HOV Circus


“I’ll be there in 10, numb-nuts,” said Roger, before pressing the ‘End Call’ button on the steering wheel, hanging up on his partner in crime.

He was already a few minutes late leaving the house this morning, and now had one additional stop to make before arriving at the office. No doubt, he’d have some catching up to do before trading opened for the day.

“Fuckin’ Jerry,” he said calmly while shaking his head then glancing over to the passenger seat and eyeing up his lady. “Looks like I won’t be needin’ ya today.”

He took a quick look at the digital clock on the dash and realized he needed to make tracks. He wasted no time jumping into the left lane and stomping on the accelerator, all in an effort to make up time.

The parkway was usually flooded with traffic at this time of the morning but by some stroke of luck, the volume was lighter than usual. Even with the last-minute pick-up, he’d probably be fine. But that was no measure of comfort considering his high-strung personality, and his obsessive nature. If he had to cut his mental pre-game checklist short before the opening bell, he would be rendered ineffective for the first hour of trading, and that would set the tone for the rest of the day.

“Get in, get set, get go… Get in, get set, get go,” he repeated, as if in a trance, while navigating in and out of traffic in an effort to buy himself more time. “Fuckin’ Jerry.”

A short time later, he exited the parkway and sped down a side street, driving more than a few miles over the posted speed limit while keeping his eye on the clock. He rang Jerry to give him a heads up.

“Dude, two minutes… Be ready.”

Roger clicked the button and hung up, then cursed his friend a few times under his breath before pulling up to the house and coming to a screeching halt in front of Jerry’s driveway. He unbuckled his seatbelt and began fumbling around with his passenger as Jerry and his companion walked down the driveway and towards the car.

“Hey man,” Jerry shouted through the half-opened passenger side window to his friend. “No need to put her away. We’ll ride in the back.”

Roger leaned forward and saw Jerry standing there, in full get-up, with a short little brunette attached to his side. She sported a pixie cut and was wearing a tight, yet skimpy sequined outfit that was thinly veiled by a mesh purple robe. He opened the door and got out of the car, taking a few steps forward to get a much better view of the circus act standing before him.

Jerry was already dressed for his performance under the big top: red nose, wild orange wig, floppy red shoes, oversized, obnoxious jump-suit, face painted white, and a smoldering cigarette wedged between his cherry-red lips. His companion, all four feet ten inches of her, stood next to time with an innocent yet devious smile on her face.

Roger eyed her up and down, marveling at her tiny, yet tight little body. He threw a glance back at Jerry and said, “What the fuck is this? You stakin’ out the local grade school again?”

“Dude, get serious. She’s fully grown. She just looks like she’s ten. Be nice and say hi to Miranda. She’s a contortionist… and was my entertainment last night.”

Jerry dismissed her by waving his hand and nodded his head. “We gotta roll,” he said as he got back into the car and grabbed his passenger with both hands. “I’m gonna be late.”

“No need to stash Brittani in the trunk, man,” said Jerry. “We’ll ride in the back.”

Miranda couldn’t help but wonder what stumbled onto. She curiously eyed Roger’s passenger karabük escort as Jerry stepped around her and opened the door for her. “Um, why’s he got a blow-up doll in the front seat of his car? And why did he give her a name?” she asked quietly as she stepped into the back of the sedan.

Jerry scooted her over in the seat and sat down next to her, closing the door and whispering in her ear, “He always drives to and from work with Brittani riding shotgun. Uses the HOV lanes on the highway. Have no idea how he gets away with it but he does.”

“This is too weird,” she replied.

“Seriously?” he asked. “We’re sitting in the back seat of this car dressed as a fucking clown and a slutty sequined gymnast, and you think this is too weird?”

They both were driven back into their seats as Roger slammed the accelerator to the floor. “Buckle up,” he said while eyeing them through the rear-view mirror. “This may get unwieldy.”

Roger quickly made his way through the neighborhood and out to the freeway in record time. He haphazardly merged into one of the two HOV lanes, disregarding the protesting of his passengers, then yelled, “Jesus Christ, at least she doesn’t complain about my driving,” while pointing to Brittani. “You fucks are lucky I picked you up this morning. I’m stressed!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re always stressed, ass-hat,” returned Jerry as Miranda giggled.

“Is he always like this?” she asked, as she leaned over and nuzzled Jerry’s neck, while putting a hand on his thigh.

Jerry looked into the rear-view mirror and could see Roger getting upset. That scowl he sported when he was really pissed off let Jerry know that it was time to shut up. Besides, he had something else going down that needed his attention.

Miranda was already inside his pants and was licking him just below his ear; right up to the point where the face-paint was applied.

“Not the paint, babe,” he said as he reached up under her mesh robe and laid his hand on her exposed waist.

Roger took a peek in the mirror again and could see things escalate quickly. Miranda now had Jerry’s massive cock free of his jumper and was already engaging his meat with her tongue. Jerry had her laying sideways on the seat and was vigorously massaging her muff with one hand while the other was forcing her head further down his shaft.

“What the fuck are you morons doing?” he said in aggravation.

Miranda stopped sucking Jerry’s dick and gazed forward, as Roger quickly turned to look back at them then refocus on the road ahead.

She turned towards Jerry with a question but before she could say anything, she heard him respond, “I’m turning her into a pretzel. Just keep drivin’.”

“Mother-fucker!” shouted Roger. He was getting ready blow.

“Just watch this shit, man,” said Jerry as he sunk down in the seat and spun Miranda up over his lap; her feet now straddling Jerry’s shoulders and pressed into the seat cushion, and her back arched up like a terrified cat. Her head was now down facing Jerry’s long and thick hog, on which she went back to work.

Roger watched through the mirror as Miranda bobbed up and down on Jerry’s thick shaft, adding more lubricating saliva with each motion forward.

“She’s gotta grease me up good before I stuff this monster in her snatch.”

Roger kept turning back repeatedly to watch the action and tried to keep the car in the lane at the same time. He couldn’t believe how twisted up and convoluted Miranda looked as she worked.

Jerry had since pulled her bottoms karaman escort down her legs and were now looped loosely around one ankle. He put both hands on her waist and rocked her back and forth such that her muff pressed into his red-clown nose—which squeaked each time her pussy smashed up against it and glistened in the sunlight from her juices that were beginning to flow.

She started to moan from the action and friction that was created by Jerry’s nose, yet she continued to work her way further down his shaft. Each time she came back up for a breath, her eyes watered and she sighed, and gobs of saliva spewed from her mouth, down his shaft, and pooled on his loins and jumper.

Roger looked back again and said to his pal, “Dude, you look like you’re fuckin’ killin’ her? No way is she dyin’ in this car today. You on the other hand…”

His voice trailed off as Jerry replied in a muffled voice between the protesting squeaking of the pussy pounding. “Nah. She’s ok. She’s a fuckin’ trooper.”

Roger just shook his head and cursed some more under his breath while the two in the back seat continued amping things up. Once Jerry’s massive cock was sufficiently greased, he grabbed Miranda by the waist and spun her back up to face him. She pressed all of her feather weight onto his chest and raised her exposed ass to the air. Now, with her eyes able to peer over the top of Jerry’s orange wig, could she see the traffic in the lanes behind them. At least three other cars were going to be treated to quite the freeway show.

She pressed herself away from him slightly and dropped her head down to see where she needed to be, then lined up her well-lubed pussy with Jerry’s Portobello mushroom head. He was holding his cock steady from the base, giving her a target to drop onto. She lowered her pelvis down, then back up, beginning the process of spreading herself open, as Roger continued to watch through the mirror.

“Keep it steady, fuck. I can’t drill down on her just yet. Don’t land in a pothole, either.”

Roger, being the dick that he was, nudged the car over a few lane markers, just to fuck with his friend, but compassionately kept the car steady. He snickered as he noticed Jerry eyeball him through the mirror, then said, “Relax. If I give you a nice ride, will she set me up with one of her friends?”

Jerry said nothing as Miranda lowered herself down onto his thick shaft with a groan. She controlled her motion until she was sufficiently opened, then began riding his cock like a champion. She pressed her weight into him and bounced up and down while noting the shocked and exasperated look on the faces of those traveling in the cars immediately behind them. This show was certainly a crowd-pleaser.

Meanwhile, Roger had maneuvered into a clear lane of traffic. He had nothing but open road for a least a half mile, so he peered into the mirror to watch more of the show.

Miranda was now facing forward, leaning back on Jerry while she rode him and played with her clit. Jerry’s hands were up and under her bikini top, fondling her small but perky breasts, and his fingers and thumbs were pinching her nipples hard. Miranda loved be manhandled.

Her pussy flowed with her juices, dampening more and more of Jerry’s jumper below his crotch, as she moaned harder and louder.

Roger could feel a massive erection growing in his pants. Porn always turned him on. But this was something else altogether—live porn. And that just got him even more aroused.

Still stressed and now as horny as a toad, Roger kars escort reached across to the glovebox and popped it opened. “Ah, fuck it,” he said as he pulled out a tube of lube. He placed it on the seat in front of Brittani and freed his cock from his slacks. He then grabbed the tube, popped the top, and slathered a liberal amount of it over his erection. He reached back across the seat, undid the passenger seatbelt, grabbed Brittani by the head, and stuffed her opened, cherry-ringed mouth over his dick.

He grabbed her by the back of her plastic head and began bobbing her up and down on his cock, first mildly, then aggressively; building up just the right amount of friction to allow him to keep the car steady and constant.

He continued to watch the action through the mirror while driving the car and driving his girl. Now, Miranda was in a frenzy, slamming herself down hard on Jerry’s crowbar while annihilating her clit with her hand. She came hard when Jerry exploded in her canal. She could feel his cock contract and the forcefulness of his rapid-fire bulleting of her cervical opening sent her body into convulsions. Her pussy spasmed around his pulsating rod as she let out a wild cry in ecstasy, and that put Roger over the edge.

He immediately let out a moan of his own, prompting both of his backseat passengers to notice what was going on up front. The car swerved slightly as Roger reached orgasm and blew into Brittani’s eager mouth.

Miranda was still coming down off her high and was taken aback by what she thought she might have just witnessed. She then whispered in Jerry’s ear, “Did he do what I think he just did?”

Jerry craned his head around Miranda’s neck, saw Brittani lying prone across the seat, and heard Roger grunt and groan a few times softly.

He snickered, then turned to Miranda and said, “Yeah, you saw it. He’s a fucking piece of work, isn’t he?”

Miranda just sat there, on Jerry’s lap with his cock still inside of her; her mouth agape, and her brain trying to make sense of the aftermath of Roger’s manual BJ effort, with an assist from his always-compliant companion. But before she could utter another word, she felt Jerry’s massive load begin flowing out of her pussy like a lava flow. She looked down then whispered, “Fuck. What are we going to do with this?”

Jerry looked down at his lap and saw the pool of cum resting on his loins and migrating onto his jumper. A smirk spread across his face as he whispered back, “Let’s leave him a little present. He’ll love it.”

Jerry lifted her off him and pushed her back into the other seat. He then scooped up his load with his hand, shifted himself towards the center of the row, then clandestinely smeared it on the corner of the seat cushion facing the door while giggling to himself.

Miranda watched with a shocked expression as she pulled her tights back up over her still soaked pussy, then looked down at the remnants on Jerry’s lap.

“You’re fucked,” she said to Roger. “You might have to borrow a jumper from one of the other clowns.”

Roger looked at her then pointed to Jerry with his other cum-free hand. “Maybe,” he said while letting out hearty laugh and pointing towards Roger. “I might be. But not as fucked as him.”

Roger had since slowed the car down and pushed Brittani back into her seat. He stashed his cock back into his pants and zipped up. He looked into the mirror at Jerry, then looked down to his lap. There was lube and remnants of his load all over the crotch of his slacks.

He looked back at the two of them as he took the next exit. “We’re getting off.”

Roger thought about what he just said, then added, “Well, we already did that. Fast food joint about a mile up. I need to clean this shit up. Anyone want a clown-dog or somethin’ while I’m inside?”

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