Blowjob Contest – Suck It Off for Eight Minutes
Suck It Off for Eight Minutes – A Blowjob Contest Gone Wild
In the steamy subterranean lair of a makeshift glamour studio, a illicit blowjob contest was about to commence. This wasn’t your typical beauty pageant – no swimsuit competition or talent show. The only talents required here were of the oral variety on full display.
A motley crew of eager participants gathered in the dimly lit room, anxious to prove their prowess in the ancient art of fellatio. There was Lila, the seasoned sultress, confident in her experienced ways. Then there was Candy, the bubbly teenage newcomer, blushing with excitement to make her oral debut. And of course, the reigning champ, Letty Black, infamous for her record-breaking suckoff times.
The MC for this depraved event was none other than Smutty Steve, a lecherous old lech with a positively rancid laugh. “Alright ladies and gentlemen, bring in thejoriees!” he barked, as a grimy crowd of willing gents filed into the studio.
The rules were simple – each participant would have to service an endless queue of horny men for eight minutes straight. No pauses, no breaks, just pure, unbridled oral endurance. The gal who could make the most guys explode on her tongue in that time frame would be crowned the Suckmaster Supreme.
Lila went first, sauntering over to her first victim with a swagger in her step. She took his throbbing cock in her seasoned hand, giving it a few languid licks before sinking her lips around the head. Her technique was textbook, an up-and-down rhythm that had the man clinging to the wall for support. “That’s it, pull those lips back, baby,” Steve encouraged, fapping away in the corner.
Candy was next, looking just a bit green around the gills. But as soon as the first cock liberated itself from its denim constraints, her inhibitions melted away. She took him in her mouth with gusto, slurping and suckling like a child with a lollipop. The crowd cheered as he spurted down her eager throat.
Finally, it was Letty’s turn. The crowd went wild as the reigning champ strutted to the front of the line. Letty didn’t just suck cock, she devoured it, like a rabid animal tearing into fresh meat. She took the entire length in one fell swoop, swallowing it whole. The man was writhing and wailing in ecstatic agony as she worked him over, her head bobbing like a manic metronome.
Two minutes in, and four jizz-covered gents were already slumped against the wall, spent and panting. Steve wiped the sweat from his brow, eager to see who would claim the coveted title. But just then, disaster struck!
Lila, who had been languidly suckling a few men simultaneously, let out a shrill cry. “Something’s wrong!” she yelped, spitting a strange appendage from her mouth. It was another penis, growing from the first man’s crotch! The crowd gasped in horror as a sea of extra appendages emerged, each gent growing an additional member.
“What the fuck?!” Steve screeched, fumbling with his own pants. He too was sprouting a secondary shaft, more prepotent than the last. The room erupted into pandemonium as both girls recoiled in shock and revulsion. “Somebody call an onahole!” Candy screamed, stumbling over a sea of writhing, animated ophidian appendages.
Just then, a creature unlike any the world had ever seen emerged from the shadows. Half man, half canned ham, its features a bizarre amalgamation of the human face and the favorite midwestern luncheon meat. “I am ShuRa, the Baked Ham Demon,” the hamUTE creature intoned, in a voice that sounded like a boot scraping across linoleum. “And I am here to devour you all in my meaty embrace…”
Before anyone could react, ShuRa lunged forward, enveloping Letty in his hammy embrace. She screamed as the creature’s fake mustard sauce dribbled down her face, her tongue instinctively flicking out to taste it. And then, like the Snickers commercial, she metamorphosed into a hamicidal maniac, turning on her shipmates with predatory glee.
Lila and Candy fled the studio in terror, their screams echoing through the putrid halls. Steve, still sporting two raging hard-ons, frantically clung to his notepad. “Dispute, dispute, dispute!” he chanted, hoping to ward off the demonic canned ham. But it was no use. ShuRa loomed before him, his mustard eyes boring into his very soul.
“Down boy,” Steve whimpered, crossing his legs tightly. But the hamUTE creature was already upon him, enveloping him in his hammy embrace. Steve’s vision blurred as the musky smell of preservatives filled his nostrils. His world went black as ShuRa’s meaty walls closed in around him, the siren song of the candy-coated ham-ber still ringing in his ears.
