The lift worked very well. The angle of tilt was automatically adjustable. Harold could put his feet on a thick wooden beam spanning the two forks and then just lean back against the lift itself. The last problem was that tilting Harold back invariably lifted him up so that poor Jo couldn’t really reach his crotch with her mouth while on her knees. But a cathedral less than a block away provided an easy solution. The priest on duty was delighted to lend us a kind of lectern for kneeling from a confessional booth… a wooden piece with a nicely padded surface for her knees and another for her elbows. It would be exactly as if Jo was kneeling at church, except that she’d be giving a blowjob in a busy parking lot surrounded by cameras, a very interested construction crew, a few priests and deacons (all with cameras out, I might add) and a flurry of passers-by.

This worked great. JoAnne still had to push her face into fat a bit, but the angle definitely made it easier for her to get her mouth around Harold’s dick. And Jo could look into the cameras again. For all it had taken us over two hours to get everything perfect, Jo now was really having fun. Harold couldn’t see her, because of his own huge belly, but we positioned numerous large stand-up mirrors around so he could watch her in them. Of course, Jo got to watch herself, which she REALLY found fun. 

As Harold’s cock hardened, it grew and grew until it befitted his six-foot two frame. Soon Jo was thrusting her mouth down on nine inches of cock, as hard as bone and as thick as a baseball bat. She reveled in the feel of this humungous cock in her throat, and playfully wiggled her head to force her face further and further into his groin, his cock further and further down her throat. She gagged, of course, but to her that was all part of the fun. 

“Hggghhh… hggghhh.. hggghhh… hggghhh,” she said when she started pumping this cock in and out of her throat again.

Since this shoot was really just for fun, the camera crew and I took turns trying to make Jo laugh. Over the months that we’d all gotten to know and love her, we’d come up with an entire collection of Jo jokes.

“Hey, Guys! What did Santa say to Jo last year when she was in his lap?”

Everyone shakes their head.

“Watch the teeth! Watch the teeth!”

“Hmm hmmm,” Jo said sarcastically.

“Why does Rudolph have a red nose?... Jo’s lipstick travels upstream.”

JoAnne just shook her head, rolled her eyes and kept sucking, stopping only to pose for the camera when instructed.

“Look over here, Jo,” we told her.

And then she’d just melt us all with her big, soft brown eyes.

“Hmm hmm?” she’d ask playfully.

“Just like that, Jo,” we told her, over and over, amazed at how she knew exactly what to do every time.

At one point, Jo stood up, supported herself by placing her hands on her lectern’s elbow rest and REALLY leaned into Harold’s crotch. This gave us an entirely new perspective on Jo we hadn’t caught on film before. In this position, the seat of her pants were REALLY stretched and we all could admire Jo’s cute panty line. I could tell right away that she was wearing the nice, light blue, satin bikini panties she usually wore with these white pants; even their light blue color was evident through her white pants. 

“Niiiice panties, Jo,” the cameraman remarked sincerely.

“Hmm hmm,” Jo mumbled proudly.

After a couple of minutes of watching this, I couldn’t resist… I stepped forward and started to fondle Jo’s gorgeous little bum with my hand. The softness of her bum and pants felt so nice on my fingers. I reached one finger down between her legs and started to rub her clit.

“Hmmmmmmmmm,” Jo purred contentedly.

After about five minutes of this, Jo must have gotten tired, because she kneeled back down again. But I had had fun. And I’m sure she’d had fun with my hand on her bum, so I was sure we’d try this again sometime, maybe during the upcoming live show.

I looked back towards Jo’s phenomenally beautiful face and our eyes met, even as she continued to bob her head in and out of Harold’s crotch. The look in her eyes clearly said ‘Thank you’, but I wasn’t sure if she was thanking me for having rubbed her bum… or for having introduced her to Harold so she could suck him. Knowing Jo, it was probably for both. I just smiled and nodded at her.

“Hmmm,” she said quietly.

After about ten more minutes, Harold released fifteen years of pent up frustration (he hadn’t been blown or masturbated or done anything in that long, because of his size) and all of it poured relentlessly into Jo’s well-deserving mouth and throat. As usual, Jo slowed her pace a bit, but continued to sloooowly slide her mouth to and fro along Harold’s now-shrinking cock until her was fully soft, her mouth still full of his cum. From personal experience, I knew how amazingly gentle her mouth became at this point, and I could almost feel in myself the amazing, almost electric tingling Harold’s cock must feel like as she did this. Harold just moaned loudly, and I could tell how pleased Jo was with herself. This, in many ways, was one of her trademarks. Wow! I thought to myself. ‘You’ve done it again, Jo.’

Finally JoAnne stopped and just looked out at the camera for several last pictures. I announced to the crowd that this was a last chance for them to take pictures of Jo blowing Harold. Of course, EVERYONE with a camera stepped forward, including all the priests and deacons, so Jo stayed in this pose with Harold’s soft cock and a huge load of cum in her mouth for at least another five minutes, her big brown eyes moving on command towards any voice that said: “Jo… look here.”

Jo herself had more than fifty floppy disks full of digital images, mostly by our station’s camera crew but also from her friend’s Sabrina and Bonnie, and many clients (especially groups she blew like her hockey teams when there often was one designated photographer). Thousands of these pictures had made it onto the internet by one means or another. One day, I quickly help JoAnne surf the web to see if we could find any pictures of her. Well… we couldn’t HELP but find pictures of her. Her gorgeous cock-filled mouth and big brown eyes were EVERYWHERE. Jo couldn’t stop laughing as we went from one free site to another… and there she was. 

“I guess there’s no point in starting up your own pay site,” I told her ruefully.

“I guess not,” she laughed. But she really didn’t mind. In fact, she called up her Mom right then and there and guided her to some of the sites… and they just laughed together.
She even directed her Mom to a site where Jo was with her horse.

“That’s me with Bucky,” she told her mother proudly. But that was another time. Right now Jo had Harold’s big member in her mouth.

“How was that?” Jo asked us after she’d swallowed Harold’s load.

“That was great, Jo,” we told her honestly. “Do you think you could do ten to twelve of these guys for the real thing?”

“Nooooo problem,” Jo said confidently.

So we now had what we wanted… a definite plan as to how to please the Fat Brothers. The only thing to do now before packing up for this shoot was for Jo to take care of the large and extremely horny construction crew gathered around watching her. 

“Do you mind, Jo?” I asked her.

She just laughed and waved the closest guy over to begin on him. As one guy after another stepped forward to receive his blowjob from Jo, it was evident that beautiful blonde JoAnne had come through for us again. We all watched in amusement as the priests and deacons sheepishly all joined the line-up. 

“Bless you, Child,” one of them said as Jo lovingly took his penis into her mouth.

“Hmmmmmmm,” Jo purred.

Jo was kept busy until almost four thirty that afternoon, eighty percent of the time sucking and twenty percent of the time laughing from all the fun she was having. After she’d blown the cameraman and me and I’d helped her up from her knees, I asked her if she’d had as much fun today as she’d had at the 24-hour marathon. 

She answered that it ALL was SO MUCH fun, but that she was glad that there had only been about thirty construction workers.

“Sabrina wants me to take calls starting at five,” she explained, glancing at her watch. And, sure enough, Jo already had messages from seven clients in her cell phone message box. Just time enough to go home, fix up her make-up and get to her first appointment. 

I apologized for having kept her on her knees all day when she would be on call and almost certainly on her knees all night.

“Don’t be silly,” she scolded me. She LOVED working. And she couldn’t wait to be on her knees again.

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