The Charity Calendar Got a Private Edition

—What would you think if I signed up for a bukkake?

I dropped the question on him like that, out of nowhere, on a Friday night when we were stretched out in bed watching a movie whose title I don’t even remember anymore. I would have paid to record the look on his face, that expression of someone whose dog has just asked him for a beer. I laughed to myself while he tried to put together a coherent answer.

—You? On your own? —Mateo stammered before collecting himself.

—On my own, of course not —I replied with a sneer as I stretched out to reach his phone, charging on the bedside table.

—Right… I mean without me —he clarified, never taking his eyes off me.

—Here, come on, I was joking —I told him, handing the phone back with the Lovense app already open—. Connect the toy, I want to show you something.

I got out of bed just enough to switch on the toy I’d had buried in my cunt for half an hour, and took the opportunity to grab my work laptop, hidden between the bed base and the table. When I slipped back under the duvet, Mateo was looking at me as if a ghost had walked into the room, half aroused, half frightened of what was coming next. I put my hand over the bulge in his boxers and felt his cock harden at the first touch.

—The night seems to be full of surprises —he said, fiddling with the phone.

—You have no idea how full —I replied breathlessly when the dildo started vibrating to the rhythm he chose, pushing me against the walls of my already soaked cunt.

—Do you remember the charity calendar we did at the office?

—How could I forget? —he answered as one answers a rhetorical question.

Impossible not to remember. Twelve employees, me among them, posing lightly dressed for a charity cause. The shoot was fun, professional, and the photographer, a woman named Carolina, knew how to make all of us feel comfortable in front of the lens. The result was elegant, almost modest: the month lettering and the props covered just enough that no employee had to appear fully naked.

—The thing is, I was assigned December, I was the last one on the last day —I told him—, and I came up with an idea I thought you’d love. I had doubts about how to pitch it to Carolina, but she thought it was so funny she offered to help.

I opened the laptop and went into my email client. On the desktop there was a folder called “Dart Game.” I double-clicked it. Twenty-odd emails from different senders appeared, all with one thing in common: the clip icon showing an attachment.

—I thought of it —I went on— that, being communications director and having access to the international employee directory, some very select colleagues might enjoy a private edition of the December month. I sent it from an account I opened just for this: curvyspotted.

Mateo looked at me as if he were asking for a more precise explanation, so I gave it to him without words. I opened the file saved on the desktop: a very high-resolution photograph, ready to be printed in A3. In it I appeared in two poses, one from the front and one from the back. What set it apart from a mugshot was that in both I was completely naked, with hard nipples and my shaved cunt on full display.

From the front, I was there with my mouth slightly open, my right index finger pointing at my nipple and the left at my shaved pussy. From the back, one hand on my waist and the other spreading one cheek of my ass, showing the pink little hole. In Photoshop I had added grids and scores, as if it were a target board: minus two hundred in the eye, plus two hundred in the mouth, fifty on the nipples, twenty-five on each breast, one hundred on the vulva. From behind, minus four hundred in the hair, one hundred on each cheek and two hundred in the cleft, right over the ass.

And underneath, the text I had written and read aloud a hundred times: “Guys, here’s something special for you, because I still don’t feel like getting dressed. Take it out, start jerking off, and pick your target. Are you going to aim your cock at my mouth, my tits, my cunt, or my ass? Do you already have it hard and in your sights? Good, now pound it and shoot your load wherever you can. The winner will receive a magnificent prize. Good luck.”

—You’re fucking insane —Mateo told me, his cock fully outlined beneath the boxers.

—It’s just a game. You love games —I replied, slipping my hand under the waistband and grabbing him bare-handed. He was hot, thick, throbbing in my fist. I gave him a couple of slow strokes, squeezing the head with my thumb each time I came up, while the toy kept buzzing inside me—. See how hard you get just from hearing it?

—And who was the winner? What was the prize? —he asked in a rush, moving his hips against my hand.

—No hurry. I wanted us to read the replies together. But first, take that fucking boxer off already.

He did it in less than three seconds. His cock sprang against his stomach, hard, with a transparent drop already at the tip. I caught it with my finger and brought it to my mouth without taking my eyes off him. I opened the first email. It was from a German coworker, a plant manager in Hamburg. He’d replied with two photos of himself and a message confessing, between laughs and apologies, that he hadn’t been able to resist and that his aim was terrible. He awarded himself twenty-five points: the left nipple, splattered with a generous load that was dripping down to the areola. Mateo laughed nervously while I kept feeling the toy’s vibrations rise and fall under his command and wrapped my hand around his cock again.

The second email was from Lyon, a salesperson I barely knew. He’d been bold and aimed for the most expensive target: the cleft of the cheeks, two hundred points. The photo he attached proved he’d hit it; a thick thread of semen slid down the fold of the model’s ass. Mateo let out a groan when I saw the image and I felt his cock whip against my wrist.

—Does that bother you? —I asked with fake innocence, kneeling between his legs and running my tongue very slowly along the whole length, from his balls to the frenulum.

—On the contrary. Keep going.

I took him halfway into my mouth and let him go with a wet pop. I went on reading email after email, alternating between reading and licks and sucks that pulled gasps from him. Dutch, Italian, Brazilian, a couple of Mexicans. All of them playing, all of them sending proof of their loads, all of them thinking they had a chance of winning a prize they didn’t even know the details of. Some had been too clever by half and aimed for the eye, minus two hundred points, immediate disqualification. Others, the sharpest ones, focused on the mouth and the pubis, where the scoring was juicier and the photos showed white streaks smashing into my printed lips or sliding over my paper vulva.

—Wait, wait —Mateo stopped me when I reached the fifteenth email, yanking my hair to pull his cock out of my mouth—. And who wins? How is it decided?

—By total points. But there was one detail: the photographic proof had to be convincing, with the load clearly visible on target. Carolina helped me judge.

—The photographer.

—The photographer.

He swallowed. He was starting to realize there were more layers to the story than first appeared.

—Diego won, an Argentine from the Buenos Aires office. Four hundred and fifty points. Mouth, both nipples, and cunt. Four shots, all four in scoring positions. Clearly he’s got stamina and a good aim.

—And the prize?

I smiled without letting go of his cock.

—The prize was coming to Madrid. With all expenses paid by curvyspotted, of course. A private session with the model and the photographer. No clothes, no scoring, no rules. Fuck as much as he wanted, wherever he wanted, until he was empty.

Mateo went completely still. So still that the toy, left to its own devices, kept vibrating for a couple of seconds before he remembered to lower the intensity.

—And that happened.

—That happened. Two weeks ago. Carolina and I received him in her studio. Diego is tall, dark, with a very Latin smile. He showed up with a bouquet of tulips, like it was a first date. Carolina explained that the session was free, that she would keep shooting, that the two of us decided what happened.

—The two of you?

—Yes.

—The two of you how?

—Carolina and I had talked a lot during the calendar shoot. Things that happen when you’re half naked in front of someone for hours and hours. That afternoon was as much her idea as mine.

***

The studio smelled of freshly brewed coffee when Diego walked through the door. Carolina already had the lights set up, two soft boxes and a light gray backdrop. I was wearing the white robe she’d lent me, barefoot on the parquet floor and with nothing underneath: no panties, no bra. My nipples showed through the terry cloth.

—Come in, make yourself comfortable —Carolina told him as if this were any ordinary session, offering him water—. We’ve got all afternoon.

Diego, as confident as he had seemed in his emails, looked more nervous now that the fantasy was about to become real. Carolina, however, was all serenity. I knew she was going to lead us, and that calmed me.

—The rule is simple —I told Diego, letting the robe fall to the floor, standing naked in front of him, my shaved cunt gleaming under the lights—. You don’t need permission for anything I don’t say I don’t want. But she —I pointed at Carolina— sets the pace.

Carolina came over with the camera hanging from her neck and kissed me. Without warning, on the mouth, slowly, while the lens was crushed between our breasts. She shoved her tongue deep in, found mine, and sucked on it as if she were teasing what was waiting for me below. Diego let the glass of water fall to the floor. He laughed, she pulled back just enough to look at him, and told him:

—Relax, there’s the whole session ahead of us. You’re going to fuck her however you want, but first, watch.

What followed was slow, precise, almost choreographed. Carolina had thought of everything. She had me kneel in front of Diego, swept my hair aside, asked him to keep his hands still, to just watch. I unbuttoned his trousers and yanked his boxers down. His cock sprang against my cheek, brown, thick, with prominent veins and a swollen head. My mouth watered.

—Show the camera what you can do —he murmured, his accent stuck in his throat.

I took him by the base and ran my tongue from his balls to the tip, very slowly, savoring the hot skin. I sucked each testicle separately, taking them into my mouth one by one while still jerking him with my hand. When I got back to the top, I licked the frenulum with the tip of my tongue until I saw his legs tremble. Only then did I take him all the way in, until the head hit the back of my throat and tears blurred my vision. Each click of the camera was a declaration: this is happening, we’re recording it, the proof exists. Carolina shot from a crouch, looking for the angle where my cheek would be puffed out by his cock.

I started really sucking him. Up and down with my whole mouth, pulling off to spit over the head and take him back in, angling him against the inside of my cheek so it would be obvious from outside how much space he took up. Diego, at first still, ended up grabbing me by the nape and setting the rhythm himself. He fucked my mouth without mercy and I let him, saliva dripping down my chin to my tits.

—Look at me, not him. Just like that —Carolina whispered from behind the flash every time he eased up for a second.

When my knees got tired, Carolina set the camera on a tripod with an automatic shutter, stripped without any theatrics, like someone who knows what she wants, and lay down with me on the rug. Her tits were smaller than mine, with dark, very erect nipples, and a triangle of brown hair over her cunt that gleamed from how wet she already was. Diego, for once in his life, must have pinched himself to believe what he was seeing was real.

Carolina kissed me again, this time for real, and gently pushed me back until I was lying on my back. Her mouth moved down my neck, over my sternum, between my breasts, pausing to suck my nipples one by one, nibbling them until they were rock hard, tugging them with her teeth while I arched my back. She kept going down over my navel, leaving me a wet trail of saliva. Every centimeter was camera: the self-timer kept clicking every four seconds. When she spread my legs wide and buried her face in my cunt, she started using her tongue the way she’d been promising me for weeks by text.

She licked my lips apart, slid her tongue inside me, pulled it out and searched for my clit to circle it, suck it, tug at it between her lips as if it were a tiny nipple. I moaned out of control, gripping her hair, pushing her head against my cunt. I reached out for Diego and invited him closer, pulling on his cock so he would kneel beside my face. I took him back in my mouth sideways, head turned, while Carolina devoured me from below.

What happened next can’t really be told with words. Carolina knew exactly where to move her tongue and first one finger, then two, slid into my cunt, curling upward, while she kept sucking my clit. Diego, from above, pulled his cock out of my mouth and positioned himself behind Carolina; he grabbed her hips and drove into her in one thrust, all the way. I heard him release a long gasp and Carolina let out a muffled moan against my cunt that went through me like an electric shock. Every time he fucked her from behind, she pressed her fingers harder into me and licked me with more urgency. I let them do as they pleased; I looked at the ceiling, looked at the camera, looked at the two of them, looked at my own body taking part in something I had orchestrated but that, in that instant, no longer belonged to me.

The first orgasm caught me like that, with Carolina’s mouth sucking my clit and her fingers hitting the exact spot inside me. I came with a cry, pressing her head between my thighs, soaking her chin. She didn’t stop. Diego kept taking her from behind with deeper and deeper thrusts, slapping her hips against her ass. As soon as I got my breath back, Carolina changed my position: she put me on all fours, face against the rug and ass in the air. Diego came out of her, circled around my body and shoved it into me at once. I screamed into the rug. He was thicker inside me than he had seemed in my mouth, and he drove into me until I felt his balls hit my clit.

Carolina positioned herself in front of me and spread her legs over my face. I licked her cunt while Diego fucked me from behind. She tasted sweet, salty, of him. I found her clit with the tip of my tongue and worked it in circles, while Diego sped up and my ass cheeks went red from his thrusts. He put his thumb in my ass and the second orgasm flattened me, long and shaking, with the walls of my cunt squeezing his cock in spasms that made him growl.

We changed again. Carolina straddled me, cunt to cunt, rubbing against me in scissors while Diego held her by the hips from behind and fucked her again. I watched her up close, saw how her mouth opened with each thrust, how her tits moved to the rhythm. I sat up just enough to suck them while he kept taking her, and she dug her nails into my back and came trembling, soaking my stomach with her spray.

—Take it out —Carolina told Diego, her voice broken—. Her turn now. On the tits.

Diego came out of her cunt with his cock shining and his breathing ragged. I was already lying on my back, chest arched and nipples pointing at the ceiling. He got on top, straddling my waist, and started beating his cock with his fist two inches from my tits. I squeezed his balls with one hand and with the other I stroked one nipple, staring him in the eyes.

—Come on, Argentine, give it all to me —I whispered—. Cum on me like in the photo.

That was enough. Diego let out a guttural groan and the first jet hit me between the breasts, hot, thick. The second reached my right nipple, the third my neck, the fourth slid down to my navel. Five, six, seven bursts while the automatic shutter clicked nonstop, recording every drop. Carolina came over when he was done and licked a drop off my nipple, smiling at the camera. And in the end he finished where I’d decided from the start: on my chest, where the calendar marked twenty-five points per breast but where, that afternoon, scoring no longer made any sense.

***

—And that’s all —I told Mateo, closing the laptop.

He was looking at me with a mixture of disbelief, desire, and something like pride. His eyes were bright, his breathing shallow, and his cock was dripping slick onto his stomach. The toy was still going full blast between my legs, still being controlled remotely from his phone.

—Are there photos?

—Carolina is developing them. She’s bringing them to me on Tuesday.

—All of them?

—All of them. The three hundred-odd shots she took. With the cum on the tits and everything.

—And why are you telling me this today?

I kissed him on the neck, right below the ear, where I know he loses his head, and slid my hand down to his groin. He was rock hard and slippery. I ran my thumb over the head, smearing it with pre-cum, and sucked it off in front of him.

—Because the next session has a reserved spot for you. Carolina and I decided it. You’re going to fuck both of us while she shoots. And because I wanted you to be the one to ask me for the bukkake, not me having to bring it up.

Mateo laughed softly, grabbed me by the nape, and kissed me like he hadn’t seen me in a week. He yanked the toy out of my cunt, put me on all fours on the bed, and shoved it into me from behind without a word, all the way in. The movie kept playing on the TV. Neither of us looked at it again.