Total Woman Journal 06

Buster had spent two days engaged in multiple farewell forget-me-not fucks with the departing young lady and then joined with the other veteran staff for three days of similar intensive orientation with the incoming sexual artiste. He was tired and napping fitfully in his chair.

Thus, he felt irritated when the door buzzer disturbed his rest. Official opening was midafternoon but Buster sometimes had to politely chase away some randy old member who wanted to jump the line. Still, this was very early, even for an elderly early bird.

He opened the door to bright sunshine pouring in and it took a moment for his blurry eyes to adjust. Blinking to clear his vision, Buster discovered the cute little minx from a month ago standing on the sidewalk. She wore the same red club wear dress and heels, the one she had been wearing on the night they had first met a month ago.

Farrah smiled brightly as the look of recognition washed across Buster's face.

"Hello, my handsome prince. Do you still have that something special of mine? I promised to return for it and give you a reward."

Buster chuckled knowingly. He opened the door wide in invitation for Farrah to enter.

"I think I can find it. Come on in while I look around."

Farrah stepped inside as Buster relocked the door. He turned to his side office near the vestibule and set a cardboard box on the desk. Although the elite male audience usually retained a piece of their sex performer's undergarments as souvenirs, the cleaning staff occasionally found discarded bits in the morning. Buster kept the boxful in his office as a sort of genital musk-odor potpourris.

He sorted through the collection, pausing to show Farrah a candidate article which she eliminated with a negative head shake. Finally a stained bright white mini-thong got a positive response. Buster held it while he returned the box to the shelf.

He dangled her thong on his finger much as Farrah had done to her heckler some weeks before.

"What kind of reward did you have in mind?" His question dripped with false innocence.

Farrah was amused but not fooled. Both knew 'what' the reward was going to be. The 'where' and 'how' was the question. Farrah wanted Buster to be happy with the outcome and cocked an eyebrow, inviting his lead.

Buster gently took her hand and led Farrah into the club's dim and empty main room and onward to the darkened low stage. She watched as he retrieved a padded bench from the wing and positioned it behind her at center stage.

Buster sat on the bench, placed her panties at his side and folded his hands in his lap, attentive as Farrah posed before him. In the control booth above the bar at the rear of the house, the lighting technician was fiddling with his control board. He spied Buster and Farrah on stage, arranging the furniture and settling in. He recognized Farrah as the minx who had stopped the show weeks before with her unscheduled lap dance. She was obviously setting up for another performance with Buster. No opportunity wasted, the technician quickly prepped the video cameras to record her exposition. Streaming the edited video online would advertise the club and generate more revenue.

Farrah heard light disco music filter into the air. An overhead spot dimly glowed down on her. Apparently, someone was adjusting the ambiance and would witness Buster's reward. She didn't care. She was leaving the island today and nobody would remember her particular passing presence among the many sexy women who crossed this stage before or after her.

Farrah bunched her riotous tresses atop her head, picked up the music beat and sashayed her hips in a slow dancer's pivot. Facing away from Buster towards the missing house audience, she rolled her hips, coyly peaking over her shoulder at Buster. Her hands released the bundle of curls and descended to the dress top ties, pulling the knotted closure.

The dress fell to her waist, exposing her bare back to Buster and her fine-looking tits to the rolling cameras. The observant technician zoomed in for a better aspect. Farrah's body swayed to the music and she shimmied and quivered the dress past her compact hips. It dropped to the floor and she was naked but for her dancer's heels.

Farrah turned her focus to Buster. Still in dance mode, she stepped back and forth in front of him, spinning and swaying, giving him all around views of her excellence from many angles. The unseen cameras recorded her strip dance as well.

Her movements closed the gap and she eventually ended standing at Buster's knees. Farrah leaned in and unfastened his pants; he helped her slide them off. His cock was flaccid despite her presentation. Farrah took up the challenge. She straddled his legs, sitting well forward, propping his large penis upright and nestling her exposed cunt against it. Her face leaned in and took his mouth and tongue in a smoldering kiss as she began her signature slow tenting movement on his manhood.

Buster responded to the moves, showing his appreciation for her premium lap-dance. His hands guided her hips as she continued the genital caress. The cameras continued to roll as the technician zoomed in and out to best capture the stimulating action for prosperity.

After a few minutes, Buster showed some arousal. Farrah felt his cock gain tumescence against her wet and warm labia but it was still not fully hard. She had given it a good try but further measures were needed. She slid down his legs until she kneeled on the floor. Levering his legs apart, she shinnied forward. Her tongue licked his length before her lips and mouth gobbled his knob. That got a firmer reaction. He was harder and longer now, rigid enough that she could push down and get his knob past her tonsils. Swallowing caresses further firmed the situation.

The technician activated additional side stage and overhead cameras, collecting the show from multiple angles. He unfastened his pants and extracted his erection. From now on, he would be multi-tasking in his booth: recording and masturbating.

Buster was delighted with the little minx's attentions. Farrah felt his hands settle on her head, guiding his cock deeper into her throat. She moaned and the vibrations set off tingles in Buster's rod. He held her face down, drawing out her full range of skills: swallows, moans, shaft licks, everything. He let her pause occasionally to breathe. Finally, he felt the urge to move onward in collecting his reward for dependably securing her lost lingerie. He let her up and snapped his fingers. She scampered back into his lap.

Farrah held his shoulders as she hovered in pre-mount position. Buster gripped her ass, aligning the connection. He held her there suspended as he kissed and suckled each of her rosy nipples in turn. Another smoldering lip-locked kiss accompanied her descent as her pussy was impaled on the meaty shaft. She slid all the way down, feeling his length bump her cervix. She braced her hands on his chest, closed her eyes and let the muscular black man lift and drop her to set the rhythm. He began with long deliberate strokes. His powerful arms pumped the woman on his erection, using her womb to caress his cock. It was a workout for him, even with the moderate size of Farrah.

Buster wanted less strenuous action for the finale. He gripped handfuls of nubile ass, stood up and, maintaining penetration, lay Farrah back on the bench. Farrah hugged the black stud's body with locked wrists and crossed ankles. She readied herself to become the receptacle of Buster's lust. His hips hammered away in the cradle of her splayed thighs. His long strokes quickened, then shortened and then became a frenzy as he plumbed Farrah's cunt in the climb towards his sensual peak.

Buster bellowed out at the summit and pulsed his essence deep within her. Farrah felt the warm jets flow inside her and she swooned into a drawn-out trance. Still drifting in her the dream state, she barely noticed when the satiated Buster eventually drew out and left her limp body reposed on the bench. As he strode from the stage, Buster high-fived the chauffer, signaling his handoff of Farrah back into the driver's responsibility. The reliable wheel man had come inside to check on the tardy Farrah and had watched much of the show.

The technician in the booth turned off the cameras and stage lights. He wiped off the sperm and lotion coating his left hand. The erotic scene had progressed well and he had cum right along with the actual participants. Now he would cut and edit the spooled recordings into a premier final product. The edited version of the video would soon join others on the club's pay-per-view site and provide customers with similar masturbation stimulus. More importantly, it might incentivize them to pay the high club fees for attendance at the live events.

Farrah emerged from her pseudo-coma alone on the bench. The chauffer stood by in attendance. Seeing her come back to the present, he helped her to sit up. He found her panties that had been beneath her back on the bench during her final stint underneath Buster. Always the gentleman, the chauffer helped her don her panties. He pulled them tight, patting the crotch, watching it get stained anew; this time with manly dribbles leaking from her womb. Seeing how weary she was, the chauffer carried her to the limo, depositing her in the backseat for the remaining ride to the airport.

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Meanwhile, back in the TWA house library, Ned had been submerged beneath his two remaining naked trainees. He had somehow spied Farrah earlier at the door and wiggled an arm above the melee, waving a mediocre goodbye. She returned the wave and blew him a kiss, signifying that she understood his inability to walking her out appropriately. Life has priorities at any one moment and his amorous partners never skipped a beat in establishing their current primacy of his attentions.

Ned had left Farrah fast asleep earlier that morning. He had toddled toward the kitchen, intending to serve her a farewell breakfast in bed. Along the way, he had been ambushed by the last pair of housemates.

The three days that he had devoted to Gus, Paula and Farrah had been too long a dry spell for the last two attendees. They had made a pact to double team Ned over the next two days, rejecting individual consecutive sessions. Now that Ned's carnal rundown with Farrah was concluded, they were too impatient to wait any longer. They pounced on the man of the house and hustled him giddily to the nearest furniture, which happened to be in the library.

Pajamas and lingerie were hastily abandoned and naked Ned was laid out on the makeshift altar of the sofa. Jolie and Belinda dove into the first litany of their intended two days of cock worship.

Jolie and Belinda had prearranged their first roles; there was no competition here. Jolie horded Ned's cock, reprising Ned's first attraction to her lips, swallowing him quickly. Belinda blocked his vision of anything else but her eyes, though letting him nibble her nipples a bit. Ned let them play and rewarded their efforts with a glob of sperm. The ladies traded his male discharge back and forth between their smooching lips, sharing the cum-wad.

Ned evaded their clutches while the girls were momentarily distracted, playing with his sperm. He toddled through the kitchen, snagging a cup of java, as he escaped to the rear yard pool area. He was soon joined by the amorous pair who let him lounge as they sunbathed nude nearby. The day was spent in leisure: napping, splashing, a little naked group Yoga after Ned lifted weights in the gym.

Ned decided an evening on the town was warranted before leaving the island. The girls dressed in revealing dance-club fashions; Ned opted for dark slacks and shirt. The limo dropped them at the upscale resort club. Ned wore sunglasses, even though it was night-time, parodying a mysterious celebrity accompanied by two mouthwatering pieces of arm candy. The waiting line tittered with conjecture as Ned and his consorts were quickly ushered inside.

They occupied a corner booth, shielded from the curious crowd by the club's VIP protection crew. The music was loud, suppressing any attempt at conversation. Ned was not concerned; what more could they say to each other after a month of orgies. What secrets were yet to be revealed? His escorts went to the dance floor to see and be seen. The dresses certainly let them be seen. Short skirts hopped to give peek-a-boo ass cheek flashes. Loose tops imparted amusing little nip-slips. The male clientele were very attentive.

Ned was approached by hopeful female fans, some ducking past the sentinels. They slipped into his booth for close-up greetings, seeking his identity. Ned was polite but aloof. The club crew allowed the thrill seekers to banter until Ned signaled them to remove the curious devotees.

The trio finally tired of the faux fame and took their leave. They ascended the elevator to the reserved upper floor hotel suite. The view was romantically fantastic. The harbor sparkled as the lighted yachts swayed at their berths far below. The full moon adorned the wave crests that washed ashore and swept the beach. The flirty dancing and the follow-on serenity of the vista below put the young women in a mood for love-making. Ned splayed out on the sofa, facing the night view and letting his dates initiate the action.

Jolie set the stereo to emit gentile vocal strains. She and Belinda swayed before Ned, a sensuous foreground to the background night vista. They helped each other dance out of their clothes, the soft moonlight glowing off their smooth skin. They joined Ned on the sofa, working from either side to get him naked and ready for love. The female team performed the disrobing and titillation, kissing his lips, ears, chest and bellybutton. They jointly held and stroked his erection until it was long and sturdy. When they steered him to the bedroom and its gargantuan bed, Ned was unresisting. Throughout the night, their lovemaking was often, gentle and gratifying.

At dawn, Ned woke alone in the bed. The last two participants of his month long colloquium had departed a day early, returning to their mainland lives. He lay quiescent and exhausted but proud that his seminar had been successful in amplifying the propensities of his pupils.

Today, Ned would leave the island and return to his traditional responsibilities and functions as the Emeritus Coach Tutor of the Total Woman Academy.