Artifact free porn video

 
Kylie Venn smoothed the front of her black pleated skirt and reviewed the work she had done on her ipad. A range of photos of architectural closeups of different modernist landmarks. She'd perhaps pretentiously shifted them to black and white. They looked at times like alien artifacts. Strange geometries blown up under an electron microscope. She sipped her coffee.

She'd been working at the Vincent Clover Gallery for a month now, earning as she learned. It wasn't a lot, just a stipend, but it covered some of her basic living expenses, the majority of those being paid by her parents. Unlike many of her friends, she didn't have a large trust fund. A small allowance was all they gave her, but between it and her money from the gallery, she was able to make ends meet, barely.

Clothing was a top concern for her, but of course a woman's clothing budget was never enough. Not all the lottery winnings in the world could hope to fill up the infinite appetite for the ever changing whims of a young woman's taste, especially not one who wanted to be seen as cultured. Who wanted to convey a certain image of taste, or refinement, or non conformity, or cool, or whatever came to her mind that week as regards to what would look cool in a selfie.

She dreamed of having fame and fortune for her work, but for the time being, she was more than content to work on the sales aspect, pushing the work of artists who had already made it.

The Vincent Clover Gallery took a unique approach. In addition to contemporary work, they handled rare antiquities and artifacts from all the corners of the globe; masks from Africa, sculptures from ancient Egypt and South America. The owner liked to highlight the differences and similarities between the ancient and the modern. To show what we had gained, and what we had lost.

The gallery itself was a set of enormous white rooms, lit from high overhead. It was located in an industrial district where a number of other galleries had recently begun to create a kind of arts district. The wealthy clientele loved the grit of the place and it's associations of danger and even crime. 

It's inventory provided a sometimes shocking contrast, with ancient Hindu fertility sculptures and Japanese erotic woodblock prints next to contemporary photographs and abstract sculpture.

The owner, Vincent, was in his mid forties. Tall and muscular, with piercing blue eyes and dark black hair. He worked out a lot and took care of himself, knowing that he was as much a part of the sale as the quality of the work and it's reputation. His reputation became the work's reputation. When someone was paying tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands for an object, one needed to trust that the person selling it to you knew what they were doing. 

It wasn't like oil futures or real estate, where the thing had a purpose, or a use that could be used to make a definite profit, or where the value had some connection to reality. Art was all smoke and mirrors. All subjectivity.

He'd hired her after a grueling interview, insisting on hearing everything about her life, and background, and views on art. He has an almost salacious manner about him. Something that was almost creepy, yet at the same time magnetic. He was certainly far too old for her, and yet she couldn't help but feel somewhat attracted. He seemed to know so much about this business, and she so little. He seemed to know everyone, and she knew almost no one.

She'd been working for him for months now, just out of art school. He was slowly beginning to trust her. She admitted finding him super hot, despite their age differences. If anything, it made her hotter for him. 

That day he'd assigned her to receiving and cataloging a set of artifacts that were coming in from Turkey; works of ancient Greek and Hittite origin.  

A courier arrived around eleven. He wheeled in several crates, each five feet on each side, and she signed for them. Taking a pry bar to them, inside she found any number of sculptures, tiles, and artifacts; bubble wrapped and itemized on the manifest. Wearing soft white gloves, she began taking them to the store room for further study. Some would be placed in one of the gallery rooms, others would be left back here for the more exclusive clients to see. The store room itself was lined with racks for paintings and framed photographs.

One after another she ticked off the boxes next to the descriptions of objects until she was done. All told, it had taken her about three hours. Vincent was away for the day, and she was surprised he had given her this responsibility, as normally he was present during an intake. 

She stirred the foam packing peanuts to make sure she hadn't missed anything. What was that? Something at the bottom of the third crate? She leaned over and reached in, and her hand closed around something smooth and warm. Her hand pulled out, and when she opened it, she saw in it it something strange.

A round smooth stone, almost egg shaped, of black crystal, with strange runes inscribed on it. It almost felt like it pulsed in her hand, like some small animal. She couldn't recognize the writing from any of her ancient or art history classes. 

At that moment she heard the front door being unlocked (she had closed the gallery for the day) and the door swinging open. Almost by instinct she thrusted the object into her pocket and looked over.

Vincent was striding in, taking off his raincoat (it had been threatening to rain all day) and hanging it on the rack by the door. He quickly cleared the distance between them.

"So, how did it go?"

She found herself reddening, as her hand still clutched the object in her pocket. She withdrew her hand dramatically, almost to show that she hadn't put it in her pocket (why had she done that she thought?)

"Fine. It went great. I was just checking to see if there was anything I missed."

"Oh? Did everything check off on the manifest?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Well, then don't worry. I'm sure they didn't drop in any extra surprises..."

His voice had an almost knowing tone to it. As if he knew that Kylie had pocketed the object. As if it was written across her face. As if he had planned it.

"Oh...By the way," he said, "There's an opening at the Lamont Gallery tomorrow. I'll need you to attend. Dress smart. Meet me there at seven tomorrow. I want to introduce you to some people as I work the room."

"Okay. Anyone in particular you want me to pay attention to?"

"I'll point them out if need be."

"Okay. Sounds good."

"Oh, and Kylie.."

"Yes?"

"So, you say you were looking to see if there was anything else in the crates...Was there?"

A brief moment of silence. 

"No Vincent, nothing at all."

**

She had no idea why she had lied to Vincent. Something about the object compelled her to lie; to possess it, to have some secret she withheld from Vincent. That night, before she went to bed, she scanned the object more closely. She put it under her pillow, like some strange offering to the tooth fairy. The runes had been cut deeply into it, and it was more smokey than entirely opaque, although a sort of dark cloud lived in its heart. She'd looked online, but couldn't find anything of the sort. 

That night her dreams were filled with erotic imagery, of fucking and sucking different strangers in some dark chamber, with Vincent there, overseeing it all. 

The next day she woke up with her sheets soaked and feeling incredibly horny. Somehow the object had made it's way into her hands and seemed warmer than would seem reasonable. 

It was entirely out of character for her. She's always tried to maintain the image of herself as very proper and classy, not at all slutty, but she'd always harbored perverted fantasies. Why were these now breaking into her dreams?

She had mediocre, okay sex with her boyfriend, Phil, who she'd met at art school, the school she still attended. He was polite and very much believed in feminism and was not at all sexist. He always said all the right things. He always asked her what she wanted and if he was hurting her. He was terribly eager to please. A little too eager. 

*

She carefully selected an outfit. A matching black lace bra and panties, over a red dress hanging in folds. She would normally wear something more conservative, but she felt different today. Like showing off. Like being a center of attention. 

She arrived at the gallery early on and yet it was still packed. People dressed mostly in black. She located Vincent, who was holding court with a group of collectors and hangers on. It was no secret that a great number of collectors were gay, and Vincent's animal magnetism served him in great stead there. 

"Ahhh...And this is my new assistant, Kylie..."

Handshakes and introductions went all around, as the group commented on, praised, and picked apart the work of the artist, a series of photographs of himself in different animal costumes in various corporate boardroom settings. A wash of art speak bullshit flowed from Vincent's mouth. Half of the hustle of art was convincing people that buying it would make them appear cultured and intelligent, and one of the surest ways to do that was to speak to them in high flown nonsense, and pretend that everyone understood it. Or at least pretend that if you didn't understand it you were an idiot. It was an updated take on the Emperor's New Clothes.

She kept close to Vincent, his words and face seeming to cast ever more a spell on her. For some odd reason she had brought the talisman in her bag, and it seemed to grow heavier. Warmer. And for some other strange reason, this seemed to translate to a growing warmth between her legs.

Over the course of the evening, it was almost as if he were reading her mind. He kept on glancing over and giving her knowing looks. The memory of her dreams the night before, and the stone, and Vincent kept piling up and swirling around in her mind. Almost as if the stone was controlling her. She felt herself growing increasingly aroused in the middle of all these people. As if everyone could tell that even now her pussy was lubricating and soaking her panties. Bizarre, yet arousing thoughts filled her mind. She imagined dropping to her knees and blowing Vincent in front of this room full of people. Of letting him fuck her while everyone stood by an watched, making her in fact the center of attention, instead of the art. 

The evening was winding down. People were shuffling out. She could barely remember the names of all the people Vincent had introduced her to, and the various connections they had to him. This one owned a large software company. This one had millions from his parent's real estate. That one was a dominatrix to various in the wealthy men. Her head swam. She felt like she would need an Excel spreadsheet to keep them separate.

As if reading her mind, he touched her on the shoulder, which sent an electric shock through her, and flush to her neck.

"And don't worry if you don't remember them all. The key is to just pretend that you do. You'll get it all straight soon enough."

It was like they were connecting on some deeper level. Almost telepathic. His eyes bore into her, putting her in a spotlight that only the two of them could see.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"Yuhh...Yes...." her voice squeaked out.

He retrieved her coat from a hallway closet and put it around her shoulders. He led her outside and down the street to his car. Streetlights cast them in an unearthly glow. Suddenly, he took her hand, and leaned in, kissing her passionately on the lips. She was taken aback as his arm looped around her. She resisted within herself for a moment. Surely this was wrong. He was older and her employer. These thoughts were cast away as she tremblingly responded to him, falling into his arms, at first hesitant, but then returning his lust. 

He pulled her into a nearby alley and pushed her up against a wall. He kissed her savagely, burrowing his tongue into her mouth. His hand reached behind and hiked up her skirt to give himself better access to her firm yoga tight ass. She moaned as he pawed at her firm breasts. Her pussy was soaking as he rubbed the front of her panties, seeking out her quivering lips. He reached inside and teased her until she was a squirming mess. He unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and started teasing her with it. She moaned as he pressed in. Drawing her panties aside, he began easing his rod into her tight pussy. He gripped her waist for better traction and started slamming into her, all the while keeping his lips locked on hers. 

She was carried away by her arousal and desire and excitement. Pressed against the wall, she started arching her back and bucking her hips to meet him. Her fingers dug into his back, pulling him in. To her shock, she was moaning loudly like some cat in heat. He lifted her up with both arms, now holding her up against the wall. Her legs wrapped around him as he rocked her up and down like a sex doll, perfectly aligning his thrusts with her clit. She could feel her orgasm building and found herself begging him to not stop. She exploded in a a rainbow of sensation, a white lightning of screams. He responded by shooting his fiery cum deep inside her cunt, firing bolt after bolt of thick hot juice. 

They stopped, exhausted. He lowered her to the ground. Kissed her again.

She couldn't believe what had just happened. Just a short time ago she had been in an art opening, surrounded by people, now she was being used like a cheap whore by her boss.

"I think you should come over...spend the night."

Her inner conflict came back. Then, in a moment of impulse she overcame it. They doubled back, and he found his silver Lexus. He opened the door for her,and then walked around and got in.

His face was a composed mask as he started and revved the engine, then pulled out of his parking space. Through the dark streets they hurtled, though the financial district, to the exclusive downtown neighborhood he lived in. He idled his way into the underground parking garage and shut the engine off. 

He turned to face her and reached over, toying with her hair. He reached between her legs and pressed his hands into her crotch, feeling the lingering wetness there.

"Okay, we're here."

They got out and he carded them both into the building. He opened the door for her and disabled the security system.

"Make yourself at home. What would you like to drink? A glass of Merlot?"

"Yes... Please..."

She walked into the cavernous apartment. With it's ceiling reaching high above her and it's view of the city laid out, it was like some magical cave. Paintings adorned the wall and a grand piano was the centerpiece. 

He brought her a glass, full of delicious red and led her over to the couch.

Her mind swirled as he leaned in and began passionately kissing her, reaching around and unzipping her dress. His hands were in her hair, tangled in the long strands. Her heart was bounding through her chest as he pulled the sides of her dress down her arms, revealing her breasts encased in black mesh, her ripening nipples just aching for his touch. His tongue ran round her ear and down her cheek, probing, pressing, kissing, licking, sucking.

Her pussy gushed with wetness. How could she be doing this? Her hands explored his hair, and ran across his broad shoulders and chest, still wrapped in his blue business suit. 

He kissed his way down to her breasts, delighting in first one, then the other. He pulled them slightly out of their underwire mesh, so that the nipples were displayed for him. He sucked deeply on them, bringing them to their full hardness. She moaned in ecstasy as he reached around and undid her bra clasp with one hand, releasing her aching dove like breasts from their prison. His hands then reached around to her back, drawing her closer so she could feel the full mass of him.

He stood up, and she now noticed the considerable bulge, outlined at his crotch, straining against his trousers. He unzipped his fly, and released his throbbing and enormous cock. His hands roughly gripped the back of her head and he plunged himself into her slightly open mouth. She could barely take him all in. Phil was much smaller, and she was used to only giving him blow jobs on special occasions, and after he'd practically pleaded. 
 
He started fucking her face, using her mouth like some sex toy. His cock head bounced against the back of her throat as she controlled her gag reflex. He grabbed her hands and pulled them to the base of his cock.

"That's right, stroke it, stroke it while you blow me."

Her head bobbed back and forth as she inhaled him, stroking his cock, playing with his balls. His hands entangled themselves in her hair, pulling her head forward. He pushed her off the couch, and down onto her knees so he was now standing over her. 

She looked up with her big doe-eyes into his cold gaze as he continued to use her. He sat back down on the couch, and sprawled out, pulling her forward. He continued to use her mouth. After a time, he pulled her up, and began making out with her again, running his hands up and down her body, reaching up the front of her skirt and teasing her by rubbing the front of her lace panties. His right hand reached down and cupped her young tight ass, pulling her in, feeling her up. Was this cheating? Of course it was, but she couldn't help herself. Something had changed inside of her, and she couldn't resist Vincent's animal magnetism.

"Stand up, come with me."

She followed him through the sliding glass doors, out onto the large balcony. The view was breathtaking from here, up on the 20th floor, with the city lights all laid out below in some sparkling tapestry.

"Put your hands on the railing and hike your skirt up for me"

With a slight whimper she obeyed. The night was still chill and it cut to her to the quick. He reached into the band of her panties and yanked them down, leaving her exposed. His hands cupped her buttocks and appraised them like ripe fruit. He spread her legs and began teasing her pussy lips with his hard shaft. She couldn't believe she was doing this. 

"You like that?" he teased

"O...Oh yes....Oh...Oh yesss...."

"You want that? You want this in you? You want this in your little tight cunt? You want your boss's cock in your little tight cunt?"

"Oh....Oh yes...Yes..."

"Say please..."

"Please...."

"Please what? "

"Please put it in...In..."

"In your cunt, say cunt..Say please put it in my tight cunt."

"Please...Please put it in my tight cunt..."

He surged forward, past the barrier of her pussy lips, again with no condom. She rocked forward, taking his weight. She gasped as he slammed into her and kept slamming. She gripped the railing, staring off into the depths, her mind and body swimming with pleasure. She swooned at the height and her mouth gasped.

He held her firmly with both hands up around where her dress was hiked, her legs forming an arch, his cock entering her at the apex, pounding in and out of her tight young defenseless pussy. She ached for him to go deeper as groans began issuing from her pretty mouth. She started backing up, bucking into him, trying to take ever more in as his balls slapped against the back of her tight young ass. His cock was buried deep inside her warm fertile young cunt, seeking out all her secret places. 

"Oh..Oh....Ohhhhh...." she cried out. Anyone looking from one of the many adjacent buildings could see them, could see her being dominated and taken by her older boss.

His dick kept on bumping up against her insides. She could barely take all of him, and yet, just when she thought it was too much, she relaxed, and took him in even deeper. She clenched him at the end of every thrust, gripping and holding him in. 

He reached around front and began fingering her clit as his cock dove in and out. Then, without a word, he spit on his hand, and began fingering and playing with her asshole. He got his finger partway in, and began massaging. He started stroking her hair, whispering to her, kissing the side of her face. He pulled his cock from her pussy and began rubbing it against her ever loosening asshole. He started working it in slowly. 

She had never let Phil fuck her in the ass, but somehow with Vincent it felt right. She was even hungering for it. He managed to get it in partway, then all the way. She loosened and relaxed even more. She felt so dirty, yet so aroused, knowing that she, the sweet prim arts school student, good daughter and good girlfriend, who loved landscape watercolors, was now being fucked in the ass, over a balcony, by her boss.

She felt out of control. Out of character, she began insisting on him to fuck her harder, to take her more fully. He started slapping her ass, spanking her as he rammed in and out of her. She couldn't help herself, and started working her own clit with one of her hands, keeping the other one firmly on the railing. She could feel herself building to orgasm as she furiously worked her pussy. She started gibbering, making incomprehensible sounds. He grasped her hair like the reins of some animal.  

She came in an explosion of stardust and fireworks. She could feel his hot lava spewing into her, filling her insides. She took as much of it in as she could. He slowed his rhythm, now stroking her hair again. Now whispering soothing and gentle words. 

He walked her back inside, to the opulent washroom, all marble and custom fixtures. He undressed her and led her to the shower, where he proceeded to lather and wash every inch of her. She was exhausted.

After toweling her off,  He picked her up he carried her to his bedroom and lay her down to sleep, wrapped in his strong arms. 

**

She woke the next morning to the sound of birds outside. She looked out through the window, and saw that Vincent had installed feeders on the bedroom balcony. 

He walked into the room dressed in a plush white initialed bathrobe. 

"Up are we? Sleep well?"

She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

"Hungry?"

Was she? She was famished.

She normally ate so little in the morning; coffee and a grapefruit. He brought her sausages and bacon and eggs and toast. Somehow she ravenously devoured it all.

"We have some errands to run today. You'll have to come with me."

"But, who's going to be taking care of the gallery?"

"Don't worry, Alex has it covered."

*

He drove them downtown, and they spent the day shopping, in and out of stores. He picked out numerous outfits for her. Some classy, some slutty. And it was the same for the lingerie he chose. Some classy, some slutty. They had lunch at an upscale cafe on a balcony overlooking a park, where tourists, families and office workers took their leisure. 

"So, have you considered where you want you career in art to lead you?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about being an artist, but it seems really hard. And a lot of artists seem to not make very much money unless they really hit it big. I think I'd like to keep my art more as a hobby."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of what you're doing; being an art dealer."
 
"Well, it's not easy, you have to make certain sacrifices."

"I'm ready to do whatever it takes..."

"Oh really? Whatever it takes?" he said with a gentle smirk.

"Absolutely."

He looked out the city sky line. 

"Are you okay with what happened last night?"

"It was certainly out of character for me." Here she instinctively reached in her pocket and fingered the Rune Stone, as she had taken to calling it. 

"How so?"

"Well, I have a boyfriend, and I'm not usually that...Free?"

"Hmm. Well, people change all the time. Maybe that was the real you that was there all along." He took a bite of his calamari. "And maybe there's even more of that in you. Did you enjoy it?"

She paused for a moment, "I loved it."

"Well...I want you to come to a special event tonight. Wear the short black dress and heels. And the red lace bra and panties, and matching thigh highs. There's some people I want you to meet."

She didn't know what to say to this, the way he said 'meet' sent a tingle to her pussy. She remembered that she had a date planned with Phillip, her sweet boyfriend. 

"I uhm, I have a date with my boyfriend tonight..."

"Hmmm."

She looked down.

"That's alright, it's fine, why don't you bring him?"

"Bring him?"

"Sure. You want him to be a part of your success, don't you?"

"Well..."

"And you love him, right? Of course you want him to be a part of the success you're making."

"Okay..." she stuttered, a bit confused.

He took her chin in his hand and lifted it up.

"Look Kylie, things will be alright, things are fine. I'm sure he'll have a great time. Be there around seven."

*

She was terribly nervous. She'd had a chance to talk to Phillip that day. To remind him of how important this was to her,and to go along with whatever happened that night. She both hoped that nothing would,and that everything would. 

They took a cab to the address Vincent had given her. It was a large faux neo Gothic building, complete with a ironwork portcullis gate and swooping stonework arches on it's sides. 

She paid the driver and walked to the front door, beside the gate. She was buzzed in and they walked through a concierge's office, who then directed them to an outdoor courtyard. The center of the building had been hollowed out, to form a space of shadows and fountain with elegantly potted gardens throughout. Across the open space there was a set of elevators which the concierge had told her about. 

Taking Phillip's hand, she strolled past the fountain, called the elevator, and once inside signaled it to take them to the seventeenth floor. One of the penthouses. 

They stepped out of the elevator into a sterile reception area, marked only by a surveillance camera and a set of double doors.

They opened outward, revealing Vincent, with a devilish grin on his face. He took Kylie's hand and kissed it. 

"And this must be Phillip," he said, turning to Phil and shaking his hand, "I've heard so many good things about you."

He led them inside, closing the doors behind them. This space was even more massive than Vincent's. It was like they'd imported some fairy tale castle to the city. Filigreed patterns of pressed tin reflected the light and shadows. The walls were paneled wood. 

R&B was playing in the background, and he led them down a hallways, into a vast open room full of well dressed men, women, and couples. 

He took her over to the open bar, overflowing with wine and various bottles of liquor, and asked the bartender for three  glasses of red wine. He gave one to Kylie and one to Phillip, with a reminder to them to help themselves, but not to get too drunk. 

"Unless of course you want to," he said with a wink. "En Vino Veritas and all that...People here are pretty open minded..."

He then started working the room, introducing her as his assistant to various people. This one was a stock broker who was also buying for his companies corporate collection, this couple had made millions in bio tech and was interested in work for their East coast mansion. This one was a writer, this one was an artist. It wasn't all rich types, which put Kylie a bit more at ease.  

It was a repeat of the opening of the previous night, although on a more intimate scale, and she even recognized a few people from the previous evening. 

The night passed swiftly in a round of drinks and glamour, with her taking the time to flatter, listen to, and even subtly flirt with some of the clients and possible clients. She hoped that Phillip didn't notice. If he did, he didn't say anything. They kept together for some of the evening, but they parted at times. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and more than once she saw Vincent chatting closely with him, filling Phillip's drink, and Phillip nodding and laughing. Phillip loved to be thought of as sophisticated. Perhaps some of Vincent's would rub off on him?

Around ten, she noticed that most of the guests had slipped away. There was only a core group left of couples and a few singles, most of which had moved themselves to one of the many couches or chairs in the expansive living room.

Vincent sidled up to her and whispered in her ear, "How far did you say you were willing to go?"

Kylie instinctively blushed, and then became emboldened, "As far as I need to."

"Well," he cooed in her ear, "Now here's your chance. These are some of my closest associates and clients, and they can make or break your career.."

Vincent removed his tie, and wrapped it carefully around her eyes, obscuring her vision.

 Kylie noticed the room had gotten very quiet. He unzipped the back of her dress, pulled her arms out, and pulled it down around her ankles, assisting her in stepping out of it.

Kylie couldn't believe what was happening. She was now dressed only in her red lace panties and bra, with matching thigh highs, in the middle of a room full of strangers. She was shocked and felt like she wanted to hide, so embarrassed was she, but she was even more embarrassed at how intensely turned on she was. She felt like everyone was staring at her. What was worse, she seemed to love the feeling.

"Well..you've all met my assistant. Now, perhaps you'd all like to get to know her in a more...intimate fashion..."

Vincent's hands were all over her, running up and down the sides of her body, caressing her ass, gripping the strings of her red lace thong, tugging the front of them up so they cleaved to the front of her pussy, separating the lips in a slutty camel toe.

Standing behind her, and pressing his trouser clad erection up against her ass, he reached his arms around to the front of her, and squeezed her breasts tightly, framing them in his hands, displaying them to the room. His fingers entwined her nipples, bringing a flush to her breasts as her nipples ripened into perfect raspberries. 

Unseen by her, the onlookers took the vision of her in hungrily, drinking in her hot nubile body. They kept sipping their wine and drinks, eagerly anticipating what was to come next. 

Vincent began kissing the back of her neck, bunching her hair together in his fingers to make a knot and then pulled back, angling her face to the ceiling. He was kissing her shoulders, her back. He would pull her bra strap out and let it snap back, leaving a slight mark. She felt totally exposed. She heard people approaching her. Suddenly, she felt many hands all over her body. She felt her bra being undone and her panties being pulled down, to expose her naked pussy.

They were rubbing some kind of oil on her, preparing her; working it into her skin, her shoulders, her ass cheeks. Hands moved down her thighs, just grazing her cunt, working up and down, slowly moving inward, then backing off. She felt a face in front of her crotch, felt two hands grabbing the side of her waist, what felt like a woman's hands, and then a tongue sliding into her pussy.  She moaned and tried to reach forward, but Vincent quickly restrained her hands and held them behind her back.

"Sylvia always dives in first," she heard someone laughingly comment. She'd met Sylvia earlier in the evening. A late thirties trophy wife in a skin tight, metallic white gown with a slit up the side. A salacious moan issued from the woman who as now eagerly lapped at her pussy. Kylie felt her pussy lips being teased apart and a tongue flicking up and down the sides. A finger now found it's way in and began plumbing the depths of her insides.

Other hands were stroking her tits. Someone started to suck on one of them, flicking the nipple with their tongue, and then inhaling her perky boob into their mouth. She heard men unzipping their flies and felt erections being pressed up against her. She couldn't believe what was happening. All of these powerful and wealthy and interesting people, crowding in around her defenseless, nearly naked body. Lust swelled in her as juice flooded her pussy. She felt cocks on all sides of her, and other women's boobs being pressed into her. Vincent released her hands and guided them to the bodies crowding around her. She felt tits and cocks all around her. She began to stroke and grope. Was this really her? 

The blindfold was removed. She was surrounded by a group of one woman and three men, including Vincent. There was Brad, Carl, Sylvia; they were in various states of undress, although all of the men had undone their pants and had their hard cocks out, stroking them. The woman, Sylvia, was on her knees, gorging herself on Kylie's pussy. 

Kylie was becoming overcome. She had initially gone along with this because she wanted to get ahead, or at least that was what she had told herself, but now she felt herself totally given over to lust, to being these people's fucktoy.

On either side of her, she was jerking men off, while the second woman passionately made out with her, exploring her tongue with her mouth, rubbing her breasts into Kylie's. Brad knelt down and started kissing and stroking her ass. 

Phil couldn't believe what he was seeing. He knew he didn't want to screw up Kylie's chances, but what was he supposed to do? Vincent had kept on letting him know how important this night was for Kylie; how important it was to be supportive and to be open minded, but he had never expected anything like this.

The most uncomfortable part was the raging erection in his pants. Seeing his sweet little girlfriend being used like a complete whore and seeing how much she seemed to love it had filled him with both dread and intense arousal.

The people sitting beside him on the couch weren't helping. On both sides of him couples were playing with themselves, the women reaching up their skirts and fingering themselves through their panties, the men in their suits with their cocks out.

To his left was Devon and his wife. Devon, the patent lawyer he'd met earlier, noticed his discomfort. He whispered something to Chelsea, his twenty-something sunspot freckled, redheaded wife. Chelsea has a slender figure, five-foot-ten, dressed in a stunning form fitting black gown that showed off her ample cleavage though a mesh opening in the front. She had said gown hiked up and was reaching through her embroidered ivory lace thong in order to better punish her engorged pussy. She giggled and looked slyly over at young Devon.

"Do you like the show?" she said, glancing first over at the site of Kylie, being ravaged.

He looked at her uncertainly, wasn't he supposed to say he thought it was awful? That he felt humiliated? How was this allowed? That he couldn't believe this was happening, and the considerable drinks he'd had made it even harder for him to know what he felt? That he didn't understand how unbelievable turned on he was? Was she talking about herself?

"Or maybe the show down here?" she spread her legs wider and momentarily threw her head back in a gasp as she worked her fingers deep into her clit, looking down and into his eyes while making her mouth into a dramatic and campy, "Oh". 

"Do you like it Phillip?" Devon asked. Phillip didn't know what to say, he felt so in over his head. Chelsea's gorgeous body, right next to  him, her pussy exposed, added further fuel to the blood shooting to his erection, however much he tried to reduce his discomfort by shifting his body and hiding it.

"Oh, I think he likes it, Dev," Chelsea laughed. Flicking her eyes from her soaking pussy, to Phillip, and down to his crotch. Her fuck-me eyes assaulted him with their heat. She glanced over at Kylie, now moaning and on her knees, switching between Vincent's and another man's cock. "Kylie certainly seems to be liking it..."

"It's okay, Phil," Devon said, nonchalantly. "You're allowed to like it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I know it's weird at first..." He started rubbing Chelsea's back, and then unzipped the back of her gown. Her lace clad tits presented themselves to Phil and the room. Phil had only been with Kylie, and against his better morals he longed to suck and play with them. His boner throbbed inside his jeans.

"Mmm," said Devon. "What have we here?"  Devon smiled at Phillip and  buried his tongue in her cleavage, gripping the sides. 

"Mmm, indeed," said Chelsea. "Oh, look, they're coming out..."

Devon had unclasped her bra, and her full milky white tits popped out like small ripe cantaloupes. Phil couldn't believe what he was seeing. Devon started massaging and rubbing them together.

"Would you like to have a feel? Or a taste?" he said to Phillip.

Devon looked over to see his sweet girlfriend, Kylie, on her knees, gorging on cock. One of the wives was pushing the back of her head, telling her to take it deeper. 

I'm drunk, he told himself, this is okay. He tentatively reached over, began feeling the ripe hot flesh. 

"Isn't that nice?"

"Yes..." said Phillip, hesitantly.

"But again, you want a taste now, don't you?"

Chelsea squeezed her breasts together, offering them up as one would a cheese plate. 

He leaned in and hungrily took one of Chelsea offered tits in his mouth, feeling her nipple flick around. He ran his tongue over and around, sucking deeply. 

Chelsea moaned. He noticed Devon was sucking on the other breast and helping Chelsea with her pussy. Unexpectedly, he felt Chelsea's hand on the front of his crotch. He felt her unzipping him and releasing his throbbing cock.

Chelsea got down on her knees and took his engorged rod in her mouth, taking it all the way in. He saw that Devon has his cock out too and was furiously pumping away, watching his beloved wife blow young Phillip, like he had never been blown before.

"Nice, isn't it? I looove watching Chelsea suck cock..Hike your skirt up Chelsea, let Phillip see your ass..."

Chelsea did as she was told. Phillip lay back and let her go wild on his cock, licking the balls, the shaft and then taking it in all the way to the back of her throat.

Beside him, Devon continued to stroke himself. Across the room, Kylie was getting smacked in the face by one of the men's cocks as she writhed in a kind of ecstasy. He then grabbed her face and began pumping away, using her pretty lips, the lips he had lovingly kissed so many times, as a hot pussy.

"Mmmm," said Devon, "Do you like that, Chelsea love?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

"Well, I certainly like watching it...Do you like it, Phil? Do you like my wife sucking your hot young cock?"

"Ye...Yes..." Phil sputtered out...

"And really, Phil, isn't it hot watching Kylie be a little slut? In your heart, haven't you always wished you could see her like this? Think of all the great tricks she learning...and isn't it hot watching her?"

Kylie was on her knees, her french braid long undone. They were making her into a total whore. She was blowing one man and jerking off another, nothing on now but her red thigh highs. She was being a true slut.

"Yeeee...Yes," Phillip admitted. In fact, it drove his lust into overdrive, filling the base of his neck with white hot heat, seeing his princess on her knees; being used, taking a group of men's cocks, and having her love it. 

Vincent stood over all, presiding. He too would join in from time to time in pushing on the back of her head, or grabbing her hair and switching her to another man's cock.

"That's right, that's right my little protege. Suck all those cocks for me. You know Brad, wasn't Kylie showing you that Wallis Peters painting? I think she should get the commission on that..."

Vincent looked up seriously, zeroing in on Phillip. He gave him a stern and serious look, yet one strangely full of kindness and understanding. As if Phillip was now a man in his eyes. 

Kylie hearing that she had just made a cool six-thousand-dollar commission, from the man whose cock was at present plunging in and out of her mouth, made her love it all the more. She couldn't get enough cock in her. 

A slight twinge of guilt struck her. In her lust she had forgotten all about Phil! She glanced over.

She looked over and saw him splayed back on the couch, with Chelsea on her knees, blowing him while Chelsea's husband looked on. She could see the surprise, but also the deep lust in his eyes at seeing her in this position. 

The site of Phil being blown by Devon's wife, both shocked and reassured her. It turned on her on to see Phil with another woman and to know he was watching her. It also assuaged the guilt she had, giving her full license to be the slut she wanted to be. She renewed her efforts on Brad's cock, gripping his ass cheeks from behind to pull him forward into her mouth. She could feel him banging against the back of her throat. Sylvia reached over and began pushing her head forward, to help her to get as much cock in her mouth as possible. 

She was now being pulled onto the ground, onto all fours. Her underwear was pulled down and she presented her ass for the pleasure of the assembled cohort. Vincent was the first to begin. He stooped down to his knees and started teasing her pussy from behind with his prick. Her body hungrily responded, her pussy lips gushing with anticipation. He surged forward, plunging deeply into her cunt, gripping her ass cheeks as he plowed away. The room looked on. Sylvia got down on the floor as well and began kissing her, playing with her nipples, caressing and twisting them. Kylie would back her hips up with every thrust, to take as much of Vincent in as she could. 

With his cock still in her, he pulled her onto her knees, his hand gripped her tits and he pulled back on her hair, using it as one might guide the reins of a thoroughbred horse. 

Kylie was pounded senseless, her mind flooded with lust. Now Carl was standing in front of her, knees slightly bent, offering his cock. She eagerly took it into her mouth, letting him fuck her pretty face while her hair flew in all directions. 

Vincent rolled her onto her back, spreading her legs and hammering away at her pussy while the others knelt down and began kissing, sucking, and licking away at her from all sides. Sylvia squatted over her and Kylie hungrily lapped at her pussy while Vincent continued to fuck her.

Now, Vincent was making room for Brad, who took his turn humping in and out of her, using her like a fucktoy, plunging his cock in and out of her tight pussy. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me!" she heard herself crying out. She reached down to the grip the her calves, in order to spread her legs as wide as they could go, to take as much of Brad in as she could. Vincent looked down on her with approval as he stroked his cock, and she noticed Phil was craning his neck to get a look at the action, licking his lips as his little princess became a wild animal. Chelsea continued to bob her head between his legs.

"Yeah? Yeah? You like that? You like being our little whore?"

"Yes! Yes! Use me like a little fucking whore..." Vincent knelt and grabbed her face, smacking her with his cock, rubbing it across her cheeks. Her tongue flicked out to capture every trace of pre cum. 

"Yeah...Yeah...That take cock...Take all our cocks..."

With a roar Brad unloaded his hot come into her fertile young cunt and was quickly replaced by Carl. He held his cock at an angle to her pussy lips, teasing her, and then slowly eased into her now gaping pussy. He then started pumping away, fucking her like the whore she now was. Every fiber of her being was on fire with the desire for sex, to be fucked, to be used. Now Brad was in her mouth. It felt so amazing, to have a cock in her mouth and a cock in her pussy, while an entire room full of people and her boyfriend, were captivated by her lust. 

Vincent knelt down, and she began trading off Carl's cock and Vincent's, sometimes licking the length of them, sometimes deep throating them, taking them deeply into her, gagging on them. 

"Do you want my cum? Do you want it?" Brad asked her.

"Yes! Yes! Give me that cum!"

Brad eagerly granted her request, shooting volumes of his jizz deep within her. 

Now Vincent returned to his spot and began fucking her. Each thrust affirmed his position as dominant in the group. 

Afterwards, they all kissed her, gently stroked her, congratulated her. The assembly began to file out. Soon there was only Vincent, Phillip, and Kylie left. Even the bartender had left. Vincent got them all double Scotches as they sat on the couches.  

He first addressed Phillip.

"Well, you handled that like a champ young man! Here's to you." He clinked Phillip's glass. "And there's nothing to be ashamed of. You're not any less of a man. And you certainly loved being a man for Devon...She seemed to like it too. This was something private between friends and I can assure you, none of the people here will be talking about what happened."

"And you," he said, turning to Kylie with a smile, "You made over thirty-five-thousand dollars tonight. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT think of yourself as a prostitute. This was genuinely your commission for your work at the gallery. Not that there's anything wrong with sex work...sometimes I think it's one of the only honest trades...this was just a little initiation. You won't be called upon to repeat it. Unless of course, you want to. And if Phillip is okay with it of course." Here, he turned to Phillip in a kind of open confidence. 

"Shall we have a toast?" he said, raising his glass. They all joined him.

"To new friendships!"