hands fondling Chanelle’s dark breasts drove the men even wilder.
“Let’s see some chick-lick! Chick-lick!” the audience chorused. Ever obliging, Mandy leaned forward, reached over Chanelle, and took a bottle of Heineken from one of the guys. She dribbled beer over Chanelle’s breasts, then turned her around and began licking the brew off.
One of the drunken spectators decided to get into the act. He nudged Mandy out of the way and boldly poured beer over Chanelle’s shoulders. Beer ran down her chest and arms. And that’s when things started to get out of hand.
The oversexed group of men went into their bizarre chant again: “Chick-lick! Chick-lick!” Looking perplexed, Mandy froze and moved away from Chanelle. Lexi tried to enforce crowd control, but couldn’t.
In a matter of seconds, the bawdy men had drenched Chanelle from head to toe with beer, vodka, and gin, and shouted for Mandy to lick Chanelle.
Shocked out of her euphoric state, Chanelle screamed for them to stop. Her yelling did not deter one ambitious attendee from pouring the entire contents of the daiquiri pitcher over her head, coating Chanelle’s face and body with the cold, mushy mixture.
Temporarily blinded by the combination of alcoholic beverages, Chanelle stumbled toward the stairs. Neither Mandy nor Lexi came to her rescue with a towel or even comforting words. As if she weren’t humiliated enough, she heard titters of feminine laughter as she stumbled up the stairs.
Chanelle stopped mid-climb, struck suddenly by the knowledge that those two bitches had put something in her drink. It was probably Ecstasy—what else would cause her to act as wanton as she had? There was no other explanation for her behaving like such a happy hooker.
It took every bit of restraint not to run back down the stairs and kick some white ass—Mandy’s and Lexi’s as well as those of the bastards who’d disrespected her by dousing her with their drinks. But the desire to clean herself up had a more powerful pull. She’d deal with those two bitches later.
Oh God, she thought as she rushed up the stairs, besides allowing Mandy to slurp beer from her breasts, she’d even let that pumped-up muscular dude put his nasty fingers all up inside her pussy. She felt her heart pumping with rage. Damn, she wanted to fight everybody, but her biggest concerns at the moment were to take a shower, put on some clothes, and get the hell out of there.
Wiping muck from her hair and her face, she groped for the door handle of the changing room. But to her surprise, she quickly realized that she was in the wrong room, and was even more surprised to see that two men were together in bed! Her eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief.
The groom was wearing one of her prized costumes, a sheer one-piece micro-mini dress. He was lying on his back with both legs held up by the crook of his arms. “You like black bitches?” she heard the groom demand in a mean, raspy voice.
Sitting on his haunches, with his dick rubbing against Trevor’s ass, Brad hissed, “Shut up, Trevor; I was only fucking around. You’re the cheat who’s actually getting married. I can’t believe you’re gonna marry a goddamn cunt.” Brad’s final words were accompanied by a violent anal thrust, which caused Trevor to groan in what sounded more like pain than passion.
Chanelle shuddered at the sight of such debauchery. The male lovers seemed not to notice her standing there. She scurried from the raunchy scene and rushed into the dressing room where she snatched up her belongings. Fuck the sullied micro-mini. That bitch Trevor could have it as a wedding gift.
Chapter 8
“ W hat have I ever done to deserve such callous treatment?” Pamela Hinton asked her daughter through mournful sobs.
Before answering, Dayna took a moment to think about the situation. It was Mother’s Day; her father had invited her mother to brunch at the Four Seasons and then cancelled at the last minute. Dayna switched the
“Let’s see some chick-lick! Chick-lick!” the audience chorused. Ever obliging, Mandy leaned forward, reached over Chanelle, and took a bottle of Heineken from one of the guys. She dribbled beer over Chanelle’s breasts, then turned her around and began licking the brew off.
One of the drunken spectators decided to get into the act. He nudged Mandy out of the way and boldly poured beer over Chanelle’s shoulders. Beer ran down her chest and arms. And that’s when things started to get out of hand.
The oversexed group of men went into their bizarre chant again: “Chick-lick! Chick-lick!” Looking perplexed, Mandy froze and moved away from Chanelle. Lexi tried to enforce crowd control, but couldn’t.
In a matter of seconds, the bawdy men had drenched Chanelle from head to toe with beer, vodka, and gin, and shouted for Mandy to lick Chanelle.
Shocked out of her euphoric state, Chanelle screamed for them to stop. Her yelling did not deter one ambitious attendee from pouring the entire contents of the daiquiri pitcher over her head, coating Chanelle’s face and body with the cold, mushy mixture.
Temporarily blinded by the combination of alcoholic beverages, Chanelle stumbled toward the stairs. Neither Mandy nor Lexi came to her rescue with a towel or even comforting words. As if she weren’t humiliated enough, she heard titters of feminine laughter as she stumbled up the stairs.
Chanelle stopped mid-climb, struck suddenly by the knowledge that those two bitches had put something in her drink. It was probably Ecstasy—what else would cause her to act as wanton as she had? There was no other explanation for her behaving like such a happy hooker.
It took every bit of restraint not to run back down the stairs and kick some white ass—Mandy’s and Lexi’s as well as those of the bastards who’d disrespected her by dousing her with their drinks. But the desire to clean herself up had a more powerful pull. She’d deal with those two bitches later.
Oh God, she thought as she rushed up the stairs, besides allowing Mandy to slurp beer from her breasts, she’d even let that pumped-up muscular dude put his nasty fingers all up inside her pussy. She felt her heart pumping with rage. Damn, she wanted to fight everybody, but her biggest concerns at the moment were to take a shower, put on some clothes, and get the hell out of there.
Wiping muck from her hair and her face, she groped for the door handle of the changing room. But to her surprise, she quickly realized that she was in the wrong room, and was even more surprised to see that two men were together in bed! Her eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief.
The groom was wearing one of her prized costumes, a sheer one-piece micro-mini dress. He was lying on his back with both legs held up by the crook of his arms. “You like black bitches?” she heard the groom demand in a mean, raspy voice.
Sitting on his haunches, with his dick rubbing against Trevor’s ass, Brad hissed, “Shut up, Trevor; I was only fucking around. You’re the cheat who’s actually getting married. I can’t believe you’re gonna marry a goddamn cunt.” Brad’s final words were accompanied by a violent anal thrust, which caused Trevor to groan in what sounded more like pain than passion.
Chanelle shuddered at the sight of such debauchery. The male lovers seemed not to notice her standing there. She scurried from the raunchy scene and rushed into the dressing room where she snatched up her belongings. Fuck the sullied micro-mini. That bitch Trevor could have it as a wedding gift.
Chapter 8
“ W hat have I ever done to deserve such callous treatment?” Pamela Hinton asked her daughter through mournful sobs.
Before answering, Dayna took a moment to think about the situation. It was Mother’s Day; her father had invited her mother to brunch at the Four Seasons and then cancelled at the last minute. Dayna switched the
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