concert and only wore on special occasions. It looked great under black light. I pulled my hair back under a white sweatband (again for the lights), and I was set to party. Martha’s parents sent me up to her room. “Are you ready, or are you going to be like a girl?” I teased. She gave me the ...
«12...91011...1819»