French Quarter

by Lacey Alexander

As usual, the mood on the street was intoxicating and infectious. One didn’t have to venture into the sex shops and strip joints to feel their aura in the air, and as on past nights, the decadence that was Bourbon Street was seeping into Liz’s veins. As she and Jack passed by one sex club in particular, called the Pussycat’s Claw, she urged him to slow down so she could take a closer look. Beneath the neon signs touting the “Live Sex Show” was a display of photos. Like the club she and Lynda had stopped to look at during her “reconnaissance mission” to the Quarter before meeting Jack at Club Venus that first time, these pictures showed a wide mixture of people actually fucking on a stage. Most pictures showed a man and woman having sex in a variety of skimpy costumes and settings, but one showed three girls in the remains of harem costumes touching each other, and one photo featured a guy with two girls.

  “Maybe this is it,” she said to Jack.

  “Maybe this is what?”

  “The exciting thing we’re going to do tonight.”

  He smiled. “My hot petite fille, you never cease to amaze me.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes, feeling playful. “I’d think by now you’d be getting used to my wild side.”

  He gave a knowing nod. “Oh yes, indeed, darlin’, you’ve proven yourself to be one hell of a wild woman, and yet…” He looked thoughtful, a small smile gracing his face.

  “And yet what?”

  “Like I just said, you still amaze me. Every single time you do somethin’ new, I’m fuckin’ astonished. Because I can’t believe you’re the same woman who still blushes sometimes when we talk about sex.”

  Liz bit her lip. “Blushing is an old habit, one I’m trying to break. But I like having the ability to surprise you.”

  “Mais, you’ve sure as hell succeeded at that,” he said on a laugh. Then he looked toward the door of the establishment, open but revealing only darkness inside. “So, you wanna go in?”

  She nodded, her skin tingling with anticipation. It was truly like a drug to her, having the power to keep shocking her lover, and now she was excited to see what exactly was taking place inside this building and how she would respond to it.

  Stepping up to the door, she waited as Jack paid the doorman, then took her hand and led her into the dark interior.

  They stepped into a small lobby area, where a cute but scruffy-looking guy stood behind a counter selling glasses and t-shirts with the Pussycat’s Claw logo. Hard rock music filled the air, along with the smells of alcohol and…undeniably, sex.

  The guy silently pointed the way and Jack led her through a curtained entrance to another room, dark but for the brightly lit stage where, as expected, a man and a woman were fucking. The woman lay on her back on a small bed covered with a girlish pink bedspread—she wore white stockings with a pink garter belt and pink high-heeled shoes. Her hair was in two blonde ponytails, tied with pink ribbons. The man wore a suit, with only his cock exposed. It was so raw; unlike the strip club, it held no teasing, no slow sensuality. It was real—a very hot fuck between what was portrayed to be a businessman and a young girl. He drove into her slow but hard, making her cry out with each thrust, and her face looked as impassioned as any Liz had ever seen. “Yes! Yes! Give me that cock!” the woman cried out, sensually pinching and toying with her nipples as she met his rough strokes.

  Liz felt a bit frozen in place by the bluntness of the act before them, but Jack led her through the room until they reached two plush chairs. The chairs reminded her of the ones at Club Venus, except they were clearly older and well-used. They were sprinkled around the room, which, to her surprise, was somewhat full, with quite a few other women in the crowd. Although the room was kept very dark, likely to protect the patrons from being seen, Liz could make out enough to know the spectators crossed the spectrum from t-shirts and baggy jeans to guys in suits just like the one on the stage. The women were more like Liz—dressed sexy and looking ready. They all appeared entranced by what was taking place before them, and indeed, it was captivating to Liz, as well.

  She was not as comfortable as at Club Venus—as evidenced by the chairs and other small details, the Pussycat’s Claw was less lush and sophisticated, and the very rawness of the show gave her the sense she was witnessing something she should not be. Something intimate and forbidden, much more so than even the many lap dances she’d seen performed at the other club.

  Yet the woman on stage appeared to be enjoying herself as much as Liz did when Jack was buried in her. She was beautiful with large, firm breasts and long, lovely legs which were now upright, her ankles resting on the man’s shoulders as he thrust in and out of her. Every so often, the girl cried out, “Yes, baby,” or “More, more,” and as her initial shock wore off, Liz’s pussy resumed the same hot throbbing she’d felt earlier—only now it was stronger, aching, needful.

  After a while, the girl turned over, onto her hands and knees. The man reinserted his big cock and she let out a sexy moan. “Fuck me,” she begged. “Please fuck me.” The suited man pounded into her, picking up speed, making her whimper and moan. When he slapped her on the ass, she emitted a low growl. “Oooh, yeah, spank me! I’ve been a bad little girl!” Liz spotted beads of sweat trickling down the man’s face as his slick shaft drove in and out of the blonde, who clenched her teeth now, saying, “Yeah, baby, give it to me! Let me have it!” They fucked much more frantically now than when Liz and Jack had first arrived and Liz was beginning to feel intoxicated by watching, drawn into the heat and roughness of their performance. As if reading her needs, Jack reached over and eased his hand high onto her thigh, caressing.

  The man’s groans grew deeper, louder, more intense, until he finally pulled out and shot his seed onto the blonde’s pretty round ass, rubbing it in while she moaned. Liz’s breasts felt so heavy she wished she could unzip her dress and reach inside to fondle them. This blunt, dirty live sex had aroused her wildly—with its bluntness, its very realness.

  As curtains closed on the two “performers,” Jack leaned over and, despite the room’s darkness, she saw the wicked glimmer in his eye. “Wanna sit on my lap, little girl?”

  She couldn’t help smiling—and leaving her chair for his. Snuggling up on him and feeling the warmth of his arms close around her, she leaned to whisper in his ear. “Would you like that? Would you like me to dress up like a little girl for you?”

  His grin was filled with heat. “I like all your surprises, chere. Don’t tell me, just do it sometime.”

  His low whisper and the sexy possibilities his words implied made her cunt surge with moisture. She drew him into a slow, sexy tongue kiss and he ran his hands over her curves. “Just like the way you look tonight,” he went on. “I love that you didn’t tell me, that I just found you in a bar lookin’ like you’re gonna tie me up and make me obey you.”

  She smiled down at him. “Would you like that? Being tied up?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I like all your surprises, and I like that you never seem to stop surprisin’ me.”

  Just then, new music started and they looked up to see the curtains re-open on a new setting—a row of gym lockers and a long wooden bench. Onto the stage came three bouncy, pretty girls in cheerleading uniforms and more ponytails, and within a minute or so, two of them were sitting on the bench kissing each other—slow, soft French kisses that looked undeniably delicate and sensuous taking place between only feminine mouths, feminine faces. Then the third cheerleader kneeled before one of the girls, parting her legs and pushing up her skirt.

  After that, Liz only half-watched the staged seduction, thinking of her own seduction. Thinking of surprising Jack, shocking him, thrilling them both in a whole new way. That first night on Jack’s balcony, Liz had discovered that when she was deeply impassioned, she hardly cared whether anyone was watching them or not—and that was how she felt now.

  And the room was so blessedly dark, and they were in the back, almost in a corner—and she wanted to fuck him so badly she could taste it.

  He was wonderful
ly hard against her leg, and his fingers already toyed with her zipper, easing it down slightly, then brushing his bent knuckles across her soft cleavage as he watched one cheerleader eat another’s pussy. The third girl had taken her tight cheerleading sweater off and was kneading her small, high breasts. Liz almost leaned in to ask him if he’d like it if she dressed up as a cheerleader sometime, but then remembered—he liked all her surprises. So she’d just do it sometime.

  Right now, though, tonight, she was not a cheerleader, or a little girl—she was a dominatrix in black leather, and she was going to remind him of that.

  She turned in his lap until she could bring her leather-clad knees down on either side of him. Meeting his eyes, she saw the shock there.

  “What are you doin’, darlin’?”

  She spoke low but with firm potency. “Fucking you.”

  Chapter 11

  He raised his eyebrows. “Here?”

  “Yes.” With that, she unzipped her dress from the bottom, up to her crotch—just enough for him to see she wasn’t wearing any panties, enough to see her freshly-shaven pussy, and also enough that she’d be able to spread her legs wide enough to ride him.

  He glanced down at what she’d revealed. “Merde.” Then he lifted his eyes back to hers. “Do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, we’re in a crowded room.”

  Where no one is looking, where everyone’s eyes are glued to the cheerleaders. But in true dom form, she resisted pointing that out and instead said, “Shut up and do what I say or you’ll be punished.”

  The light of understanding dawned on his face. “Oh. I see. Mistress Liz.” He smiled. “Damn, darlin’, I should’ve bought you that whip, after all.”

  She ignored his playfulness, wanting to stay in character and see how it felt to play the dominatrix. “Unzip the top of my dress more,” she commanded.

  He glanced around the room, still looking a little doubtful, but also excited—which was exactly what Liz had wanted. Finally, he did as she asked, unzipping it nearly down to her navel.

  “Now spread it open until my nipples are out.”

  He looked dubious, met her gaze. “Are you sure you wanna do this? Here?”

  “Do it,” she snapped lowly.

  So he did, baring her breasts and making her feel ever-so-naughty to think about how many people were in the same room with them, part of her hedonistically even wishing someone would see, watch them, watch her fuck her man.

  “What now?” he asked, suddenly seeming to acquiesce, which pleased her.

  “Lick them.”

  Jack raked his tongue over one of her stiffened nipples and pleasure ricocheted through her body, all the way to her cunt. Moving his mouth to the tip of her other breast, he touched his tongue to the distended nipple, flicking it up and down. Despite herself, she let out a small sound of delight.

  Without further instruction, he took the same nipple into his mouth, suckling her, soft at first, then harder.

  “Yes, suck them,” she whispered, “suck them.”

  He shifted back to her other breast, drawing the peak tight between his strong lips, and his hard sucking reverberated through her.

  “Now open your pants and show me that hot cock.”

  Below the music and the excited moans of the cheerleaders onstage, she heard Jack’s breath grow labored, and as he undid his belt, she thought his hands were actually trembling with excitement. A moment later, his beautifully erect shaft was freed, jutting up out of his underwear. He shoved the fabric down so she could see it pointing rigidly up his abdomen.

  “So big, baby,” she murmured without thought. “Such a big, perfect cock.” She ran one palm up his length, used her fingertip to wipe the pre-come from the end, and then inserted her finger in her mouth.

  “God,” he breathed, and now even his voice sounded quivery, making her relish the power she had over him. “What now, chere?”

  “Rub it against my pussy,” she demanded.

  Without delay, he reached down, took his erection in hand, and grazed the head up and down at the center of her mound. She couldn’t help moving against it, she was too excited to stay still, especially when it passed over her ever-sensitive clit.

  “Oh …” she moaned. “Just like that.”

  He continued raking it up and down, and Liz wanted to feel more of him, so she shifted closer to his body and took the cock from his hand, pressing the whole length of it into her slit, still moving, still rubbing against him. “How does that feel?” she asked.

  He was moving his hips now, too, sliding his big column against her. “So fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasped.

  “Now hold it up,” she said, her own breath labored now, “so I can ride you.”

  Following her command, he steadied his cock as Liz rose onto her knees, impaling herself on him. “Oh yes,” she breathed. It was almost as if he’d driven his shaft nearly up to her navel, the entry sending shockwaves out to her fingers and toes. He was so incredibly large inside her; lowering her whole weight onto his cock brought home to her just how deep within her pussy he was, how well he filled her. As she began to fuck him, she twined her arms around his neck and drew him into a sensual kiss, unable to keep herself from it. She needed his mouth on hers, needed to consume him in any and every way she could.

  As she gyrated on her lover, moving in hot, tight circles that brought her clit into sweet contact with the base of his shaft, she almost forgot where they were; it didn’t matter. All that mattered was having Jack’s enormous cock inside her, and riding him all the way to hot ecstasy. He held her hips, helping her move; he leaned in to suck her breasts, hard, harder. “Yes, so good, baby,” she whispered. “Suck them.” He did, more and more intensely, and it pushed her toward the orgasm that felt only heartbeats away.

  Her cunt was filling with heat, and her tight circles grew smaller, giving her clit more and more strokes against him. Both of them were breathing hard, nearly panting, but it was drowned out by the music and all the moaning and cries on the stage.

  Was anyone watching them? She didn’t look around to see because she really didn’t want to know, yet at the same time, she hoped desperately that someone in the room was watching her fuck him, witnessing the heat that passed between them as she drove her pussy down on his hot cock.

  Finally, it hit—like a hot summer storm that gathered tremendous power before crashing down. Fierce sensations vibrated from her pussy outward until she was lost to them, replete in spasms of blinding pleasure. She bit her lip in order not to scream, but small, driving moans escaped her anyway as the staggering climax shuddered through her.

  “Ah merde, me, too,” she heard Jack moan just as she finished, so she kept riding, riding him hard, and loved watching the agony of pleasure etch itself on his face as he pumped harder, deeper, gritting his teeth as he spilled himself inside her.

  Then his arms closed warm around her and she lay her forehead over on his shoulder—trying to recover from the exhaustion of coming.

  Slowly, she gathered her strength and rose up off of him, choosing to stay that way, up on her knees, until she felt his semen leaking down onto her thigh. One last command. “Rub your come into me,” she whispered.

  He looked in her eyes, his own gaze dark and as filled with smoldering lust as she suspected her own had become. Then he shifted his attention to her pussy, lifting both hands to slowly smear the fluid onto her inner thighs as she straddled him. Finally, he drew his wet hands to her breasts, moving his palms in slick circles on her welcoming mounds. She closed her eyes and basked in the raw sensation of taking him into her in an entirely different, oh-so-sensuous way.

  When he’d finished, she glanced over her shoulder to see the three cheerleaders still on the stage—all of them were naked now but for the ribbons in their hair. The room was awash in their moans as they slid colored vibrators in and out of each other’s pussies.

  “Is Mistress Liz ready to get the hell outta here and go back to my place where I can fuck her so
me more?”

  She turned back to Jack’s dark, hypnotizing gaze. “Mmm, yes, I think Mistress Liz is retired for the evening.” She let a small smile make its way to her lips. “But she hopes she surprised you. Excited you.”

  He simply shook his head, as if in disbelief. “You have to ask?” he said as he zipped her dress back into place.

  “I just want to hear it.”

  She climbed off him, still feeling sexy in her leather and boots. He zipped himself up, too, then took her hand and led her to the door. Once they were outside, back in the wild hustle and bustle and neon of Bourbon Street, he turned to her. “I loved what you just did back there. I love everything you do to me, baby. I love helpin’ you explore this hot, dirty part of you. And I can’t get enough of you.”

  Another arrow of hope pierced Liz’s heart. A man who couldn’t get enough of her might stick around for a while. But she tried not to dwell on a hope that seemed so dangerous, so thin—other lovers had professed devotion to her in the heat of the moment only to regret it later. So she just concentrated on the moment, since that had been working for her well enough so far. She concentrated on the sights and sounds and smells of the Quarter as they walked hand in hand through the party district, and then she focused on the quiet, the dark, the sultry night air, as they traversed the opposite end of Bourbon where Jack’s apartment was located.

  Of course, all of that was about him. She might like to think she was taking in other things, but all of those sights, sounds, tastes, smells—they were Jack’s life, Jack’s world. And she couldn’t wait to get to his place, where she intended to give him all the pleasure he could handle.

  * * * * *

  “Move in with me.”

  She opened her eyes the next morning to find Jack lying next to her, propped on one elbow. Both of them were naked and Liz could scarcely recall a time when she’d slept more peacefully than these last few nights with Jack. But his words shook her from sleep, startling her.

  He kept making this request—a request she would surely dream about if it wasn’t being made only because she had a madman stalking her. What to say? She simply shook her head. “You’re sweet to ask, but…”