Welcome and thank you for listening to sex Time Stories. The following program contains explicit language and sexual content that may be offensive to some listeners and is inappropriate for children. The content within this podcast is intended for mature audiences only over eighteen years old. The character names in this story are fictional and any likeness is purely coincidental, even
though some of our stories are nonfiction. Thank you for listening to sex Time Stories, your source for entertaining educational arousing tells meant to enhance your solo our group sexual fulfillment. Now lay back, dimble lights, close your eyes, relax, and enjoy yourself without further delay. Here is our story.
TTM Productions presents Into Deep, Episode twelve.
I Like Them Open.
Two months had passed since the night I first stepped onto the stage of the Wolfman's Private Club, the velvet lights and hungry eyes devouring me as though I was born to be there. Two months since the crushing loss of Patient be, the woman I couldn't save, whose absence once lodged itself like glass in my chest. Somewhere between the pole, the music and the endless cascade of bills, that grief began to dissipate, not vanish, but loosen its grip,
like smoke fading into the rafters. Stripping became more than performance. It was liberation and unraveling of sorrow into something raw, daring and strangely purposeful. Five nights a week, I surrendered myself to that rhythm, each dance a ritual, each gaze from the crowd a kind of baptism. The pain of psychiatry's failures dulled as I shed not only my clothing but the weight of responsibility. No anguished voices, no haunting suicides,
no more patients slipping through my hands. I'd abandoned the clinical walls for velvet shadows, and in doing so, I discovered a new identity. The irony was not lost on me. Healing had slipped from my grip as a doctor, Yet as a stripper, I found a strange sort of rebirth in giving myself entirely to the stage. You might wonder how I managed to pay for my lavish San Francisco home and the sleek new electric car during those two months. Well,
let me tell you. In just two weeks, I nearly doubled my monthly earnings as a doctor, solely from the damp, crumpled bills tossed on stage. The Wolfman's excres elusive strip club catered to a client tell of both men and women, all earning well over six figures. He was revolutionizing the industry, transforming strip clubs into sophisticated, high class establishments that ensured the safety and comfort of the six ladies who worked there,
including myself. The Wolfman had grand plans for expansion, aiming to increase the number of performers and extend his reach to new locations. I'm sure many of you have wondered what it was like for me, a woman with a doctorate degree, to work as a stripper in the Wolfman's upscale club. It was a unique experience, to say the least. While some might assume it would be degrading or beneath me, I found a certain liberation in shedding the expectations and
judgments of the academic world. The Wolfman's establishment provided a safe, supportive environment where I could embrace my sensuality and explore a different side of myself, all while earning a substantial income. It challenged societal norms and allowed me to redefine what success and empowerment meant.
To me.
At first, I couldn't help but compare myself to the other strippers, with their perfect bodies and flawless moves. I would watch them on stage, their breasts high and firm, their pussies smooth and inviting, and wonder if I could ever measure up. When I looked at my own naked body in the mirror, I would pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, wondering if my breasts were big enough, my hips curvy enough, my pussy tight enough. I felt like an impostor, a fraud, trying to play it a game
I could never win. But as I continued to dance night after night, I began to notice a change. The patrons didn't seem to care about my perceived flaws or imperfections. They cheered just as loudly for me as they did for the other girls, their eyes following my ever remove with rapt attention. Slowly I started to see myself through their eyes, to appreciate the beauty and sensuality of my
own body. I learned to love the way my breasts bounced as I moved, the way my hips swayed to the music, the way my pussy glistened with arousal under the stage lights, and with that newfound confidence, I began to come into my own I stopped comparing myself to the other girls and started embracing my own unique appeal. I realized that beauty comes in many forms, and that there was no one right.
Way to be sexy or desirable.
By the time I took my final bow on stage each night, I felt like a goddess, worshiped and adored by all who gazed upon me. I had finally learned to love my naked body just as it was, and it was the most liberating feeling in the world. As I took the stage each night, I knew I wanted to do something special, something that would set me apart from the other girls and pay homage to my strip club hero, Buttercup. So I came up with a routine that was all my own, designed to drive the crowd
wild with desire. I would start by slowly removing my top, teasing the audience with glimpses of my breasts before finally revealing them in all their glory. Then I would play with my nipples, pinching and squeezing them until they were hard and erect, all while maintaining eye contact with the men in the front row. Next, I would slide my
skirt down my hips, revealing the tiny thong underneath. I would tease the crowd by slipping my fingers in and out of the sides, giving them brief flashes of my pussy, before finally removing the panties entirely and tossing them into the audience. Then I would lay down on the stage, spreading my legs wide and giving the crowd an up close and personal view. As I began to touch myself, my fingers sliding in and out of my wet heat, I would moan and writhe putting on a show for
all to see. Finally, I would stand back up and make my way to the pole, ready for the grand finale. I would grind my pussy against the cool metal, rubbing myself up and down, back and forth until I was on the brink of orgasm, and then with a final thrust of my hips, I would come hard, my body shuddering and convulsing as the crowd watched in awe. It was a routine that never failed to bring down the house,
and it quickly became my signature move. And because I was always the last stripper of the night, the Wolfman made me the main event of his club, the one everyone.
Stayed to see.
It was a position of honor and one I took very seriously. As I danced on stage, my naked body on full display for all to see, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction in knowing that I was bringing pleasure and joy to those who watched me. The way their eyes roamed over my curves, the way they licked their lips and adjusted themselves as they took in the sight of my bare breasts and
exposed pussy. It was a powerful feeling, knowing that I had the ability to turn them on, to make them want me with nothing more than my body and my dance. And when I saw the stage rain dollar bills, the tangible proof of their satisfaction and approval, it was like a drug, a high unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Each crumpled bill was a sign that I was desired, that I was good enough, that I was worthy of
their attention and their money. It made me feel like I was providing a valuable service, an erotic escape from the mundane reality of their everyday lives, and in return, they gave me the validation and acceptance I had always craved, the knowledge that I was sexy and desirable and power powerful beyond measure. As I collected the bills from the stage, my pussy still throbbing and my body covered in a sheen of sweat, I knew that I had found my
true calling, my place in the world. I was no longer just a psychiatrist, no longer just a woman with a troubled past and a lifetime of insecurity. I was a stripper, a goddess, a bringer of pleasure and joy. And I had never felt more alive or more fulfilled.
Than I did in that moment.
I was one hundred percent happy doing this every night, and I never looked back once. At the start of my journey, I believed my calling was helping sick people out, But now I was helping others in a way that was gratifying for them and myself. This was my calling, and I was right where I needed to be. The stage was my sanctuary, the lights my guiding stars, and
the audience my congregation. With every sway of my hips and every seductive glance, I knew I was bringing joy and pleasure to those who watched me, and that knowledge filled me with a sense of purpose and fulfillment that I had never known before. Just when I thought I had found my calling and reached the peak of happiness and contentment in my new life, I was about to be reminded of a harsh lesson I had learned before.
Be cautious when you find yourself in a state of bliss, because that's precisely when your world is liable to be turned upside down. The universe had a way of testing me just when I least expected it, And now, as I basked in the glow of my newfound purpose, I could feel the rumblings of change on the horizon, ready to shake the very foundation of the life I had built. You are listening to episode twelve of Into Deep, which is called I Like Them Open. This is a sixteen
part series. I'm your host, Maximum Jones. We'll take a quick break for some messages, and then on our story will continue.
Time stories with Euros Maximin Jones. Before we continue this episode, we wanted to issue a quick disclaimer. The content in this story contains graphic explicit sexual material. That is solely and only intended for audience members over the age of eighteen years and now adults only. For our episodes here on sex time Stories. Every questions or comments, please feel free to reach out to us at sex time Stories
at outlook dot com. Also, of you, please consider helping us out tremendously by becoming a paid supporting subscriber to sex Time Stories. This would go a long way to help us produce new content, and as a bonus to y'aw, you gain exclusive access to episodes and stories only available for our subscribers, so please give that some consideration.
One night, after another successful performance, the Wolfman took me aside and asked me how I was feeling about the last two months and my impact.
On the club.
I thought for a moment before answering, wanting to be completely honest with him. I've never been happier, I told him, my voice filled with conviction. I feel like I've finally found my purpose, my place in the world. I love dancing, I love the rush of being on stage, and I love knowing that I'm bringing joy and pleasure to the people who.
Come to watch me.
It's like a dream come true. The Wolfman nodded, a smile playing at his lips, but then his expression grew serious. I'm glad to hear that, he said, but I need you to remember something. Being satisfied is the beginning of being stagnant, and stagnation prohibits progression. We've made a difference here, yes, but there are still thousands of women out there who are being taken advantage of sexually in strip clubs and sex rings. If we're going to make a real difference,
we need to keep pushing forward. I nodded, my mind racing as I took in his words.
What did you have in mind?
I asked, ready to follow him wherever he led. He smiled, a glint of excitement in his eyes. I just recently got my hands on a club in Las Vegas, he said. I want us to set it up as soon as possible, to show the world that there's a better way to do things. It won't be easy, but I believe in you, and I believe in what we're doing.
Are you with me?
I didn't hesitate for a second. Absolutely, I told him my voice firm and strong, I'm with you all the way.
Let's do this.
Las Vegas had never been my kind of town. It thrived on unchecked indulgence, a wasteland where people descended, chasing fantasies, only to leave hollow, broken and drained of more than just money. Excess ruled every neon lit corner, and morality was nothing but an afterthought, buried beneath roulette wheels and champagne toasts. The city glittered like a jewel, but its shine masked deep fractures, souls devoured by their own appetites.
To me, walking into Vegas felt less like entering paradise and more like stepping willingly into a predator's lair. I understood why he wanted to open his version of a strip club in a place where morality was scarce, But the truth was what we were doing wasn't moral either. It felt good and wrong at the same time. We cared for the strippers more than they were used to,
but that didn't make us righteous, nor should it. I was so in love with the Wolfman that even as I questioned the intent behind his decisions, I was still willing to go along with whatever he.
Wanted to do.
You want to know how much I was in love with him, I called him the Wolfman, not out of whimsy but necessity. It was easier to divide him into two realms, the man of flesh, whose name I knew, and the creature of fantasy, whose shadow consumed me whole. By naming him Wolfman, I could keep him suspended in that liminal space between myth and reality, where his allure remained untarnished. It allowed me to indulge in the intoxication of his mystery without letting the brute light of reality
strip it away. To me, reality had always been merciless, patients, lost failures, haunting like ghosts, So why not cling to illusion where passion and danger thrived. By separating who he was from who he appeared to be, I created a safe distance for my soul even as my body surrendered. I was worried about who would take care of my home and possessions while we were in Las Vegas, but Wolfman didn't stress over such details. For him, arranging someone to look after both my place and his strip club
in San Francisco was simple. He quickly found someone trustworthy to handle everything while I was gone. A man I had never seen before was designated to run the strip club in our absence.
I didn't ask.
Any questions, though maybe I should have, since that choice would later become a problem. For the moment, though, I was lost in prayerful fantasy, and it felt amazing. I had just gotten comfortable stripping at the club in San Francisco, so the idea of starting over in a new Las
Vegas club didn't exactly thrill me. Still, my confidence was high, and I truly believed at that point that what we were doing mattered, not just for ourselves, but for the betterment of the industry and the many young women working in it. I didn't share his grand belief that we were saving the world, but I did feel we were doing our part to make life in the industry a little better. Although I had lived relatively close to Las Vegas, I had never visited before. What struck me first was
the overwhelming brightness, even in the daytime. It wasn't a pleasant glow, but an excess of light that felt almost blinding. This city is built on excess, and it's immediately obvious if the Wolfman planned to save the world, beginning in a place like this would give him a strong head start in achieving his goal. Opportunities appeared on every street corner, with vendors selling everything from mini mouse pictures to show tickets.
The sidewalks were filled with people smoking marijuana, and the whole place felt dirty, not in a playful or provocative way, but simply filthy. The Wolfman took me up and down the strip to take it all in. I quickly realized why he did this. He wanted me to feel sick and overwhelmed. He wanted me to get a good grasp of what was wrong with the city. It was a chew you up taste and then immediately spit you out
type place, and I didn't like it. So of course this made it easier for me to be convinced that we should do something to make it better, even if looking back at that now, that was definitely delusional. After touring the Vegas Strip, we entered one of the city's extravagant hotels and headed straight for the elevator. Using a special code, we accessed the private top floor where the Wolfman's friends were living. Calling their sweet massive hardly captured
just how incredible it truly looked. They offered every imaginable luxury, the very.
Height of excess. Without my asking.
I was led to a private bathroom where two girls undressed me and gave me a deep, sensual massage that stopped just short of my most private areas, even as my body ached for more. They stood before me like living sculptures, their flawless curves gleaming beneath the soft light, breasts full and inviting hips etched with seductive perfection. Not a single imperfection marred their bodies, every detail honed as
if carved by desire itself. The careful grooming of their most intimate places revealed just enough to tease to entice without surrendering entirely to the gaze. They had obvious folds on their vaginas that stayed tight and pink, and left one to imagine the pleasure behind those vaginal walls. Their silence only deepened the intensity, a wordless allure that hung heavy in the air, making their presence feel more like a ritual, an erotic moment crafted to unsettle and intoxicate
in equal measures. They gently placed me in a large garden tub with jacuzzi jets and soothe salts that instantly refreshed and revitalized My skin. Alone in the steaming water, a restless hunger stirred beneath my skin, one that the massage had awakened but not satisfied. My fingers danced across the sensitive flesh between my thighs, each caress sending ripples of electric pleasure through my body. I surrendered myself to
the building urge, my breath coming in short gasps. As the intensity grew, I had to touch it.
I wanted my pussy to tingle.
Even as the tremors of one climax subsided, I craved more, my fingers seeking out new sensations, desperate to prolong the pleasurable torture. I put my fingers back over my clit and rubbed it with intensity, desperate to feel that sensation once more. I was lost in a haze of pure carnal need, my body yearning for the ecstasy that only
complete and utter abandon could provide. I was having fun until the two naked girls returned, reaching for my hands and guiding my satisfied naked body out of the tub. They wrapped me in the softest robe I had ever felt, and escorted me into the main room, where the Wolfman and his two well dressed acquaintances awaited my arrival. One of the men began to speak. I didn't think this was possible. You are way more beautiful in person than any of the many videos we have of you dancing.
You truly are the true definition of a piece of art, he continued, sipping on his drink. I didn't know what to expect at this point. Was the Wolfman leading me into this room to introduce me to his two acquaintances so they could have their way with me. I really hoped that wasn't the case, as I wanted to believe that the Wolfman cherished me deeply and was just as madly in love with me as I was with him.
The mere thought of another man laying a finger on me should have been some thing he would never even entertain. My love for him was so profound that I would comply with any request he made, even if it went against my desires, and this was certainly not something I wanted to do at this juncture in my life. There was only one man who could bring me happiness, and there was only one man whose touch I craved. The Wolfman was my everything, and I yearned for him to
feel the same way about me. The idea of being shared with others made my heart ache, and I silently prayed that his intentions were pure and that he would keep me for himself alone. I held onto the hope that our love was as strong and exclusive as I believed it to be, and that he would never put me in a position that would compromise the sanctity of
our bond. The men in suits continued to eye me like a piece of meat, but I would soon discover that their hungry looks were not driven by sexual urges.
Rather, it was.
Something equally powerful, if not more so. Their insatiable desire for money and the power it brings drove them to constantly accumulate wealth.
They looked at me like attempting.
Thousand dollars bill, their eyes filled with a mixture of lust and greed. While the attention could be sexually arousing, it also left me feeling uneasy and frightened. For the first time in a while, I felt uncomfortable, sensing that something was off, but not understanding why. The man in the suit began discussing business with the Wolfman, and their plan to civilize the sex industry in Las Vegas started
to unfold. The man said that all the partners had contributed the money and prepared a location equipped with everything the Wolfman had requested. The venue was ready to open the following night and available for our use. The Wolfman grinned broadly as he shook hands with the two men. The suited men began to speak. It's going to take a while, he said. There's going to be resistance, but in the end, all of us will be wealthier. The
ladies will be in better positions too. This will be like a corporate industry that makes investors happy with financial gain while also providing all the perks and benefits these young ladies deserve for getting our dicks so hard. The three men shared a big laugh at his conclusion.
I still didn't.
Understand their mission, but frankly, I didn't care. I was having the time of my life, on a fantasy ride, living out my deepest desires while on a romantic journey with the man I was deeply in love with. If these deluded individuals wanted to believe they were saving the industry and women worldwide, that was their prerogative. I had the best of both worlds, and as long as I was enjoying myself, their motives were irrelevant to me. A butler entered and informed me that I could order anything
I wanted for lunch and they would provide it. The Wolfman and the other two men retreated to a separate room. They remained there long enough for me to order and finish my meal, which consisted of a specially prepared lobster and steak. As we headed to the elevator, the Wolfman motioned for me to get ready to leave. One of the men yelled out, laughing and raising his glass. So tonight we are on to see Grandma.
Right.
The Wolfman nodded in approval. As we made our way downstairs and back onto the strip, I asked the Wolfman to explain the meaning behind what we had just witnessed. We will be on our way to meet with an influential investor known for his keen eye for portfolio boosting opportunities. He has expressed interest in our innovative strip club centers, and my two friends were confident that he is prepared to invest in our vision.
He explained.
I was intrigued by his question about seeing Grandma, wondering if he had family here in Las Vegas. What's up with asking if I'm ready to see Grandma?
I asked.
He spoke in a cryptic voice, dismissing it as nothing more than a show just like the ones back Home at the Dungeon. Well, welcome to episode twelve of Into Deep, a sixteen part series. I'm your host, Maximum Jones. We'll take a quick break for some messages and then our story will continue.
Have stories with your host Maximin Jones. Before we continued this episode, we wanted to issue a quick disclaimer. The content in this story contains graphic explicit sexual material that is solely and only intended for audience members over the age of eighteen years and up adults only. For our episodes here on sex Time Stories. Every questions or comments, please feel free to reach out to us at sex
time Stories at outlook dot com. Also, of you it, please consider helping us out tremendously by becoming a paid supporting subscriber to sex Time Stories. This would go a long way to help us produce new content, and as a bonus to y'all, you gain exclusive access to episodes and stories only available for our subscribers, So please give that some consideration.
It feels like an eternity since I last set foot in the Dungeon, I thought I would miss it more than I actually have. But the truth is I haven't even given it a second thought. I suppose I used to frequent that place because it fulfilled my deepest sexual fantasies. I'm sure you all remember I witnessed and participated in some of the most bizarre, twisted, and perverted acts imaginable. There were moments when I felt like I had pushed the boundaries too far, and I wasn't sure if I
would make it out of there alive. It almost seemed as if I had stumbled upon something that was too dangerous to be privy to. Yet throughout it all, I was consumed by an intense heat and arousal. My pussy juices were boiling, and my desires and fantasies were taken to new heights. I will never forget my experiences at the Dungeon or the strip club in the Red Light District where I used to watch Buttercup perform. Ever since I started stripping, I've been thinking about her a lot.
She became my inspiration for so many reasons, and I often wonder if she managed to leave the industry with her mind and body intact. I've thought about how she would benefit from what the Wolfman and I are trying to accomplish. This is perfect for women like her, who possess so much talent but have been seen as mere financial assets until now. Listen to me, I sound just like the Wolfman.
I guess.
I now believe that I'm saving the world by giving up my psychiatry license and stripping in these fancy clubs that my boyfriend is creating. As I mentioned earlier, right now, I'd rather live in a fantasy. I sometimes wonder if I'm hallucinating, perhaps from the drugs the Wolfman slipped me over the past few months. Maybe this is all a dream, or I died and this is my fantasy before reaching
my final destination. But the idea of this being a fantasy was dispelled when we arrived in downtown Las Vegas. Seeing today's paper with the current date and hearing people discuss current events confirmed this is reality. Downtown Las Vegas is rich with history. To truly experience the city, I recommend spending time on these streets rather than the corporate strip. The area is filled with the spirit of legends like
the rat Pack, whose posters still adorn the walls. Downtown Las Vegas is where the authentic Vegas vibe lives on.
Stay close to.
Me and remain calm. You're not in familiar territory anymore. I can't emphasize enough how exclusive this event is. Avoid making eye contact with anyone and focus solely on the stage.
He continued his instructions.
Adding a warning, what you're about to witness on that stage is disturbing.
Prepare yourself.
The Wolfman's words sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine as we approached the exclusive venue. His warning about the disturbing nature of the performance on stage only heightened my curiosity and excitement. Despite my initial belief that I did not miss the dungeon and its twisted acts, I found myself eager to witness whatever depraved spectacle awaited us.
As we entered the dimly lit space, the wolf ff Men's firm grip on my hand reminded me to stay close and avoid making eye contact with the other patrons. The air was thick with tension and a sense of forbidden secrets. I could hardly contain my intrigue as I wondered what kind of messed up display I was about to witness. Little did I know the events that would unfold on that stage would push the boundaries of even
my darkest fantasies. I complied with his request, avoiding eye contact as we were seated in a private, dimly lit area boxed off from most of the staging area. The brightest lights were on stage, making it difficult to see more than feet ahead, which made his concern about eye contact seem unnecessary given the low visibility. Drinks were promptly served and we were joined by the two men from the hotel suite and a new gentleman of European descent.
He was tall, with gray hair of beard and striking blue eyes. Intuitively, I knew it was best not to make eye contact with him, as it could lead to unfavorable consequences for me in the long run. The three men moved to the side in our private viewing area, still close by, I stayed in the front.
With a clear view of the stage.
The dim lighting in the rest of the area was immediately cut off as the stage lights became brighter than ever. Six naked men of different races entered onto the stage, wearing a mask and their cocks fully erect. As they stood in a circle, they began stroking their cocks as old nineteen twenties music began loudly playing through the PA system, with people in the crowd starting to clap in the rhythm. As the eerie nineteen twenties music filled the air, a
hush fell over the audience. An elderly woman, frail and wrinkled, was wheeled down the aisle and up a ramp onto the stage. The six naked men, their erect cocks standing at attention, intensified their stroking as she was helped out of the chair and handed a cane. Slowly, she made her way to the center of the circle, the men's
eager eyes following her every move. The atmosphere was charged with a disturbing mix of anticipation and revulsion as the old woman's presence added a twisted element to the already shocking display. At first, I couldn't help but chuckle, convinced that the bizarre scene before me was nothing more than an elaborate ruse, complete with prosthetics and heavy makeup. However, as I grabbed the binoculars provided on the side of my chair and took a closer look, my amusement quickly
transformed into shock and disbelief. The realization hit me like a punch to the gun. This was no illusion, but a very real elderly woman, likely in her early seventies. I shot a glance back at the Wolfman and his associates, desperately seeking some sort of explanation for the disturbing display unfold before us. Yet they remained engrossed in their conversation, seemingly unfazed by the grotesque spectacle on stage. Having witnessed countless depraved acts during my time at the Dungeon, I
thought I had seen it all. But this, this was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The mere thought of what might happen next filled me with a sense of dread and revulsion. There was nothing even remotely erotic about the sight of an old lady surrounded by six virile men, at least not to me. The crowd clapped in rhythm to the depression era music blaring from the
PA system. The old woman, met with approval, ditched her cane and slowly removed her top, leaving her in just her bra She then tugged at her pullaway skirt, which quickly fell from her body. Now she stood in the middle of the circle of men, wearing only her bra and panties. The men continued stroking their erect cocks. She walked past each one, taking her hand to their mouth and blowing them a kiss, while provocatively prancing around the circle, still in her bra and panties. A bed was brought
onto the stage. Two younger women placed her on the bed, spreading her legs open while she kept her undergarments on. In an unprecedented twist, the six men turned on each other with a primal ferocity, their fists and feet colliding in a brutal melee. The stage transformed into a gladiatorial arena, the combatants confined to the cramped space like caged beasts. As the battle raged on, a group of masked security personnel encircled the stage, ensuring that none of the men
could escape the fray. Whenever one of the fighters neared the edge, the guards would ruthlessly throw them back into the chaos, forcing them to continue their vicious struggle. The scene was reminiscent scent of ancient Rome's Colosseum, but with a perverse modern twist. The men, driven by a savage desire to assert dominance, unleashed a torrent of violence upon one another, their grunts and cries echoing through the chamber. The audience watched with a mixture of shock and fascination,
captivated by the raw, animalistic display unfolding before them. As the fight intensified, the men's bodies glistened with sweat and blood, their muscles straining with each powerful blow. The stage became a battleground, a microcosm of the primal instincts that lurked beneath the surface of civilization. In this moment, the lines between performer and spectator blurred as all were drawn into the intoxicating spectacle of unchecked aggression and the thirst for victory.
The crowd roar with approval as the old lady stayed on the bed with her legs open, but now she was touching her push under her panties and playing with her nipples under her bra The crowd roared with approval as the elderly woman lay on the bed, legs spread, teasing her private areas over her underwear. After several intense minutes, one man emerged dominant over the other five, standing victorious as the winner. The crowd's excitement grew upon his triumph.
The woman removed her bra and panties, fully exposing herself on the bed. The victor of the contest wasted no time in claiming his prize, pouncing upon the elderly woman with a fierce intensity, His buttocks clenched and released with each powerful thrust, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing through the chamber. The intense way he was fucking this old lady was jaw dropping. The old lady's cries of pain mingled with the man's guttural grunts, creating a disturbing
symphony that both repulsed and captivated the audience. Despite the undenial eroticism of the scene, there was an undercurrent of concern, a nagging worry that the frail woman might not withstand the force of this primal, violent fucking. The contrast between the man's youthful vigor and the woman's aged fragility only heightened the sense of unease, leaving the onlookers both mesmerized and unsettled by the raw, animalistic display unfolding before them.
The man then flipped her over, putting her on her knees with her face towards the crowd. Her eyes were filled with anticipation, and concern. He then crunched over, slipped his cock in her from behind, and began pounding her hard as her eyes bulged out of their sockets. She was screaming in pain and struggling to breathe as he groaned like a wild animal from behind, thrusting into her with.
All his might. A guttural moan of.
Pleasure escaped the man's lips as he gripped the elderly woman's hips, driving his cock as deep as it could go, pulsating inside her. Once finished, he collapsed atop her, his weight, pinning her down for several minutes. An eerie silence fell over the crowd, and I couldn't help but wonder if the old woman had survived the brutal encounter. Given the unsettling stillness on stage, the other men gathered around the bed as the man who had just finished fucking her
climbed off and flipped her onto her back. She smiled reassuringly at the crowd, letting them know she was completely fine. It became clear that this was what she was known for, the grandma who could take a hard pounding from a younger man, despite the apparent pain etched on her face during the act. She always managed to flash a grin once the deed was done, as if to confirm that
this was exactly what she signed up for. The remaining five men began stroking their erect cocks vigorously as they positioned themselves around the elderly woman, who lay sprawled on the bed with her legs spread open. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of lust and anticipation, eager to unleash their pent up desires upon the willing participant. The atmosphere grew thick with tension as the men prepared to take
their turn, their bodies taut with barely contained excitement. The old lady, despite her advanced age, seemed to revel in the attention, her weathered features etched with a perverse sense of satisfaction.
She opened her.
Mouth wide as the first man had a heavy load shoot out of his cock and down onto her face as she attempted to get as much as she could enter her mouth so she could swallow. It didn't take long for the next man to ejaculate, and he aimed it right into her mouth as she took it all in. One by one, the remaining men reached their peak. Their seeds, spilling forth onto the elderly woman's face and into her
eager mouth. With each eruption, she smiled broadly, doing her best to swallow every drop relishing in the depraved act. Her enthusiasm never waned, even as the sticky fluid coated her weathered skin and dripped from her chin, a testament to her dedication to the perverse performance. One by one, the men finished their carnal act, yet they remained standing over the elderly woman. Slowly she rose to her knees,
a look of determination in her eyes. With deliberate intention, she took each man's cock into her mouth, a symbolic gesture of her spirit and unabashed embrace of her own desires. The room pulsed with a raw, primal energy as she continued her sensual ritual, leaving an indelible impression on all
who witnessed this unforgettable display. Five masked men entered the stage and picked up the naked woman, hoisting her high into the air like a queen, harried her to the back of the dressing room as the crowd erupted in approval. I didn't know how to feel about this. For the most part, I was disgusted it. There's nothing sexy about an old woman getting fucked like that, but my naughty side secretly thought about that being me in thirty years.
I observed the Wolfman and his associates engaged in intense conversation. As I waited for them to conclude, I ordered a few more drinks. Finally, the Wolfman approached with the European businessman and introduced us with a broad smile. The businessman declared, you are the reason this is all going to work out. He then exited the viewing area, leaving me puzzled, worried, yet excited.
All at once.
Thanks for listening to episode twelve of Into Deep, a sixteen part series. I'm your host Maximum Jones. We'll take a quick break for some messages and then our story will continue.
Next Time Stories with Euros Maximin Jones. Before we continue this episode, we wanted to issue a quick disclaimer. The content in this story contains graphic, explicit sexual material that is solely and only intended for audience members over the age of eighteen years and now adults only. For our episodes here on Sex Time Stories. Every questions or comments, please feel free to reach out to us at sex
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What the fuck was that?
I quickly asked him as soon as we got into the hotel room. What was what he said at the old lady grandma? I mean, seriously, I said, with some confusion. Here you are saying you want to change the world, but you take me to go see that. He looked at me and smiled. Don't tell me you're starting to want to settle. Are you reaching the point of your life? Or sexual excitement and gratification can no longer fill your void.
I was frustrated by his comment and shot back, I love you, but it really bothers me when you try to use psychology on me. It's like you're not respecting my knowledge. You also have a host of voids you are trying to fill. Please don't pretend that it's just me. He smiled and gently grabbed me before apologizing with a kiss on my forehead. My frustrations melted away, and I forgot all about the Grandma on stage. Tonight, we are about to go into stage two of our plan. He said,
This has happened a lot quicker than I thought. He then explained what was going to happen next. The Wolfman informed me that the Las Vegas club would open tomorrow night, and just like the one in San Francisco, he needed me to be the star of the show. I was scheduled to perform last and deliver the performance of a lifetime,
as our existence depended on it. The European looking investment guy would be closely monitoring the operations and revenue generated on opening night, using this information to decide whether to fund our expansion, first domestically and then internationally. I was overwhelmed with questions. The rapid expansion into multiple cities within a few months seemed impossible given our limited personnel. Finding trustworthy individuals to join our cause would be a challenge.
I couldn't help but wonder what the wolf Man was withholding about his network. I noticed how quickly he found someone to manage the club, in San Francisco and arranged for the care of my home and belongings. This raised a red flag for me.
I thought I.
Knew everything about him and his club in San Francisco was something special between us. Seeing how quickly he found someone else to manage made me doubt myself and wonder if I was just one of many people he used to get what he wanted. What if there was another woman, maybe in Africa, who also believed in him and gave him everything because it was important to him. I'm not sure why I suddenly started questioning his sincerity, but something
felt off. Unfortunately I wasn't strong enough to resist. The truth was simple. I was in love with him and would do whatever he asked, even if it sometimes took some convincing. The Wolfman's whisper tickled my ear, his lips brushing against my neck as he spoke the words that sent a shiver down my spine. I need for you to dance without the mask tomorrow night. My heart raced at the thought, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing
through my veins. I had always worn the mask while performing a protective shield between me and the hungry eyes of the audience. But now he was asking me to bear myself completely, to strip away that final barrier and reveal myself to the world. I thought we agreed that when I do this, I would always wear the mask for my protection. I protested, my voice trembling slightly. Why the sudden change. He pulled me close, his strong arms wrapping around me in a reassuring embrace. Look, darling, it's
just for tomorrow night. I need your absolute best performance. He explained that the investor wanted to see me strip without the mask, that it was his request. We need him to be happy and fund us, he murmured, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.
It's okay.
I'm going to take care of you, and if we get his funding, we're going to take care of a lot of people who need our help. I repeatedly expressed my discomfort with being unmasked, as it left me feeling vulnerable and insecure. I doubted my ability to perform if my identity was known, fearing that my anxiety would overwhelm
me without the safety of the mask. Despite my concerns, he smiled reassuringly and continued kissing my neck, reaching into his pocket he retrieved another vial of the mysterious substance. The drug that had previously sent me into a daze caused auditory hallucinations, but also provided confidence and total relaxation. He kept pushing the drug towards my nose, despite my refusals. His kisses intensified up and down my neck, weakening my resolve.
As the pleasure increased just one sniff, he urged, holding it to my nose. Against my better judgment, I closed my eyes and inhaled. The next thing I remember was darkness. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, my mind was filled with a series of vivid, sexually charged hallucinations, each one more intense than the last. In the first, I saw the Wolfman on top of me, his naked body pressed against mine as he fucked me hard and deep.
I could feel the closeness and intimacy between us, the way our bodies fit together perfectly, and I begged him to come inside me.
To fill me with his seed.
But then the scene shifted and I found myself watching Buttercups stripping on a pole, her body undulating to the beat of the music.
I tried to approach.
Her to offer her a spot at the Las Vegas strip club, but she ran away from me, disappearing into the darkness. My eyes open and again, and I was back with the Wolfman, his body still on top of mine as he pushed deep inside me, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he groaned with pleasure and emptied himself into my willing pussy. I dozed off again, and when I woke up, I was on a stage, bright lights shining down on me. As I began to touch my breasts,
my hands roaming over my naked flesh. I spotted two giant screens hanging from the ceiling, displaying all the activities on the stage as they were being filmed, and I felt a sense of immediate anxiety as I saw myself on the screen, exposed and vulnerable for.
All to see.
But then the scene shifted again and I found myself masturbating on the stripping stage, my fingers sliding in and out of my wet heat as the crowd.
Cheered me on.
I could feel the tension building in my bar now, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, until finally I reached my climax, my body shuddering and convulsing as I came hard and fast, the cheers of the crowd washing over me, and then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and I found myself awake, back in the hotel room, naked and alone in the dark, with my legs wide open, the voices in my head swirling around
me like a tempest. I tried to hold onto consciousness to make sense of what had just happened, but it was too much, and I felt myself slipping away again, and my eyes closing as I drifted off into the darkness once more. One has a price? What is yours?
What this concludes? I Like them Open?
Which is episode twelve of the Into Deep series. There are sixteen episodes for this one, and episode thirteen will air in two weeks, and that one is called What's Inside Me.
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This is joes fax from Jones. We will see you for the next chapter, but until then enjoy yourselves. We'll see you soon in seven oclof, in studied call, in sevenfold, in seven fa in suden On in sevenfold,