81 - DT Queen

*You realize that they think she’s like virginic innocent? - Priscilla*

Camille leaned into Porthos who put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you guys here, I love the fact that you’re here…”

“But?” Porthos asked as he smiled against her damp hair.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“We brought some cherry popping presents,” Clay gave a little laugh as he moved to Trevor’s side.

Laughing, Camille sat up and grabbed Peanut’s arm to look at his watch. “You’re about thirteen hours too late.”

“Not your cherries, little bit,” Trevor grinned. “Boys go get the bag.”

“I got it!” Aramis headed down the hall to the room he and Megan were staying in.

“I don’t know if Darkness is into pegging,” Camille said with a straight face.

Priscilla laughed. “Of course, your sick ass went there.”

“You notice that Darkness hasn’t said no,” Athos teased.

“No, Darkness is not into pegging,” Darkness said with an amused grin.

“How the hell does she know about pegging?” Peanut asked as more of the Cajuns trickled into the main room to see what was going on.

“Porn,” the Saints all declared.

Looking over at Clay, Camille grinned with excitement, “Did you see that Max Stallion is releasing a new DVD this year?”

Aramis sat a large gift bag in her lap and then pulled a black DVD case out of the bag. “This one?”

“How the hell did you get this?” she asked, hugging it to her chest.

“Open it.” Aramis grinned.

Opening the case, she found a four by six inch picture of the porn star with his hands braced on the top corners of a door frame. A white towel was slung low across his hips, one end tucked into the other and a V formed where it hung open on his thigh. In black ink, he had scrawled “Camille, Thanks for your support. Keep it hard – Max Stallion”

“Oh. My. God!” she squealed. “Does Werewolf still do security at his house?”

“How do you think we got the video?” Athos asked. “Now look at what other presents you have.”

Looking in the bag she pulled out the box with Naughty Claus wrapping paper of pole dancing elves with a large number one written on the top. “I’m guessing that I start with this one?”

“Yeah,” Porthos smirked as he took the bag and set it on the floor between his and Athos’ feet.

Ripping the paper, she exposed a white box that looked like it had once had a Cookie Jar travel mug in it. Opening the box, she made a surprised O with her mouth before looking over at Priscilla and Megan, who both nodded at her.

“Hell yeah! Hey, Gator!” she turned around and looked at the confused president who stood just outside his office. “Give me control of the clubhouse for a few hours and I won’t shoot your balls off.”

“Won’t give you complete control, but I will give you a little leeway.”

“I’ll take it!” she agreed as she hopped up and ran through the kitchen calling for the club bunnies to come join them in the main room. A minute or two later, she came back down the stairs and then headed to her room in the other hallway. By the time that she returned, the bunnies and old ladies were giving each other wary looks.

“First, set your differences aside, this is more important. Oh!” She turned and looked at Priscilla as she tossed two tins of candy at her. “We need a crown.”

“Box two,” her friend smiled.

Athos handed her the six-inch square box with reindeer in various sex positions. “Where the hell does your mom find these different papers at?”

“Honestly, I’m afraid to ask,” she admitted as she hopped up and sat on the bar. “Alright, here are the rules.”

“Are there really any rules?” Porthos smirked.

“Don’t be stupid, of course, there’s rules,” Camille said as she pulled out a long dong with a suction cup on the bottom. “You can put it wherever you need, or you can hold it. If you take it out of your mouth, you forfeit your turn. Each piercing is an inch apart and there’s fourteen inches, slightly over including the head.”

She pointed dramatically to the silver banana bars with golden balls embedded in the purple silicon. “By the way, I love the new colors.”

“That one stays here,” Priscilla told her friend as she stole another chip and dip from Megan. “The crown is new, too. New game, new crown.”

“Woot!” Camille grinned. “So, who goes first?”

“Why don’t you?” Rosie suggested.

“Camille always goes last,” Priscilla explained as she tried to take another chip.

“You do realize that it’s dangerous to keep taking a pregnant woman’s food, right?” Megan asked and then realized what she said. “Oh, shit.”

Athos reached up and gently patted Aramis’ zipper, “Good job, little musketeer.”

“Please don’t ever touch my dick ever again,” Aramis told his friend.

Camille shrugged, “I’m down.”

“No, no and no,” Aramis told her as he shook his head.

“Please don’t ever say that ever again. And please don’t ever be in a position where a man is touching your dick again,” Megan pleaded. “There are so many images in my head now.”

Pointing to the DVD on the coffee table, Camille offered, “I have new porn if you’d –“

“If I go first, will you shut the hell up?” Megan asked, shoving the chips and dip at Priscilla and standing up.

“First contender!” Camille declared as she handed the dong over.

“Oh, hey, there’s a crown for viewers' choice too!” Priscilla said between bites.

“Hell, yeah!” Aramis cheered. “You got this baby!”

Megan spit on the bottom of the suction cup and smeared it around before sticking it to the floor. She then did a handstand over the dildo and lowered herself to take it into her mouth.

“Damned cheerleaders,” Priscilla and Camille both grumbled.

Megan got to the third bar before she had to adjust and was able to go down just past the fifth bar. Pushing herself up and flipping to her feet, she stood back up.

“Damn, I need a cheerleader.” Santa muttered.

“Don’t you know where all the bad girls are?” Candy asked as she pulled up the dong.

“I know where you are.”

“Point made,” Camille said as she opened the box and handed Megan the cheap silver and rhinestone crown with small plastic penises hot glued to it.

Candy did not make it past the fifth bar and Megan got to keep her crown. Three players later, Peanut’s wife, Vivian, took the crown when she hit six inches.

The longer the game went, the rowdier the clubhouse got. Club bunnies and old ladies alike were cheered to go further and take a little more.

When Rosie made it to nine inches, the room erupted. Several players later, Clay took a few candies from a tin and then made it to ten inches.

The Saints all shared a laugh when Camille imitated Nessie and declared, “Mon makes me wish I had a pecker.”

Priscilla took off her boots and popped a few candies in her mouth and then warned everyone, “I don’t think that I can beat the king gobbler over there, but I can always try to beat the damned cheerleader.”

Laughing, Meagan asked, “What are you going to do? Slide home?”

“Kind of,” she winked at the other woman as she tipped her head back. As she slowly took the dildo into her mouth, her legs slid apart in the splits. She was just shy of the nine-inch mark when her legs were out straight, one in front and one behind.

“Breathe out and relax your throat,” Camille advised.

Her friend tried but could not go any further. Pulling the dildo out, she shook her head. “Is there anyone else that wants to try before the queen of all things swallow shows us how it’s done?”

One last club bunny tried, but only made it to eight inches. Camille took a couple of candies from each tin and then accepted the purple dildo.

“How the hell do you do both of those? The cinnamon and mint do not mix well,” Priscilla asked with a shudder.

“They don’t, but one numbs and one makes you slobber more,” Camille swiped at the drool oozing out of her mouth.

“Now you tell us!” Megan objected as Camille twirled around and laid down on the bar. With her head hanging off the edge of the bar, she placed the dildo in her mouth and slowly pushed it into the mouth and then her throat.

With all fourteen bars in her mouth, she moved her hands away, holding them out straight.

“That, boys,” Trevor chuckled, “is why she is the Deep Throat Queen.”

“Break out the Mezcal,” Athos demanded.