Getting Lucky

by juanwildone

Copyright© 2008 by juanwildone

Erotica Sex Story: A video gone viral transforms my life. you should be so lucky.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   .

Chapter One

"Oh my God! You're the 'Getting Lucky Guy.' I just love your ... your... (You Tube celebrity generally occurs without any direct association of talent, so confusion isn't unexpected.) You ... are ... so ... funny (when in doubt - funny works.) Wow, it's true - you really are bigger in real life."

She giggled at the 'bigger' comment and gave me the once over (twice). I'm still not used to that because until two months ago I wasn't the guy most girls looked at once ... I'm just a average guy. I mean how does a typical college senior become one of the hottest ... what did she just say?

"My mons - will you sign it - I shaved it today?" Her glazed over leer said - "YOU CAN FUCK ME RIGHT NOW!" Of course, the sexy way she was chewing her bottom lip suggesting a fondness for oral delights didn't hurt her case. She looked strangely familiar, maybe I'd seen her on campus or something.

"It'll be my pleasure to sign your ... mons (thank god she mentioned the shaving part, I wasn't sure where she was asking me to sign. I've signed hands, arms, butts, and boobs; this would be a first) ... but maybe we should find a place a little less public." I was quickly led through a series of doors, hallways, and rooms - until the sounds of the party were no longer heard. We stepped into a small 'we won't be bothered here' bedroom. I was just about to introduce myself - no names had yet been exchanged - when I heard the distinctive sound of a Levi's snap followed by a slowing lowering zipper - that is a sound that has become music to my ears.

Okay then - first things first - I do have certain responsibilities to my fans. By any reasonable measurement my fifteen minutes of fame is definitely into overtime - still I wouldn't want to leave like a bad taste in anybody's mouth (Yeah, I know, a shameless pun on my part. The simple facts are you wouldn't believe what you can get away with as a celebrity - it's awesome.)

Autograph-girl had her jeans down to mid-thigh before I could speak. Yep, she was a smoothie, no doubt about that. She waved a Sharpie pen in front of my face. I grabbed the pen, knelt down and prepared to sign her flawlwss skin. I shifted my position again and again 'sorry can't quite get the right angle, I want it to be perfect for you.'

Oh the pure joy of an uninhibited female! My comment caused her to roll back onto the bed, lift her legs high - her cunt glistening in arousal (my cock hardening with mine) - and pushed her jeans and panties off her legs. Her legs came back down spread slightly apart. When her feet hit the floor her hips arched slightly, her labia parted and I was treated to a view of slick, pink perfection. "Is this better?"

"Is this better?" My God she actually said "Is this better?" I answered by leaning forward and licking the short length of her cunt with a purposeful swipe of my tongue. I repeated twice more and gave her swelling clit a good hard suck between my lips and a quick strumming with my tongue.

"Oh shit!" was her reply, her knees lifting was her reaction. I gripped the backs of her knees and pushed forward opening her sex completely. 'Oh shits' became 'oh fucks' and finally a garbled collection of moans, squeals, groans, teeth clenched inhalations and explosive exhalations as I knelt between her legs and ate her to a squealing orgasm.

Score: Orgasm her - 1. Orgasm me - 0.

I straightened, unzipped, and pushed my jeans to the floor. I rolled on a condom (the last two months of my life made carrying a ready supply mandatory) and lined up. Damn she was tight - wet beyond reason, no doubt after my oral assault - but as tight as I'd ever encountered. I pushed forward and her body began to yield.

"Oh fuck! You're fucking ... oh shit ... oh fuck ... me. Oh ... oh."

She certainly wasn't the most inarticulate girl I'd ever been with - but she was close. I almost thought she was going to say 'no' to fucking so I backed off on the forward pressure and switched to a series of short, quick thrusts with just the head of my dick in her. Thank God she finally said the magic word 'more.' I pushed deeper and deeper until I filled her just bumping her cervix on my deepest thrusts.

With her heels on my shoulders I fucked her through a second orgasm. I rolled her onto her knees and got a third cum out of her by grinding the base of my cock on her clit. Which turned out to be a mistake on my part as she lunged forward pulling off of me, apologizing as she exclaimed her over-sensitivity to further stimulation. I was disappointed until she spun around and pulled off the condom and had me ejaculating into her mouth in less than a minute.

Score: Orgasms her - 3. Orgasms me - 1. Funny how I considered myself the winner.

"I got lucky, glg (Getting Lucky Guy)" was signed across her mons. I blew softly on the black ink (completely unnecessary, but a nice touch none-the-less) as if to dry it. Her hips arched up again and damn if that cute little clit of hers didn't make a re-appearance. I was sorely tempted.

"You can do it again if you want." That was a very appealing invitation from Heather (we'd finally exchanged names - and let me tell you this, there is something wildly satisfying to a man's ego about learning a girl's name as she's wiping a dribble of spunk off her chin.) My cock began to stir and I thought 'why not?'

When we'd first entered the bedroom had been dimly light by a solitary wall sconce. Heather had turned on the room lights when I signed her mons (I guess she wanted to make sure I did it right.) After signing I glanced around the room to get my bearings (I was thinking that if there was a decent full length mirror I might sit on the edge of the bed and have her straddle me facing forward - a sexy visual never hurt to inspire a round two. Add her seeing my cock in her and my autograph spread across her mons seemed to have real erotic potential.)

The bedroom lights being on was illuminating to say the least. I saw the mirror covered closet doors opposite the bed Heather was reclining on - so far so good. Then I saw the collection of stuffed animals and a smattering of posters of 'pop tarts' and young shirtless guys; none of who I recognized. I looked at Heather, a suddenly very young looking Heather, and thought 'OH SHIT!' As quickly as I could while still looking cool and detached I pulled up my jeans saying I really should get back to the party.

"Okay - I'm kinda tired anyway." (Not to mention drunk, her kiss [post signing] was almost a drink by itself) She asked if I needed her to show me the way back to the main part of the house. I said I'd find my way back. I left as she was scooting under the covers of her bed. I turned out the lights - 'SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!'

"Oh there you are." My left arm was quickly entangled with my hostess' arm (yes, Heather's mom and now I knew why Heather had looked somewhat famiilar - family photos on my publicity agents desk. Oh, and a photo of mom and dad on her night stand - yikes) I was directed over to a group of women. "Here he is!"

"OH MY GAWD! It is him!" Being referred in person in the third person is part of your fifteen minutes of fame. Here you are and yet you're not here - it's "him" - and it's really annoying.

"You wouldn't believe the turmoil your video has caused in my house. My husband calls you 'The Lucky Bastard Guy' (heard it.) My daughter and her friends think it terribly unfair - if the roles were switched..." (yeah, yeah, yeah - the whole slut/stud dichotomy) blah, blah, blah. One by one they vented their collective spleens: on me, You Tube, sex mores, and last but not least, men in general (this last bit often offered up with some variation of 'as if one man can trully satisfy one woman let alone three'.)

Okay maybe its time to explain the whole "Lucky Guy" video thing. The "VIDEO" was a project for an 'Advertising for Propaganda and Profit' class. We were supposed to take a common phrase and exploit it for either propaganda or profit - extra credit if you pulled off both.

I was stumped, not to mention uninspired. The teacher was a radical feminist who found fault with all things male and patriarchal. I was too far past the drop date to bail and stubborn enough to see the class through. What I wanted to do more than anything else was to get her good and wound up.

When inspiration came it nearly knocked me over. This is how I scripted the video.

Opening scene:

[1] Fog and steam swirl (five seconds)

[2] A red towel appears in the center of the screen and begins to move in a circular pattern gradually clearing a view in a bathroom mirror (camera pov is from behind the mirror looking out into the bathroom.)

[3] The towel is lowered and the camera sees me standing naked looking straight at the camera (the shot is from just above my head to mid thigh - a large aerosol can on the bathroom counter strategically hides my maleness.)

Off camera narrator: "Going out tonight?"

[4] I run both hands through my wet hair and slick it back. I do it again and again. At the end of the third time I pause and give my arm pits a quick sniff.

Off camera narrator: "Planning on getting lucky?"

[5] I grab the can and lift it (the camera focuses on the can, zooms in slowly so that my dick never shows. then follows the can upward.) I spray <psst> <psst> under each arm.

Off camera narrator: "Well - if you really think you're getting lucky..."

[6] I lower the can below the view of the camera (chest and head shot) <psst> <psst> and react with my eyebrows arching up, eyes widening, and mouth opening slightly. I smile.

Closing Scene:

[7] Close up of my face with a very contented smile, eyes barely open. (Camera begins a very slow pull back with my head holding to the left edge of the screen. Blond hair comes into view, then the profile of a gorgeous sleeping, smiling girl.)

Off camera narrator: "Don't you want to get lucky tonight?"

[8] The camera continues its pull back with my head slowly moving back toward the center of the screen. Black hair appears and a cute Asian girl in asleep on my left.

Off camera narrator: "Isn't it time for you to be the lucky guy?'

[9] The camera continues its pull out and a redhead appears behind the Asian girl. Camera movement stops with all four of us in bed; bras, panties and stockings scattered and hanging here and there.

Off camera narrator: "Get Lucky! body spray for the guy that's going to..."

[10] A can of "Get Lucky" fades in over my image. The cap is a hemispherical dome giving it the look of a huge dildo.

Fade to black.

I got the extra credit.

Then somebody (it sure as hell wasn't me!) uploaded the video to You Tube.

Chapter Two

Interestingly - the original buzz swirled around the girls - "Who are the Getting Lucky girls?" Well - truth be told - they were local models, chosen primarily for their long hair (I hate short hair on women.) Oh they were cute enough and all, but they were just pretty faces with great hair. Then in the relentless manner of the net - nude (professional, very tasteful, but very nude) black and white photos of the redhead got posted. Soon there was a universal cry for nude pics of the blonde and the Asian. Penthouse offered big bucks for a photo shot (I wasn't asked, just the girls.)

Then Playboy called (they insisted on including me - God Bless you Hugh Hefner) for an on-line only shoot and the rest as they say is history.

The Jimmy Kimmel Show called at the end of the photo shoot and had us all on. They showed the video and then introduced the girls first. Then I came out. I should point out that I'm just over 6'4"(I played NCAA Div II volleyball until I trashed my knee) which never mattered until I was standing next to and shaking Jimmy's hand. Jimmy said, "You're much taller than I expected."

Janelle (the redhead/airhead - God Bless her) said, "We all thought he was bigger then expected too."

There is more of this story...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account