“For tomorrow, I just want you to look pretty and help me hand out sweets, that kind of thing. We won’t be able to do any big stage illusions and you need more swallowing practice before we can turn it into an act. Don’t worry – you’ll do fine.”
The party was in a fairly typical suburban semi-detached house not too far from Kevin’s lock-up.
They were greeted by a harassed mother and the smiling soon-to-be seven year-old birthday girl.
“Oh, good, you’re here a bit early. My husband’s not home yet and the first kids are due to arrive in half an hour,” she said in a hassled tone. “You can set up in here,” she said showing them the lounge. “If you need to get changed, you can go and find a room upstairs. I need to sort out the food so I’ll let you get on with it. Come on, Jocasta, you can help me with the canapes,” she added to her daughter.
Kevin turned to Claire as they left. “Right, don’t forget I’m the Great Phellatio and you’re Slapperina. I’ll set up the tricks in the front room. You go and get into your outfit.” Kevin was already wearing his cloak and ruffled shirt. Claire hadn’t felt too confident about walking around in her costume in public so had decided to get changed at the venue.
She went upstairs, entering the first room she came which seemed to be a master bedroom.
Thankfully, she had managed to find a spangly golden leotard outfit which wasn’t too scandalous or too tight around her formidable bust. She felt nervous but trusted Kevin to look after her.
She stripped out of her jersey and jeans and considered whether she should wear her white bra under the leotard. She decided that it would be too visible so took it off, leaving herself in only a simple white g-string that disappeared into the delightful crack of her perfect peachy bottom.
Just as she was rummaging in her bag for the leotard, the bedroom door opened and in walked a portly middle-aged gentleman.
Claire stood up and froze, exposing her large pale red-tipped breasts to the stranger’s gaze astounded gaze.
“Fuck me!” he said with feeling, closing the door behind him.
Claire, quickly lifted her hands to partly cover her boobs, hiding her high nipples from his hungry stare.
“Who are you?” she screeched crossly.
“Who am I? I should bloody well be asking you. This is my bedroom. Who the hell are you?” he replied as he moved towards Claire, his eyes roaming eagerly over her tall slender figure and outsized bosom.
Claire realised that this must be the father of the birthday girl.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m Claire, I mean Slapperina. I’m part of the magic act. Your wife said I could change up here,” she explained.
“Right, sure,” he replied distractedly, still staring at her virtually bare body. “Do you know, you’ve got the most amazing tits I ever seen,” he commented with feeling.
Claire, uncertain how to respond, murmured, “Oh, um, thanks.”
“I’ve never seen such big breasts that are so firm. Are they real?” he asked.
Claire, indignant at his accusation, dropped her hands to reveal the full expanse of her creamy freckled bosom and tight red nipples. She lifted her tits and dropped them allowing them to wobble charmingly. “Of course, they’re real!”
“Oh, fuck, yes, I can see they are,” he said reaching out to squeeze them.
Claire, ever proud of her boobs, briefly let him have a feel before remembering the situation. “What are you doing! Stop it! Your wife’s downstairs,” she said, batting his hands away.
The man just reached out again to tweak her nipples. “Oh, don’t worry about her. She’s busy putting the finishing touches on Jocasta’s cake. God they’re amazing.”
Claire, alarmed that a complete stranger was idly groping her bare breasts, pushed him away and grabbed her jersey, trying to cover herself up as much as possible. “No! Stop that!”
The man stepped back and pointed at his crotch. “Look what you’ve done!”
Claire moaned in agitation. He had a clear erection poking down his trouser leg.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, aghast at the situation.
The man shook his head. “Well, there’s nothing else for it. You’ll have to make it better,” he added, undoing his belt.
“What! No! Don’t get it out!” Claire begged. But he already had his ugly stubby erection in his hand.
“I’m sorry but you can’t expect me to walk around with a hard-on at my daughter’s party! Come here and relieve me,” he ordered, waving it at her.
“But can’t you do it yourself? I didn’t mean to make you hard!” Claire whined.
“Then you shouldn’t expose yourself to strangers! This is your fault — you should sort it out. Otherwise I’m going to complain to that weird looking fellow downstairs,” he threatened.
Claire immediately panicked at the thought of anything going wrong with her first ever engagement as a magician’s assistant. “No! OK! I’ll sort you out. I promise,” she said, dropping the jersey and sitting down on the bed in front of him.
She reached out tentatively with her hand to pull his foreskin back. He let out a long sigh as she began to masturbate him, gradually increasing her speed until her hand was a blur on his hairy cock.
“Oh, yeah, baby that’s good,” he sighed, stroking her head, before reaching down to roughly squeeze her tits.
However it wasn’t long before he started to push her head down towards his penis. “Go on suck it,” he demanded. “We don’t want to make a mess, now, do we?”
Despite her disgust at his unsightly cock and obnoxious smell, Claire resigned herself to the inevitable and opened her mouth for him to slide it between her plump red lips and over her agile pink tongue. She began to suck, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist her hot skilled mouth.
However, despite her expectations, it took a lot longer than she was anticipating to bring him to orgasm. Conscious that his wife might interrupt them at any moment and that Kevin would be waiting for downstairs, Claire decided to escalate her relief-giving mission.