Date: Thu, 19 Apr 2012 13:07:36 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: AGE OF WANTONNESS 2 This is a sexually oriented fantasy set in the future. The author does not condone the activities depicted. He only describes what might occur, given the premises upon which the story is based. Skittish readers should use caution. Minors should move on. Sexual activity is explicitly detailed. Thanks for your responses. All comments, pro or con, are appreciated. All email will be answered. macoutmann@yahoo.com AGE OF WANTONNESS by Macout Mann Chapter 2 Anything Goes was opened by Ben Stiles' father in 1980. It was what was called "a strip club" or "a titty bar." Girls performed strip teases and hustled watered-down drinks from customers, all male and mostly working class. The girls were prohibited from getting completely naked. A g-string had to cover their pussies and for some odd reason "pasties" had to be stuck over their nipples. As attitudes toward sex liberalized, the elder Stiles was way ahead of the curve. He upgraded his facilities, adding elegant appointments and fine dining. And his girls were not only nearly naked but very talented. Upper class patrons, including couples, packed the place. After a troop of male strippers, called "The Chippendales" successfully toured the country, Anything Goes added a second show room, featuring guys. Unlike the Chippendales, who played exclusively to female audiences, Stiles' shows welcomed gays and couples as well. As the sexual revolution progressed, Anything Goes allowed anything that the law would tolerate. First total nudity in both show rooms, then dance numbers that were more than suggestive, and by 2030 sex acts themselves, tastefully performed. Ben remembers well the time in 2029, when a georgeous stud stood on the stage in a seeming trance and shot his load at an appreciative audience without touching himself. Now anything really does go. There are still two show rooms, but the content of one show is largely indistinguishable from the other. All the patrons are perfectly cool watching two or more males, two or more females, or mixed couples enjoying sex. That's why Ben is so excited by his new act. He can't believe that they can fuck to music and cum on cue. He sits in his "working office" backstage, rather than his public office up front. The trio that auditioned this morning troop in. They are still naked. Maurice, the black star of the act, six-six, amazingly muscular, with a dick that seems to hang almost to his knees, is first. Caroline and Ashby, both white, both under six feet, but both sporting spectacular bodies, follow. "Welcome," Ben says, shaking hands all around. "I was whammed by your performance at the audition. I want you in the show, and I hope you'll stick around for a long time. Our audiences will cum in their britches when they see you." "Thank you, Mr. Stiles," Maurice responds. "We'd like to be here as long as we can." Maurice was from Bermuda. Ben, whose father was from Pascagoula, Mississippi, and who still visited relatives there, could never get used to a black with a British accent. "Good," is all he can muster. "Ashby's sister," Maurice continues, "is a Pilgrim. He wants to be near her, try to convert her. And we don't want to break up the act." "Oh, your sister's a member of that religious group that's taken over Ole Town," Ben says. "They had a demonstration here at the club recently. We had to call the cops." "When can we start?" Maurice asks. "Fuck!" Ben retorts, "As soon as possible. "But," he continues, "our choreographer needs to work out the staging of your act. I don't guess you've seen our show, but we have a chorus line. It's like the Rockettes—well, about a century ago there was this posh theatre in New York, the Radio City Music Hall, that had a line of girls, all the same height, that did these routines—except that our line alternates both naked gals and guys, and they entertain between acts. "What I'm thinking is, they'll come across the stage, then split, and Maurice, you'll be there. It won't matter if you're hard or soft with that goddamned tool you've got. And if you are goanna work with Ashby, the guys can come and feel you up, and if you're goanna work with Caroline the gals'll come, and for the finale—well Gerald can figure out something sexy. "But you can get with him tomorrow morning. "We'll get some pics and start advertising tomorrow, too." Ben was sixty-five, but still horny as hell. He wasn't sure he could take Maurice's monster, and he was torn between the boy and the girl. He decided he could have her later. "Ashby," he said, "I want to suck your dick. No offense Caroline." "None taken," She laughed. Ben led Ashby to the couch on the opposite side of the room. Ashby unloosed Ben's belt and undid his laxjeans, before they both sank onto the soft cushions. Laxjeans are just like the hip-huggers that Levi Strauss invented two centuries ago, but they can be undone with one motion, the better to get to a dick or pussy. Ben takes Ashby's ample prong into his mouth and starts priming the pump. He is pleasantly surprised to feel lips around his tool too. "Caroline," he thinks. But then he feels massive hands on his butt and realized he's being sucked by Maurice. "Oh, shit," he thinks, "if Caroline could also be tonguing my ass right now, that would be perfect." He is sure the trio has been involved in shit like that many times, but he decides just to enjoy the moment. Ashby is the perfect size, and Ben relishes the feeling of Ashby's throbbing member bouncing from throat to squeezing lips. And Maurice also is one hell-of-a-cocksucker. Ben is just about to cum, when he feels Caroline's expert hands massaging his pecs. That does it. He blows his wad down Maurice's throat and almost at the same time feels Ashby's cum flood his gullet. "They're goanna make me a lotta money," Ben thinks, "and we're goanna have a lotta fun too." Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.