Three pics for $50? Sure, go for it!

Sit, snap snap snap, ka-ching; I can do that! These guys will essentially pay for my dinner and I’ll still have enough left over to buy myself something nice later! And this’ll make a great story later. Good call conscience!

“What the hey,” I say, feeling my breasts jiggle as I give my shoulders a shrug.

“That’s the spirit, sweetheart,” he says without looking up from the camera, “now walk that ‘grown-up’ fanny of yours over and sit the fuck down.”

Oh! Well there’s no call for that kind of language, but I just want to get this finished. I step over towards Chez, painfully aware that I’m slowly being surrounded by large men in leather and spikes. Maybe it’s all the testosterone in the air, or maybe it’s the danger, but my nipples are sooo hard at the moment. I hope they’re not too visible through my dress.

I step awkwardly between Chez’s legs and slowly try to sit on his knee. If his clothing is half as dirty as the floor in this place looks then I’d really like to touch as little of him as possible.

“No no, love,” roars the man with laugher as he finally seems to get the camera how he wants it, “turn and face him, and sit on both his legs.”

I can feel my brow crease in annoyance as I stand again. Geeze, just take the pictures and give me my money already. I turn, trying not to look into Chez’s face. Awkwardly I widen my stance; no easy feat in these heals, and try to straddle both of his knees at the same time. I can feel my face redden in embarrassment as my miniskirt starts to ride up. No, this isn’t working, I can’t sit on this man’s legs without mooning half the bar. They’re gonna have to accept me sitting forward or they—

Yikes! I feel a cry of surprise push past my soft lips. With one quick motion, Chez grabbed my hips and yanked me down onto him. My breasts bounce briefly off his face before I adjust, leaving them still at eye level for him and just inches from his greedy eyes. My miniskirt slides easily up my thighs and onto my hips revealing my entire, soft, round ass to the various onlooking bikers. An instant later, Chez’s large rough hands clamp down one on each asscheek, holding me securely in place against his… his…

Oh… on no! I can feel his cock… with my pussy! The large mass presses against the inside of his pants but he’s pulling me tight enough against him that I swear I can actually feel it throb through our clothing.

“Uh… I… uh…” I mutter uselessly as I try to stand but his hands only clamp harder around the swells of my butt and I end up rocking against the growing mound in his pants.

“Perfect,” says a voice from behind me and for a second it takes me a moment to remember that a whole room full of people is watching my every move. “Now for the first pic, why don’t you give old Chez a little kiss. He’ll like that.”

Pic? Oh! Picture, right. Three quick snapshots and I can get out of here before things get… a kiss?! Wait a minute, nobody said anything about a kiss. Oh, conscience, I’m not sure what to do. Should I try to leave? Should to give the kiss? Any other ideas, conscience?