Losing in Vegas
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2010 by Lubrican

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - A newly married couple goes to Vegas for their honeymoon and gets in deep. In more ways than one. His attitude about things gets him in even deeper. Well not HIM, exactly.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Coercion   Heterosexual   Cuckold   Interracial   Oral Sex   Pregnancy  

They weren't finished yet.

After he fucked her full of cum and was still trying to fuck her some more, the director screamed "cut!" and then yelled at Chuck because the money shot was supposed to be of him pulling out to show he was shooting. He pulled out then, and pointed at Amanda's puffy, gaping pussy lips.

"Shoot that instead," he growled.

A man darted in with a camera and the wobbling picture on the monitor stabilized, showing thick white spunk welling out of her pussy and dripping down towards her asshole as she used her internal muscles to expel his seed.

"Oh yeah," sighed the producer. "We can definitely use that. Can you get back in her so we can get a shot of you pulling out slowly? You gone limp yet? No? Excellent!"

He went the extra mile. He pulled out of Amanda slowly (I noticed they were kissing while he did this, even though it wasn't necessary) and then reached to milk one last drip out of his semen-coated cock. He dripped it right into her now empty pussy, of course. I knew they'd edit the tape so that all that cum welling out of her pussy would look like it came right after that part.

They waited fifteen minutes, while Amanda and Chuck sat, naked, chatting like old friends and drinking bottles of water. Then she stood up and took Chuck's hand, bringing him back to the bed.

"We'll get you your money shot now," she said.

And they filmed him fucking her again.

This time they were fucking to produce a spurting prick for the camera. It was obvious they both enjoyed it, but there was no talking. Not for the cameras anyway. I saw her whispering in his ear several times, and he sucked her neck as he humped her. She fucked him back. There was no doubt about that. Then she whispered again and I saw her lick his ear.

"Get ready!" He called out.

The cameras moved in and I saw him pulling his prick out of her. It was milky again, apparently from his last ejaculation. He must have cum buckets in her. He didn't even have to jack off. He just pulled out and let the tip hang an inch from her wide open pussy and then shot the dark tunnel full of his spunk. Her hand appeared, gripping his prick, and pulled it towards her already full pussy. The camera saw her plug him back in, and recorded half of his long, black stick pushing all that cum up into her womb, until his body blocked the shot.

The camera man knew his job, even though this was obviously a departure from the script. He backed up a bit and framed the black body covering the slim white woman hump her some more. I thought of an oil well, pumping and pumping and pumping, except this one was pumping something white into my wife, instead of something black out of the ground.

Then I thought of the irony that he was black, and that what he was putting into my wife that was white now, might come out of her fertile belly as something black, later on.

That was when I felt the first tears of remorse running down my cheeks. That was when I realized how much I had fucked up. She would never have done this except as a result of my own stupid actions. I had driven her to it.


They still weren't finished. Which meant Amanda's script wasn't finished. They filmed the bride, waking up in the morning with her husband, who had the mother of all hangovers. She coaxed him out of bed and the camera zoomed in on streaks of cum smearing the insides of her thighs. Her husband strutted, proclaiming that he must have done her proud, even if he couldn't remember it.

"Oh you did, honey," she cooed. "I wish I could have that every night."

"You will, baby," he boasted, patting the front of his tidy whities.

"Not today, though," she sighed. "You stretched me so much I'm sore!"

They did a whirlwind of very short shots of the happy couple going shopping, and into a museum, and eating lunch and sightseeing in Vegas. Then they had the two of them dress for dancing that night. Of course most of the time the camera was on Amanda as she stripped down and then dressed again. She picked up bra and panties, looked at them, and then tossed them on the bed before slipped into a peasant blouse and loose skirt. She put on sandals. Her husband's shots were of him sneaking airline bottles of booze from the little refrigerator in the room, already drinking too much.

He completed the job in the bar, slumping over the table while Amanda danced with other men, including the band leader, who pulled her into a darkened hallway where he pulled her peasant blouse down and sucked at her nipples before pushing her up against the wall and fucking up into her. The camera showed her toes, barely touching the floor, bouncing up and down, and then centered on his cum dripping from her pussy when they broke apart.

Again he helped her take her husband upstairs, but this time they dumped him in a chair and used all of the bed while he bred her three times. The talk that time was of breeding, as he asked her if she really was fertile, and really was ovulating, and really was letting him impregnate her. Her answers were always positive.

In the end, just before he came the last time, he said "You should dump that loser and stay with me. I'd treat you right."

"I should," she said. "After all, if I'm going to have your baby, I should have you too."

The final shot was of Chuck carrying her suitcase out of the room, while she tossed her wedding gown and ring on top of her drunken, sleeping husband.


They let me loose after Amanda disappeared into her dressing room. My jaw ached, and my wrists were raw where the cuffs had dug into them. The evidence of my no doubt criminal imprisonment was destroyed immediately. The handcuffs were unbolted and taken away and the wall carried out of the studio. Nobody stopped me from going to her dressing room, but the door was locked. I knocked. She opened it. She had on panties, but that was all. "Let me get dressed. Then I need a shower and then we can talk."

I sat on a chair and watched her cover her nakedness with a T shirt and jeans. Her young, boyish figure looked good. It had always looked good when I used it. But now I knew what it could look like if she was fully involved.

Apparently the details of payment and all that had already been worked out, because when we left, the studio was bare of people, and Amanda didn't seem surprised. We rode up the elevator in silence. I keyed the door with my card and we walked into the VIP suite we had been given when we arrived on our honeymoon.

The shower was already running.

I put my hand out to stop her, but she pushed through it.

 
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