 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 7 Act One Scene 1
“This is a little weird,” I whispered to Michelle under the sonorous tones of the organ. “I didn’t know the Roman Catholic rite included a deflowering mass. You have magic in those fingers, Girl.”
“Somehow I doubt the Pope has ever conduced one, not even the Borgias,” said Michelle keeping her hand busy with my sex. Two fingers were stroking my G-spot and her thumb was windshield wiping my clit. My Bartholin glands were in overdrive causing me to wonder whether masturbation can lead to dehydration.
Two days ago, the idea of masturbating another woman in a church would have been beyond my comprehension. Don Delgado’s crew had transformed me from up tight American housewife to some kind of uber slut.
Moments before at Don Delgado’s direction, Michelle and I spread our legs, placing my left over her right and my right on top of the next pew so we could masturbate one another. Everything halted as the cameraman got a close up of me licking my fingers then applying them to her clitoris. It was an exhibitionist moment that based on my prior commitment to go all out resulted in a heavy flow of vaginal lubricant. Michelle’s talented fingers whipped me into froth.
My free hand was freely roaming my breasts squeezing my nipples causing me to moan like some sort of depraved street whore. Honestly, I had lost all sense of decency.
It was less than a minute before I orgasmed resulting in a heavy spray of pee splattering the back of the pew. It made a large puddle on the floor. The cameraman got drops on his lens. He smiled as he tasted my urine and whispered a promise to fuck me at the first opportunity.
“Soccer moms are squirt whores in waiting,” whispered Dayana to Don Delgado observing my performance.
Losing control of my bladder was a new experience for me. Michelle showed her support by wetting her hand in my blast and licking the fluid from her fingers then kissing me with loads of tongue.
“Mexicans must be very religious. The music is inspiring and the pipe organ has an incredible range. Don Delgado said it was over two hundred years old,” said Michelle enjoying the church music after we got each other off. Michelle plays the organ at our church back in Boston during services so she should know.
We were seated in the second pew of the exquisite chapel that was part of Don Delgado’s estate. Being Presbyterians, we weren’t used to the baroque decorations and statuary of Roman Catholicism. I understood that Catholicism played a major role in the lives of Mexicans so it was only natural that RC church services appear in our adult film. A mass had been in the one Dayana had shown us previously. Certain motifs are often repeated in adult films like car chases and helicopter crashes in action-oriented American films?
The mixture of Spanish and Latin made the ceremony hard to follow but it was obvious that April was being given to her father and Celia to Warren. Wendy and Katlyn stood close by holding bouquets draped with a rosary. Both girls looked very sexy with their breasts and buttocks exposed. Make-up brought their nipples to a rosy red.
Celia and April were dressed in the same whorish outfits as the rest of us. However, the wardrobe person added white veils to the girl’s attire to emphasize their role as brides eager to be deflowered by their fathers. Warren and Wes were nude except for the flowers their Mexican whores had tied to the privates. Katlyn dubbed them floral cock rings. I suppose that was as apt a description as any.
Our husbands were totally ignoring us in favor of their Latina trash. I had a moment in which I wish it had been Warren’s Adriana instead of Dayana in the whipping bench. I would gladly have set her ass on fire then made her swallow every drop of my urine.
In the pew behind us, Doug and Bryan were studying their scripts and playing with their penises. When we first sat down, Doug had leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you beg me for more, Mrs. Tate.” I just looked back and smiled. Being screwed my someone who called me, “Mrs. Tate,” struck me as funny.
The priest was assisted by two altar boys. I’m not familiar with catholic liturgy but their attire looked authentic and in fact was the same regalia they wore at morning mass.
On a track down the center aisle, Don Delgado’s camera dolly was manhandled by the chief cinematographer, a man named Cesar who appeared to know his business. It moved silently back and forth complemented by the two men with hand held cameras. I know very little about making movies. However, it is my understanding that only a tiny fraction of the digital images make it into the final cut.
The deflowering mass was a brief ceremony that included everyone kneeling at the altar rail to receive the body of Christ. We Presbyterians have a totally different take on the Eucharist but as far as the film was concerned we were all Catholics.
The exchange of rings but not the kind you would expect. The father’s ring consisted of a small leather strap with a Velcro fastener that fitted tight around their penis and testicles.
“It’s called a cock ring,” whispered Michelle as Celia knelt down and took the head of Warren’s cock in her mouth to steady it while she circled her father’s manhood and pressed the Velcro closed. Both men were fully erect when their daughters finished.
The tempo of the music increased as the scene approached a climax. The altar boys unfolded a spotless white sheet and placed it in front of the altar. Next they added a couple of thick white pillows. The girls followed the director’s instructions to lie down on the sheet with one pillow under the head and the other under their hips.
Wendy and Katlyn took up positions kneeling in front of their fathers and provided oral sex. I didn’t detect any dismay on Warren or Wes’ faces as their eldest daughters sucked their cocks. Both men followed the Don’s direction to put their hands in the prayer position and look toward the heavens for inspiration.
That was Michelle and my cue to step forward and service our daughter’s orally. As I got into position between Celia’s thighs, I felt cool water land on my back. The priest had dipped a gold plated implement into what I surmised was a container of Holy Water then splash it over the wedding party. Father Escondido stood between the supine brides reciting a blessing in Latin as I peeled Celia’s labia apart and applied my tongue to her clitoris making sure to tease her newly installed gold ring. One of the hand held cameras was inches from my face as I swirled my tongue around her virginal button.
Both girls started moaning and writhing as we performed cunnilingus, not exactly the reaction one would expect from young virgins. Actually I wasn’t sure Celia or April were virgins; but the script said they were. Virginal Celia didn’t seem to have any problem with being deflowered by her father in front of family, friends, and film crew. She was moaning and wet in no time as she raised her hips eager for my tongue.
When the organ changed to a different dirge (I think it was Gregorian chant), I slipped the blood pill in Celia’s vagina. Don Delgado wasn’t taking any chances that the girls would not bleed for the camera. He was most likely correct. Celia informed me six months ago she no longer had a hymen due to a fall onto the balance beam in gymnastics. A month later, back home I happened upon her dildo collection. When I questioned the little slut, she informed me that she had taken her own virginity the first year of middle school.
When the fugue ended, Michelle and I rose with the help of the altar boys one of whom had quite the boner pressing his cassock outward. We stood aside as Warren and Wes took position between the girl’s outstretched legs. Celia’s pussy was practically twitching at the prospect of screwing her daddy.
The music changed again as the priest spoke another short Latin prayer. The Dads used their cocks to part the girls’ labia each taking a second to make sure their cock head was poised at the entrance.
“I love you, Celia,” said Warren remembering his line. Wes had the same line.
“I love you, Daddy. Take me in Jesus’ name and make me your little whore,” said the girls.
The music stopped, signaling both dads to deflower their daughters in unison. The priest shouted something in Latin. The girls groaned as their pussy’s filled with daddy. The blood pills burst causing red to spill out on the white pillows. The organ sounded a powerful note filling the space.
Michelle and I both cried on cue because it was very dramatic even if it was just a movie.
The organist switched to a more joyful sound. Both girls wrapped their legs around their dad’s waist. Father and Daughter pumped away until they climaxed. In true porn fashion, they pulled out at the last minute and squirted their seed on the girl’s belly.
Sex over, the girls and their fathers processed out with the rest of the wedding party following.
Scene 1 of Act 1 was complete. However, as I found out that morning, taking care of the extras and help was my punishment or is that reward. But this time I had a partner.
“Everyone follows Carolina to Sound Stage 1, except for Kathy and Michelle,” said Dayana.
“Where do we go,” asked Michelle looking through her screen play?
“Back inside to take care of Father Escondido and his sons,” said Dayana. “It’s the traditional way for the mothers of the deflowered girls to show their appreciation.”
“The priest has sons,” I questioned?
“Four, but you only have to screw two, the altar boys,” said Dayana. “You won’t be disappointed. I’ve done Father Escondido before and he is hung like a bull. The boys take after their daddy. Happy fucking, you lucky sluts!”
Dayana rushed off after the others. Michelle and I shrugged our shoulders then headed back into the chapel where we were expected.
“On your knees, whores of Satan, face the altar and pray for forgiveness,” said Father Escondido as he slipped off his surplice.
His sons positioned us side by side so our hips and shoulders were touching. It was going to be sexual intercourse dog fashion starting with oral for the now nude altar boys. The boys sat directly in front of us with their legs spread. They satisfied their curiosity about our breasts by feeling them.
“What’s your name, Handsome? You are muy guapo,” I asked in my high school Spanish? Knowing the name of young men who were about to stick their penises in your mouth seemed appropriate.
“My name is Juan, Senora. This is my brother Ramon,” replied Juan in passable English. Then Juan leaned forward and kissed me using a lot of tongue.
Ramon smiled and said, “Hola,” as he limbered up his uncircumcised penis. Both boys had man sized penises.
“Hola, Juan, I’m Kathy and this is my friend, Michelle. We’re from Boston.”
I licked the tip of Juan’s penis and massaged his testicles as he translated for his brother.
“Don’t ask how old they are. I don’t want to know,” said Michelle taking Ramon’s shaft in her hand as she formed her lips around the head and began practicing the timeless actions of a blowjob.
The boys being boys groped our boobs and began treating our nipples like radio knobs. I focused on getting them to climax so we could rejoin the others.
Michelle and I were performing oral with energy and skill when I felt a large blunt object being placed at the entrance to my vagina. A glance over my shoulder revealed that Father Escondido had shed his attire. Dayana had not been entirely accurate in describing the Father’s manhood. It was maybe only a little longer than average but it was amazingly thick. I groaned as that overstuffed sausage wedged its way into my too narrow vagina.
I had the sensation I was being split apart. I groaned, “It’s too big. It’s ripping me open.”
Michelle came to my aid with helpful advice. “Spank your clit.”
An open palm slap on the little man in the boat created the desired result but not without considerable pain. Not since the birth of Celia had the walls of my vagina been so stretched. Still, it was highly satisfying when I felt the priest’s balls smack against my bottom. He was in to the hilt and I survived.
While I was on the spit (a term I learned later), Michelle and Ramon were enjoying themselves. She was making cooing sounds as she placed her mouth on his anus. With a combination of licks and pointed tongue thrusts she opened him up then inserted a forefinger for a prostate massage. I imitated my neighbor, managing to locate the small gland with the pad of my finger. Juan moaned his approval then said something to his father in Spanish too rapid or too profane for me to understand.
Quickly, Juan’s respiration increased and he climaxed. “Madre de Dios,” he screamed as he filled my mouth with warm semen. I took a moment to savor his essence before I swallowed. Later, Michelle and I agreed that boy come is actually sweet.
As soon as Michelle finished Ramon, Father Escondido switched his pussy destroyer to her and she was the one who groaned and moaned as it widened the path to her cervix.
“Senora Kathy, climb under me and lick my balls while I fuck Michelle,” ordered the man of God.
Being respectful of the clergy, I complied by turning on my back and squirming between his knees. Michelle’s vagina was no more than an inch above my forehead. When I looked up, I could see his awesome penis thrusting into Michelle’s opening. Juan and Ramon licked my pussy to keep themselves occupied.
The priest’s testicles were enormous. They felt like they weighed a pound each when they rested on my face. I licked and sucked his hairy balls as I reached my arm up to locate his sphincter then his prostate.
“American whores are the best,” exclaimed Father Escondido when I inserted the tip of my index finger in his anus. I would have said, “Gracias,” but my mouth was full of his left testicle.
A few more strokes and those enormous balls emptied their content into Michelle’s love canal. When he slowly pulled out his slime covered penis plopped onto my face. Unbidden I licked the slime reveling in the taste.
“Don’t move, Senoras,” ordered Father Escondido. “Juan, Ramon, come here. I want to show you something special you can do with American whores.”
I stayed still while Juan and Ramon gathered at their father’s side eager to learn.
“Open your mouth, Kathy. Move back slightly, Michelle,” said Father Escondido.
“See boys how the American slut loves to drink our seed from her friend’s pussy. You will not witness this in Mexico unless the girls have lived in the United States,” said Father Escondido.
What a totally ridiculous idea! But I didn’t see any point in enlightening the priest. I just lay there with my mouth open as semen oozed out of Michelle and dribbled down her sex to fall into my open mouth. Once the flow stopped, I rose up on one elbow and licked her sex clean. That was my idea. I didn’t want to disabuse him of the notion that American women are unique in their willingness to recycle semen.
It was at that moment, I noticed the eight men standing at the back of the church. They were all dressed in the same style one piece coverall.
Father Escondido had also noticed. “Escobar, Simon, everyone, come meet the porn stars Don Delgado brought from the United States.”
Where did Father Escondido get his information? It seemed all wrong. Porn stars were eighteen year old strippers with fake boobs and terrific bodies who had been prostitutes since they left home at fourteen after their daddy raped them. Michelle and I were forty year old soccer moms with real boobs that were fighting a losing battle with gravity. Although we both attended the gym five days a week for yoga, spin, and Pilates, time had taken its toll.
The men hurried forward and I finally recognized their uniforms. They took care of the estate’s flora and fauna. The fact there were eight men employed in mowing laws, trimming bushes, and taking care of the gardens gives you an idea of the grounds of Casa Delgado.
I was still on the floor with Father Escondido’s semen on my face when he introduced two of the men as his brothers, four as cousins, and the remaining two as no relation whatsoever. I’d always heard that due to the teaching of their church, Mexicans had huge families.
“Please to meet you and we hate to run but Dayana wants us on Sound Stage 1,” I said after shaking hands with all present.
“No, please, Senoras, you must stay and fuck these men. They would consider it an honor,” said Father Escondido.
“Perhaps, another time,” said Michelle starting to edge toward the door.
“Please, Senoras, these men are away from the wives and in need of a woman. It would be an act of Christian charity to fuck them,” said Father Escondido.
Michelle surprised me by saying, “We’ll have to make it quick. Or they’ll come looking for us.”
It turned out to be another seminal moment in my life and Michelle’s. I could make the case that up to that point all Casa Delgado sex had been non consensual. There had been a real or implied threat behind in every act. We could have refused and left. I doubt the campesinos who tended the grounds would have forced themselves on two American porn stars.
Michelle led the way by kneeling down and boldly announcing, “Let’s see those cocks, Caballeros.”
Father Escondido translated and those gardener coveralls were off in a seconds. Four men surrounded me forming a circle so tight their hips touched. It took coordination to masturbate two men while orally servicing the other two. Michelle did the same for her four.
“Shit, this is hot,” I shouted to Michelle realizing I was sexually aroused to the edge of orgasm and no one including me was touching my sex. It was the warmth, closeness and the feeling of all that manhood that was getting me off. Those guys worked in the sunshine and the smell of man sweat filled the air. I came when they started mauling my breasts. There was another puddle of my pee on the marble floor.
I worked my way around four uncircumcised penises reveling in the stench of sweat and urine. It had become my aphrodisiac.
“Fuck me! Fuck the shit out of me,” I yelled rolling onto my back, spreading my legs and parting my labia like some out of control nymphomaniac. It was the first time in my life I experienced a sexual frenzy. I absolutely had to have them inside my body. It was a hunger that had to be satisfied. Luckily, there were the necessary resources to satiate me.
One of the brothers took position, slapped his penis hard against my clitoris a couple of times then speared me. It felt so good I screamed for him to fuck me harder as I ground my clitoris against his hairy groin.
“She must have been in hundreds of DVDs,” said one of the men as he attacked my nipple with his mouth; his two day beard scraped across my breast sending me over the top.
“I recognize her. She was in the film about the girls who give pussy to the truckers,” said Simon.
“Yes, that was her,” said Escobar. “She loves cock and pussy both. They are both famous.”
Regardless of misconceptions, the crew had seen enough American porn to take me to the next level. After a dozen hard thrusts that gave this soccer mom a new appreciation of what a hard cock can do, he rolled us over and I found myself on top squirming to get all of him deep inside me.
Two callused hands separated my buttocks. I heard and felt sputum landing on my sphincter. I looked back to see one of the men smearing it over my anus with his manhood. I reached back with one hand to separate my buttocks signaling my welcome of his intent. An instant later and for the second time in that day, there were two penises inside me and one of them was not a seventy year old dentist but a muscular gardener.
Once they were both inside me, I closed my eyes to savor the moment. My senses were on fire. I could feel their presence separated by a thin membrane. I slipped my hand down to my sex and rubbed my clitoris creating an orgasm so powerful I almost blacked out. Michelle, who happened to be watching, said my eyes rolled up in my head and only the whites were visible.
It turned out they learned another trick from watching American porn. A pair of hands gripped my head. Thumbs forced my jaw to open and a blunt male penis pushed its way into my mouth, not stopping until it reached my throat opening. “Deep throat, Puta,” muttered the man before forcing a couple of inches down my gullet.
My tongue worked the underside of his penis as I flexed my Pilates trained abdomen to suck my belly button toward my spine contracting my love tunnels around the two penetrating columns of male flesh. A torrent of gutter Spanish poured from their mouth in appreciation.
They rotated with the precision of a volleyball team. Michelle got the same treatment. Guys moved between us to sample the favors of both porn stars. Father Escondido and sons joined in. I’m not sure all eleven of them were inside me but I’d swear nine of them.
They insisted on a porn finish directed by Father Escondido. Michelle and I were sitting on our heels with our faces to the fresco on the ceiling. Our mouths were open with tongues extended. Simon held our heads together as one by one they ejaculated on our faces. It was hard to see with come in my eyes but Father Escondido used a digital camera to record the ending. Maybe he intended to put the images in the Sunday bulletin. He circled around taking images as the semen mask became thicker.
Later, Michelle told me it was called, “Bukkake,” and was Japanese in origin. I suppose porn is global in nature. My mouth was full and my face was covered when Father Escondido added his load as Simon filled the camera’s memory card.
“Blow bubbles,” said Escobar who had an understanding of tricks you can perform with a mouth of ejaculate. Father Escondido captured that image for his scrapbook. One of the men was using a cell phone camera to transmit images to the wife at home.
“Gargle,” said Escobar next.
I have no idea why anyone would think gargling semen like it was mouthwash was erotic but I complied.
“Now swallow it then open your mouth to show it is empty,” was our next instruction.
It took a couple of gulps before I opened my mouth and tried to smile at the camera through a film of come. Everything was bleary.
“Now, kiss and lick clean each other’s face,” advised Escobar.
“No one in Boston who knows us would believe this was us,” said Michelle as we embraced for a prolonged bout of tongue kissing and face licking.
That brought up one concern I had. Suppose someone back home recognized us. It was a problem I had no solution so I shoved it to the back of my mind.
Before they let us leave, a final round of souvenir images of each man redressed in his coveralls standing between Michelle and me had to be captured for posterity. I will always wonder what the bishop or the Pope would think if he saw his priest dressed in his vestments standing between two smiling, naked women with semen matted in their hair.
|
|
|