Trapeze Girl

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So I had a summer job at the circus. It was a thankless, dumbfuck job but I needed rent money and the circus guys were cool to hang out with. I learned to juggle a little, in between tidying away the horseshit and bringing cappuccinos to the clowns.

The best bit about the job was the girls. I heard tales from some of the other guys that the local chicks might give you a good, sloppy blowjob if they liked the look of you and your patter was sharp enough. But these town chicks were nothing compared to the chicks in the circus. Those circus chicks were heaven on legs, real showgirls, beautiful. Especially the trapeze girls. Somehow trapeze girls have always given me boners. Maybe it’s those pretty asses of theirs. You know the kind, like beachballs in fishnets, just aching to be fucked.

So one night I’m sweeping sawdust, just before the show. Brush in hand, I head backstage. I pass a changing room and there’s a door ajar, a light on. I peer in. And there’s a honey of a trapeze girl, adjusting her heels. She’s wearing a plume of red, blue and purple feathers, Etiler escort fishnets and a golden leotard. But my eyes are elsewhere. She’s bending over and her ass cheeks are as ripe and as swollen and as tempting as fresh, flesh peaches. There’s a g-string hiding her pussy but I feel my cock surge uncontrollably.

She turns, sees me. There’s a brief moment of surprise on her face and then her eyes fall to my bursting jeans. She gives a lipstick smile and moves towards me. She has a lean, dancer’s body, surprisingly muscular, with compact tits and a gymnast’s curves.

I say nothing. This girl knows what she wants. She reaches her slender fingers towards my exploding crotch and I glimpse scarlet fingernails tease my zip. Moments later my cock is unfurling in her face. She keeps eye contact as she extends her sweet little tongue and begins to lap at my veiny dick. She licks and swishes over the bulbous end and I see fine strands of pre-cum coat her tongue. She smiles some more and then clamps her lips around my prick and begins to deep throat me. Etiler escort bayan It’s ecstasy. I want to close my eyes. But even more I want to watch as this beautiful little slut bites on my meat. All I feel is my aching length in the hot wetness of her throat. I begin to thrust and my big, fuzzy balls slap her chin.

And then I have a better idea. Yeah, trust me, there’s a better idea than your cock fucking the face of a trapeze girl. Listen, I say. I have to screw your ass. She’s not sure, mumbles something about the show beginning, says there’s no time. I beat my prick on her perfect face a little and say sure there’s time.

So, a little hesitantly, she stands and turns her sweet ass towards me. I cup the cheeks in my hands, feel the soft, smooth weight of her flesh, squeeze the buttocks until they bulge and quiver. I move the g-string to one side and catch my breath as I expose her tiny, winking asshole, so pink and secret and vulnerable. And there’s a glimpse of pussy lips. I dip my fingers into her darkness and gather some juice, escort etiler smearing her asshole with the wine of her womanhood. I probe the asshole with a long finger, feeling the anal muscles first clutch and then, slowly, relax. I kick the door shut; two clowns just strolled past, curious looks on their greasepaint faces.

I take my cock in my hand and let it briefly tease and torment her rectum. She whimpers, her breathing hard and impassioned and animal. I slide myself in. It’s like fucking ice cream. Her slick ring expands and clings to the length of my shaft. In and out I thrust. I look down and see her ass cheeks swirl like separate moons, pinned together by the harsh thrusts of my penis.

I feel the cum-storm build in my balls. In. Out. In. Out. Fuck. That. Ass. And then I grunt, and my cock spits semen. It’s a white rush that fills her asshole and spills over her cheeks and dribbles and streams to her thighs. We lock, entwine, all sweat and sex juices. And then she’s cursing me and mopping at her ass with her fingers and then a rag, grabbed from the make up table. And she’s out the door, running to the show, ready for the high wire.

I feast my eyes on her swinging ass. Best not to mention the torn fishnets, or the glisten of filthy seed that clings to the curve of her left cheek. Yeah, the show must go on, I guess.

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