German mature couple goes to casting for the first time

The German Couple’s Casting Couch Caper

Frigid winter air nipped atetra-tanned skin of 42-year-old Ulrike as she huddled under her faux-fur coat, stumbling at the curb in towering heels. Her phone buzzed insistently. “We’re here, love,” grunted 45-year-old Hans, steering his Harley-Davidson Road King into a narrow alley. “New club. Neon signs. Can’t miss it!” The low rumble of the engine reverberated through her clenching thighs.

“Pulse Lounge” flickered dimly in hot pink cursive above an unremarkable storefront door.Hans revved the engine impatiently as Ulrike swayed from side to side, indecision wrestling with curiosity. Then with a deep breath, she flung back her Diana Ross wig, marching ahead to boldly shove open the doors without knocking.

Inside, a statuesque Spanish vixen with cherry-red lips reclined atop a red velvet loveseat, sipping a daiquiri. Dropping her designer clutch, Ulrike sashayed over in a shimmering gold minidress, hips undulating. “You must be Tanya,” she purred, sitting down beside her. “We’re here to star in your film.”

“Oh, ulrike, I just knew you’d be perfect,” Tanya despaired, patting Ulrike’s nylon-clad knee. “Now, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing such a hunk along!” Hans removed his duster and helmet to reveal slicked-back grey hair and a bushy Fu Manchu mustache, along with an impressive bulge in his leather pants.

“Meet my husband, Hans,” Ulrike cooed. “He’s very…enthusiastic.”

Tanya licked her crimson-lacquered lips, reaching to squeeze his muscular thigh. “Well, enthusiastic is good! Hans, Ulrike, come and meet the cast.”

Looming over them was a towering black man with ebony skin glistening like chocolate mousse, his bicep bigger than Ulrike’s head. “I’m Kai,” he purred in a rich baritone. “The idea is cameltoe and cum, but we can worry about location later. For now, let’s break the ice!” He unwrapped the towel around his waist, exposing a full foot of pulsating ebony manhood.

Ulrike gasped, reaching automatically for his velvety shaft as Hans pulled it to his mouth. Hans squeezed his eyes shut in concentration as the thick chocolate waffle cone filled his mouth bit by melting stretching bitter sweet chocolate coating.

“Mmm, that’s it,” Kai coached him. “Now use your tongue! Swirl it around the head!”

“Vhat the hell are you doing back there?” Ulrike demanded, hiked up her dress, shoving her nude pussy against Kai’s slick ebony cock. “Get off that cuck and eat my cunt!”

For the next ten minutes, Ulrike was the center of attention, Kai’s thick chocolate shaft stretching her tight pink folds as Hans valiantly sucked the tip in deep, taking it down his throat until he gagged. Kai groaned, working a thick glob of hershey syrup batter out onto the head of his pussy pleaser.

Hans lapped it up eagerly, smearing it across Ulrike’s trembling muff. She bucked and writhed with a jolt of pleasure, Kai’s ebony chocolate shaft throbbing inside her as he pounded into her relentlessly.

“Gonna cum, man,” Kai growled, pulling out to quiver against her taut tummy. Golden rivers of molten caramel erupting, shooting past the cone, splattering all over Ulrike, mixing the chocolate, salty come for her to lick up off her breasts.

Tanya skittered over on stiletto mules withulous handful of strawberries glistening with chocolate, a gold-flecked ice cream sundae crown. She moved in, a spoonful of creamy vanilla ice cream pried by plump cleavage.

Ulrike squealed, arching her back into Kai’s wet chest furnace. Her insanely outstretched tongue lapped greedily, cleaning strawberries glossy with hot fudge from his pecs. Hans smoothed a dollop of freshly whipped cream over her mountainous jug. Licked it off with peculiar gusto, his fingers still cocooned around the base of his scrotum as it thrummed a beat not yet heard.

“That’s it, babe, wank it to beat the band! We’ve got three more sets to shoot today. Let’s see some magic!” Hans needed no second invite, grunting like a bull lavishing jizz across ulrike’s swollen pussy and Kai’s pumping hip.

Hours later, flushed and footsore, Ulrike and Hans stumbled out into the cold night air, reeking of come and cream. “Damn, that was the most fun I’ve had since the war!” Hans guffawed. “Remind me to never go back to my desk job! Who’d you say was producing this film again, love?”

Ulrike pretended not to hear, slipping a well-used Swiss Army knife into her clutch. “Oh, just some Anybodyrimporium concerne. Now quit your jawing and take me out for frikadellen after the shoot! Mein Mami would roll over in her grave if I came home with an empty belly.”

As Hans was opening the door, Ulrike rang Tanya back. “Listen, babes,” she breathed, evading a wino, “you didn’t catch my real last name on set, correct?” “Should I assume you don’t want me to?”

there was a loaded pause, then Ulrike murmured, “Green. It’s ulrike Untermeyer-Green. Und tell nobody. Liebchen?”

“sleep tight, love!” came the voicey reply.