Slobbering over the bassist’s tattooed cock, the ravenous whore met his eyes as she sank her lips over his shaft. She watched his eyelids flutter, his cheek twitch, then his mouth loll open entirely as she pressed down hard and took him to the base. The head crushed against the back of her throat, prompting her to gag wetly. But she was an experienced deep-throater – everyone in the room knew that – and despite the reflexive retch that rolled her torso she ignored the complaints of her body and remained latched to him like a leech. The darting slither of her tongue, which snaked out to lick his heavy balls, drove him over the edge and the broad, intimidating man who was ordinarily the most powerful presence in any room melted into the couch with a stupid grin.
‘Fucking hell,’ said the drummer, sat opposite on another couch alongside the lead singer, rubbing his cock through his ripped jeans, ‘she’s really in a frenzy tonight.’
‘She always is on opening night,’ said his companion. They, along with the guitarist, who was already openly jerking off as he leaned against a clothes rack, were in their dressing room. They were set to go on stage later that night, but right then the only thing on their minds was how tight their fuck doll was going to be.
Knowing they were watching, she lifted her ass and swayed it, teasing them with her winking hole and glistening cunt. Like a snake-charmer she soon had them swaying in time.
‘Did you ever think she’d end up this mental?’ asked the guitarist.
The lead singer shrugged. ‘Dunno, never thought about it much to be honest. I guess I just thought Ricky would get over it like he did our other pranks. He always had such a good sense of humour.’
‘You sound like you wish he was still here,’ laughed the drummer.
‘Fuck no! This bitch is infinitely better than he ever was. I mean, fucking look at her. She needs cock more than air!’
Still attached to the bassist’s cock, she was proving his point well. She hadn’t come up for air yet, and if the sloppy hissing as she breathed through her nose was any indication she didn’t plan to do so any time soon. As they watched she began to swivel her head, spinning like a corkscrew around his cock. The movement seemed to catalyse the bassist into motion, and though it was entirely unnecessary his hands flew to the back of her skull to keep her pressed down. The slutty giggle she let off sent a shiver through all three voyeurs.
Until a few years ago Ricky had been the band’s longest serving roadie. The guy knew his way around everything from the tour bus to the guitar strings and, having worked for them since their early days long before they were selling out stadiums for wild nights of hard rocking, he had practically been part of the band. So much so he had always been considered a fair target for the pranks they enjoyed playing on one another.
One night, after a particularly thrilling set and an intense party to follow it up, in a drunken stupor they had tricked him into taking a Pink Pill, transforming him into a luscious brunette stunner. Whether it was the booze, the effects of the pill, or a combination of both they never found out, but the woman Ricky had become proved herself to be an absolute savage of a slut, practically begging them to fuck her all through the night until they had passed out from exhaustion in a tangle of limbs.
To their surprise, when they awoke they found she was still skipping around through the trashed hotel room they were staying in. Even pissed they had made sure not to finish inside her (though that wasn’t to say they hadn’t provided her with a mask of sticky cum, which she had guzzled down excitedly), so at first they had been deeply confused, knowing that the effects should have worn off by then. In truth they had, but when Ricky had regained consciousness back in his male body he had almost thrown up. The night before had been so intoxicating, had warped his mind so completely, the mere sensation of being a man again had made him physically sick, and he had upended the room to find the rest of the pills to get back to the woman he was supposed to be.
Unable to resist her filthy teasing, they had sealed her transformation that morning with a gangbang for the ages, and ever since she had gone from roadie to live-in groupie. Submitting herself as their horny, insatiable cumslut was her definition of heaven, and her depraved antics had earned her a new name: Little Miss Rotten. Because that’s exactly what she was, right to the core. Most of the time they called her Rot for short, but addressing her by her full title was sure to be rewarded by a mind-melting blowjob.
That’s what the bassist had done and now he was a flopping mess. His eyes were so far back in his skull he looked as though she had summoned a demon to possess his drained body.
Just then the big brute came hard, his hips bucking up once and threatening to knock her off. But with the promise of cum she would never be wrestled free and her jaws remained locked in place as he shot a huge load. When she finally came away she had not spilled a single drop and she grinned with cum-stained teeth as, wiping her lips playfully with her index finger, the rest of the band applauded – they’d seen the size of the bassist’s load before, had witnessed many lesser sluts gag and spill it. Rot was the only bitch they’d ever met who could consistently perform to such high standards.
She smirked mischievously at the three remaining men, no longer interested in the bassist blubbering deliriously on the couch. She was insatiable, and she would not rest until the full band was in a similar state. Fortunately, they were more than happy to let her have her way with them, and as they rose from the couch stroking their thick, juicy cocks she strutted across to the drummer and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, the bassist’s cum still coating her throat.
Her mouth had already had plenty of action tonight, however, and she was ready for something a little more invasive. Given she had spent years learning the perfect way to satisfy each of the men in the room, twisting them to her kinky will with all the ease of a pickpocket lifting a protruding wallet, it was only a matter of moments before she was folded up on the couch with the drummer making use of her second pair of lips…
Thanks for reading!
The comments I made about my stance on gifs last week are reinforced very well by this piece I think. As far as I’m concerned, the gifs used in this piece are about as low quality as I’m willing to use for my work now. In fairness, these are a little lower quality than I’d like, however there were no alternatives I could use.
The reason for that is because the model in this scene is Rachel Rotten. Rotten’s work has drifted in and out of my porn diet from time to time, and holy fuck am I happy whenever it surfaces. She is the absolute epitome of an alternative slut, and as you can probably see from this piece she’s utterly insatiable. She pushes all my buttons, however unlike many other models she isn’t all that mainstream and so there really aren’t many image galleries of her work and most of the scenes themselves aren’t HD. I’d love to use her work again, but I’ll have to see if I can find some decent images or higher quality gifs before I do. Regardless, be sure to check out Rotten’s work and thank me later.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
Keep up to date with new releases by following me elsewhere:
Twitter: @Fetish_Fantasy_
Imgbox: https://imgbox.com/g/PmhPaUpgdM
Images: https://www.sex.com/pin/56803463-hot-rachel-rotten-blowjob/
https://www.sex.com/pin/56803738-rachel-rotten-fucking-hard/#
