Miss Simons and the School Inspector
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The Beauty Inspector free porn video
The door to the club opens and Mr. Glass walks in, tall, good-looking; trench coat damp from rain. Amber's running her third set on the main stage behind me while Kat works the side stage. The music is loud, heavy with beat.
I watch him stroll across the floor to the manager' office as my customer plays with my ass. We're not supposed to let them touch us like this but hard times have made us desperate. Management looks the other way as much as they can. Mr. Craven gets word that the man has arrived and opens to greet him. They shake hands then disappear behind a closed door. My customer pulls my G-string open to look at my pussy. I turn back to him.
"Look but don't touch, sir," I say in a little girl voice I use for the bar.
He grins up at me like a naughty child.
"I hope you don't mind a little fur. I trim it but I don't shave like some of the girls."
"I don't mind," he says, lust dripping from his voice.
Good. They're more suggestible when they're horny. "It's the cutest little kitty I've seen. Makes me want to stroke it."
I flash him a pretty schoolgirl smile then bend towards him, allowing my full-sized C-cups to mash into his face. Placing my arms around his neck I pull his ear to my lips and whisper, "I bet you'd really like to see my pussy up close, spread open all nice and wide for you. You'd like that, right, sir?"
I can feel his breathing grow heavier as he contemplates the possibilities. His voice is muffled as he speaks from somewhere between my boobies.
"Yeah, I'd really like that."
I have him.
"Good," I coo. "Then why don't we go in the back where I can do a lapdance for you and give you what you want."
I make that last part sound as dirty as I possibly can. Coming from a girl who looks more like a sweet cheerleader than a stripper this really turns the guys on. He's hyperventilating now.
"Okay."
Just as I lead him back towards the VIP room one of the bouncers signals me over.
I sit the customer comfortably on one of the couches, ask him to wait for me, then walk back.
"It's time," says the Gorilla.
"Already!?" I exclaim. "He just got here! Let him see the other girls first."
"Hey!" he admonishes. "He asked for you, Cherry. Just because you're one of our top girls that doesn't mean you can live by a different set of rules. It's your turn. That's all I know."
There's no use in arguing, he's just delivering a message, so I steel myself and pad back to the manager's office.
Ever since a well-known chain of gentleman's clubs took over our little titty bar last year the dancers have been required to participate in an annual inspection to ensure that we "meet the high standards of physical beauty expected of our employees." It's bullshit but every job has its problems. The house fee's about the same as before and the club still takes 10% of our tips but the brand draws in a wealthier clientele. At first it rained so hard I brought in up to $2,000 a week. A girl can put up with a lot of bullshit for that kind of money. Unfortunately, with two new clubs opening up nearby in the past three months the rain slowed to a drizzle. I knock on Mr. Craven's door.
"Mr. Craven, sir? It's Dana. You want to see me?"
The door opens and Mr. Craven flashes a smile. He looks funny that way because he's missing a few teeth and all of his hair but he wants to impress just like the rest of us. I beam at him in the sunshiny American teen queen way that I've perfected and give the poor guy an obvious hard-on.
"Come in, Cherry," he says stiffly trying to hide his attraction. I grin and bounce past like a perky girl scout here to discuss cookie sales. His eyes follow my boobs as I slip by. Men are fun to tease.
"We were just talking about you. Mr. Glass and I, that is. You remember Mr. Glass, don't you?"
Standing tall and silent in the middle of the room is William Glass, the most self-contained human being I have ever known. At 6' 5" high he towers over my 5' 3" frame but seems no wider. He's a rod of steel, or a plate of glass like his name, but either way he is impervious to outside influence.
"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Glass," I bubble, extending my hand. He does not take it.
"Yes," he replies. Silence. I look to Mr. Craven. He shrugs his shoulders. Then, "Dana Brooks. You go by the dancer name, "Cherry Delight," I believe. Is that not correct?"
"That is correct, sir," I reply, unwittingly imitating his formal style of speech.
"Then for the purpose of this inspection that is what I will call you. Is that alright with you?"
"Um, I guess. Yeah, sure." He's a very handsome man with deep blue eyes, wavy salt-and-pepper hair, finely chiseled features and an athletic build, but he gets weirder every time I meet him.
"Excellent. Then we'll get started. Take your top off and approach me."
I'm wearing my favorite "good girl" outfit today, a black halter top and short pinstripe skirt that appear to be cut from a school uniform, so I pull at the tie between my tits and let them fall free. I love my tits, firm, full, bouncy, and shaped like teardrops. They're so soft that I like to play with them when in the bath or while reading in bed late at night. My nipples are sensitive; I can bring myself to orgasm just by tweaking them in the right way.
I gaze meaningfully into Mr. Glass' eyes and make a show of my swaying, undulating boobs. He seems unmoved. Mr. Craven, however, is ready to cum in his pants.
"This is part of your act, Cherry," the tall man says.
"Pardon me, sir?"
"You trade off of your youthful appearance, presenting yourself as a naive high-school girl."
"I used to be like that, sir, the pretty, popular girl, the "nice" girl."
"What happened?"
I stand as close to him as I can and still see his face. It's like standing in front of a tree.
"I like to fuck!" Nothing. No expression. I sigh. "I like sex, sir. College opened me up to a whole new world. Now I experiment with all kinds of guys, all ages. Girls, too. I can't get enough."
"And your decision to become an exotic dancer?"
"Money, originally. College is expensive. My parents can only help with part of it. A girlfriend who strips got me into it two years ago, back when I was a freshman. I couldn't believe how much cash I could make just by taking my clothes off and flashing my girly parts." I ply one of my cutest girl-next-door grins on the man only to have it fall to the earth, dead. How can I get through to this stone wall?
"You said 'originally.' You have a second motivation now?"
"I like dancing naked. It makes me wet. Sometimes my pussy drips so much after a hot show that it puddles on the stage. The other girls call me 'Juicy Fruit.'" He laughs. Craven excuses himself.
Without responding, Mr. Glass shifts his impassive gaze to my tits and takes them into his cold hands. I shiver but he seems not to notice. Holding them gently, he caresses the surface of each with two fingers and then strokes my nipples until they stand out hard. I feel a tingle between my thighs. He's the first man to get it right. I press into him. Suddenly he squeezes them hard, real hard, and gives them each a savage twist. I yelp and almost fall to my knees but he lets them go. I feel like crying. Almost.
"34C," he says flatly like he's reading it off a sheet. "Almost a D-Cup. Good quality, soft, pliant. No implants. Modest pain threshold." He gives them a mild slap to watch them jiggle then slaps them again from the other direction. "Springy, good bounce-back. They remain high, no sagging. Turn around."
Almost instantly I obey. I'm not sure what made me do that. He lifts my skirt and pulls my thong to the floor then places a firm hand on my shoulder blades and bends me down 45 degrees. Without thinking I step out of the thong and spread my legs.
He grips my rounded ass cheeks and massages them as though kneading bread dough then spanks them, first from the left then from the right, several times until the stinging pain reverberates like a bell. I am crying now but notice that my honey is drooling out of the sides of my cunt. Mr. Glass notices, too. He spreads my twat open wide, wider.
"You like pain, Cherry, when properly applied to your very attractive buttocks. Your pussy lubricates with great speed making it ready to accept a man's cock in only a few minutes."
Before I can reply he inserts two fingers up my slit and begins to finger-fuck me. His other hand reaches under to fondle my tits and pinch my nipples. Despite my embarrassment at being handled this way by a man I barely know, my body bursts with pleasure, forcing gasping breaths from my mouth. "Contrary to your initial attempts to elicit a reaction you actually enjoy being manipulated for a man's pleasure. You believe that you hold the power when you dance for a customer but in fact you surrender your power to be used as a sexual object. You are a natural submissive, Cherry. Am I right on this?"
"Y-yes, sir," I breathe. The tremors fanning out through my flesh make it difficult to stand.
"Bend over farther and place your hands on Mr. Craven's desk."
As I do so, I hear him unzip his fly and drop his pants to the floor. He stretches at the sides of my cunt, fingers then stretches, fingers then stretches, loosening the perinea and gaping my hole. In all of my sexual experimentation I have never been so well-used by a man.
"I enjoy a tight pussy like most men but the process of opening it up for close inspection has its own delights. Your labia are really quite artfully presented and the interior is of a vivid pink color that stimulates the senses. I'm going to fuck you now."
He slides his meaty cock into my slippery chute along with a pair of fingers that he also uses to caress my clit. Before Mr. Glass stretched my pussy out I didn't think myself capable of taking that much girth. He doesn't ram his tool into me like most guys but takes the time to explore the sensitive areas of my vaginal walls. It's almost calming, until he sticks a finger in my asshole. I want to come right there. I've tried anal sex a couple of times but never really found a guy who was good at it.
"You do have a snug pussy, Cherry, even after my work and I can tell that your asshole is even tighter. You're a very pleasant fuck, one that men would pay a lot of money for. Use your PC muscles, the ones that surround your cunt, to clutch at my cock then release, clutch then release. That's it. Keep doing that. Milk my cock. It increases my sensation and improves your quality as a piece of ass."
The more he speaks of me as if I'm some kind of whore the hotter I get. He keeps working my asshole and my snatch with his fingers as his thrusts increase in speed and depth. The slap of his hips against my flesh, the liquid pop and squish of a dick sliding in and out of a sopping wet beaver, my own scent and the scent of his musky cologne, all mingle with the heat of the room to make me dizzy. As he pounds my pussy I hear a door open and Mr. Craven walk in.
"Holy shit!" he exclaims. "What are you doing to to her?"
"It's your turn, Mr. Craven."
"What!?"
"Your turn to fuck her. Hurry, while she's still drenched. That's a direct order from corporate."
Mr. Craven grumbles and coughs but stations himself behind me and drops his pants.
"I'm sorry, Dana." he whispers.
"It's okay, sir," I console him.
With that he inserts his short stubby dick into my twat and proceeds to ram me, hard. He is much less elegant than Mr. Glass has been, and less skillful, but I am so hot it doesn't matter. Within minutes of his drumming pace I feel my body quake with ecstasy as the orgasm rips through my body and shakes me to the core. Mr. Craven shoots off his load at the same time and pours his hot, white cum into my shivering slit. It pours from his dick, stream after stream, forcing its way up my passage and spilling back out again. I feel the drip of cum and pussy juice coat my legs. He removes his cock.
"Aren't you going to cum in me, too, Mr. Glass?" I ask. He smiles.
"We have time. There's still that lovely asshole to explore. My reason for using you in this manner is that corporate has a proposition for you. We've expanded recently into .. other services .. ones that wealthy men are willing to pay a great deal of money for. You been selected as one of our first employees in this new venture, one that will net you an average of $50,000 per month. It will be safe, well-screened, and only with gentlemen of finer quality. The inspection today was to find out if you're made of the right material for the job. I'm happy to say that you are. Does this interest you?"
I gaze at him, still weary from the drilling. It doesn't take much energy or thought, however.
"Sure. Yeah. I'd love to do that." He grins broadly and moves behind me once again.
"Excellent," he says. "I had expected that from you." He spreads my butt and begins fingering my sphincter, stretching it as he does so. "Now let's investigate the quality of some of your other assets."
I watch him stroll across the floor to the manager' office as my customer plays with my ass. We're not supposed to let them touch us like this but hard times have made us desperate. Management looks the other way as much as they can. Mr. Craven gets word that the man has arrived and opens to greet him. They shake hands then disappear behind a closed door. My customer pulls my G-string open to look at my pussy. I turn back to him.
"Look but don't touch, sir," I say in a little girl voice I use for the bar.
He grins up at me like a naughty child.
"I hope you don't mind a little fur. I trim it but I don't shave like some of the girls."
"I don't mind," he says, lust dripping from his voice.
Good. They're more suggestible when they're horny. "It's the cutest little kitty I've seen. Makes me want to stroke it."
I flash him a pretty schoolgirl smile then bend towards him, allowing my full-sized C-cups to mash into his face. Placing my arms around his neck I pull his ear to my lips and whisper, "I bet you'd really like to see my pussy up close, spread open all nice and wide for you. You'd like that, right, sir?"
I can feel his breathing grow heavier as he contemplates the possibilities. His voice is muffled as he speaks from somewhere between my boobies.
"Yeah, I'd really like that."
I have him.
"Good," I coo. "Then why don't we go in the back where I can do a lapdance for you and give you what you want."
I make that last part sound as dirty as I possibly can. Coming from a girl who looks more like a sweet cheerleader than a stripper this really turns the guys on. He's hyperventilating now.
"Okay."
Just as I lead him back towards the VIP room one of the bouncers signals me over.
I sit the customer comfortably on one of the couches, ask him to wait for me, then walk back.
"It's time," says the Gorilla.
"Already!?" I exclaim. "He just got here! Let him see the other girls first."
"Hey!" he admonishes. "He asked for you, Cherry. Just because you're one of our top girls that doesn't mean you can live by a different set of rules. It's your turn. That's all I know."
There's no use in arguing, he's just delivering a message, so I steel myself and pad back to the manager's office.
Ever since a well-known chain of gentleman's clubs took over our little titty bar last year the dancers have been required to participate in an annual inspection to ensure that we "meet the high standards of physical beauty expected of our employees." It's bullshit but every job has its problems. The house fee's about the same as before and the club still takes 10% of our tips but the brand draws in a wealthier clientele. At first it rained so hard I brought in up to $2,000 a week. A girl can put up with a lot of bullshit for that kind of money. Unfortunately, with two new clubs opening up nearby in the past three months the rain slowed to a drizzle. I knock on Mr. Craven's door.
"Mr. Craven, sir? It's Dana. You want to see me?"
The door opens and Mr. Craven flashes a smile. He looks funny that way because he's missing a few teeth and all of his hair but he wants to impress just like the rest of us. I beam at him in the sunshiny American teen queen way that I've perfected and give the poor guy an obvious hard-on.
"Come in, Cherry," he says stiffly trying to hide his attraction. I grin and bounce past like a perky girl scout here to discuss cookie sales. His eyes follow my boobs as I slip by. Men are fun to tease.
"We were just talking about you. Mr. Glass and I, that is. You remember Mr. Glass, don't you?"
Standing tall and silent in the middle of the room is William Glass, the most self-contained human being I have ever known. At 6' 5" high he towers over my 5' 3" frame but seems no wider. He's a rod of steel, or a plate of glass like his name, but either way he is impervious to outside influence.
"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Glass," I bubble, extending my hand. He does not take it.
"Yes," he replies. Silence. I look to Mr. Craven. He shrugs his shoulders. Then, "Dana Brooks. You go by the dancer name, "Cherry Delight," I believe. Is that not correct?"
"That is correct, sir," I reply, unwittingly imitating his formal style of speech.
"Then for the purpose of this inspection that is what I will call you. Is that alright with you?"
"Um, I guess. Yeah, sure." He's a very handsome man with deep blue eyes, wavy salt-and-pepper hair, finely chiseled features and an athletic build, but he gets weirder every time I meet him.
"Excellent. Then we'll get started. Take your top off and approach me."
I'm wearing my favorite "good girl" outfit today, a black halter top and short pinstripe skirt that appear to be cut from a school uniform, so I pull at the tie between my tits and let them fall free. I love my tits, firm, full, bouncy, and shaped like teardrops. They're so soft that I like to play with them when in the bath or while reading in bed late at night. My nipples are sensitive; I can bring myself to orgasm just by tweaking them in the right way.
I gaze meaningfully into Mr. Glass' eyes and make a show of my swaying, undulating boobs. He seems unmoved. Mr. Craven, however, is ready to cum in his pants.
"This is part of your act, Cherry," the tall man says.
"Pardon me, sir?"
"You trade off of your youthful appearance, presenting yourself as a naive high-school girl."
"I used to be like that, sir, the pretty, popular girl, the "nice" girl."
"What happened?"
I stand as close to him as I can and still see his face. It's like standing in front of a tree.
"I like to fuck!" Nothing. No expression. I sigh. "I like sex, sir. College opened me up to a whole new world. Now I experiment with all kinds of guys, all ages. Girls, too. I can't get enough."
"And your decision to become an exotic dancer?"
"Money, originally. College is expensive. My parents can only help with part of it. A girlfriend who strips got me into it two years ago, back when I was a freshman. I couldn't believe how much cash I could make just by taking my clothes off and flashing my girly parts." I ply one of my cutest girl-next-door grins on the man only to have it fall to the earth, dead. How can I get through to this stone wall?
"You said 'originally.' You have a second motivation now?"
"I like dancing naked. It makes me wet. Sometimes my pussy drips so much after a hot show that it puddles on the stage. The other girls call me 'Juicy Fruit.'" He laughs. Craven excuses himself.
Without responding, Mr. Glass shifts his impassive gaze to my tits and takes them into his cold hands. I shiver but he seems not to notice. Holding them gently, he caresses the surface of each with two fingers and then strokes my nipples until they stand out hard. I feel a tingle between my thighs. He's the first man to get it right. I press into him. Suddenly he squeezes them hard, real hard, and gives them each a savage twist. I yelp and almost fall to my knees but he lets them go. I feel like crying. Almost.
"34C," he says flatly like he's reading it off a sheet. "Almost a D-Cup. Good quality, soft, pliant. No implants. Modest pain threshold." He gives them a mild slap to watch them jiggle then slaps them again from the other direction. "Springy, good bounce-back. They remain high, no sagging. Turn around."
Almost instantly I obey. I'm not sure what made me do that. He lifts my skirt and pulls my thong to the floor then places a firm hand on my shoulder blades and bends me down 45 degrees. Without thinking I step out of the thong and spread my legs.
He grips my rounded ass cheeks and massages them as though kneading bread dough then spanks them, first from the left then from the right, several times until the stinging pain reverberates like a bell. I am crying now but notice that my honey is drooling out of the sides of my cunt. Mr. Glass notices, too. He spreads my twat open wide, wider.
"You like pain, Cherry, when properly applied to your very attractive buttocks. Your pussy lubricates with great speed making it ready to accept a man's cock in only a few minutes."
Before I can reply he inserts two fingers up my slit and begins to finger-fuck me. His other hand reaches under to fondle my tits and pinch my nipples. Despite my embarrassment at being handled this way by a man I barely know, my body bursts with pleasure, forcing gasping breaths from my mouth. "Contrary to your initial attempts to elicit a reaction you actually enjoy being manipulated for a man's pleasure. You believe that you hold the power when you dance for a customer but in fact you surrender your power to be used as a sexual object. You are a natural submissive, Cherry. Am I right on this?"
"Y-yes, sir," I breathe. The tremors fanning out through my flesh make it difficult to stand.
"Bend over farther and place your hands on Mr. Craven's desk."
As I do so, I hear him unzip his fly and drop his pants to the floor. He stretches at the sides of my cunt, fingers then stretches, fingers then stretches, loosening the perinea and gaping my hole. In all of my sexual experimentation I have never been so well-used by a man.
"I enjoy a tight pussy like most men but the process of opening it up for close inspection has its own delights. Your labia are really quite artfully presented and the interior is of a vivid pink color that stimulates the senses. I'm going to fuck you now."
He slides his meaty cock into my slippery chute along with a pair of fingers that he also uses to caress my clit. Before Mr. Glass stretched my pussy out I didn't think myself capable of taking that much girth. He doesn't ram his tool into me like most guys but takes the time to explore the sensitive areas of my vaginal walls. It's almost calming, until he sticks a finger in my asshole. I want to come right there. I've tried anal sex a couple of times but never really found a guy who was good at it.
"You do have a snug pussy, Cherry, even after my work and I can tell that your asshole is even tighter. You're a very pleasant fuck, one that men would pay a lot of money for. Use your PC muscles, the ones that surround your cunt, to clutch at my cock then release, clutch then release. That's it. Keep doing that. Milk my cock. It increases my sensation and improves your quality as a piece of ass."
The more he speaks of me as if I'm some kind of whore the hotter I get. He keeps working my asshole and my snatch with his fingers as his thrusts increase in speed and depth. The slap of his hips against my flesh, the liquid pop and squish of a dick sliding in and out of a sopping wet beaver, my own scent and the scent of his musky cologne, all mingle with the heat of the room to make me dizzy. As he pounds my pussy I hear a door open and Mr. Craven walk in.
"Holy shit!" he exclaims. "What are you doing to to her?"
"It's your turn, Mr. Craven."
"What!?"
"Your turn to fuck her. Hurry, while she's still drenched. That's a direct order from corporate."
Mr. Craven grumbles and coughs but stations himself behind me and drops his pants.
"I'm sorry, Dana." he whispers.
"It's okay, sir," I console him.
With that he inserts his short stubby dick into my twat and proceeds to ram me, hard. He is much less elegant than Mr. Glass has been, and less skillful, but I am so hot it doesn't matter. Within minutes of his drumming pace I feel my body quake with ecstasy as the orgasm rips through my body and shakes me to the core. Mr. Craven shoots off his load at the same time and pours his hot, white cum into my shivering slit. It pours from his dick, stream after stream, forcing its way up my passage and spilling back out again. I feel the drip of cum and pussy juice coat my legs. He removes his cock.
"Aren't you going to cum in me, too, Mr. Glass?" I ask. He smiles.
"We have time. There's still that lovely asshole to explore. My reason for using you in this manner is that corporate has a proposition for you. We've expanded recently into .. other services .. ones that wealthy men are willing to pay a great deal of money for. You been selected as one of our first employees in this new venture, one that will net you an average of $50,000 per month. It will be safe, well-screened, and only with gentlemen of finer quality. The inspection today was to find out if you're made of the right material for the job. I'm happy to say that you are. Does this interest you?"
I gaze at him, still weary from the drilling. It doesn't take much energy or thought, however.
"Sure. Yeah. I'd love to do that." He grins broadly and moves behind me once again.
"Excellent," he says. "I had expected that from you." He spreads my butt and begins fingering my sphincter, stretching it as he does so. "Now let's investigate the quality of some of your other assets."
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