The women touched up their hair and makeup in the office bathroom, and compared nights.
“I gave so many blowjobs, my jaw hurts,” Kate said with a laugh. “I had the coach guy, too. My abs are so damned sore.”
The girls all called him the coach because he made them do crunches while he fucked them with a glass dildo. He pushed it in and had them crunch up, which pushed the dildo out. He pushed it back in when the woman relaxed back down, and then let it slide almost all the way out when she crunched back up again. Sometimes, he’d stretch out on the bed and make the girl do pushups over him to give a blow job – up and down, up and down.
He always ended it by fucking them while they were in downward dog.
Sandy put two hundred dollars’ worth of twenties in her purse and locked the rest of the night’s take in her glove compartment. Jiggy would be taking her car back to the B&B, and it would be safe there.
Chapter Six
Vickie watched the overweight but beautiful drag queen from Miami do her raunchy comedy act from the wings. Vickie was up next and would be lip-synching The Devil Went Down to Georgia while a drag king danced the part of Johnny with his fiddle, and another drag queen danced the part of the devil.
Vickie’s inner bird noticed Sandy within moments of taking the stage — dressed in red, sitting at a table in the back with a friend. They both had drinks and were laughing. Sandy put her arm around the other woman when the waiter neared, as if protecting her. It didn’t look sexual, but the two women weren’t uncomfortable hugging. Interesting.
Tonight was their Georgia Songs night, and the finale would have them all on stage, lip synching and dancing to a female cover version of Chattahoochee.
Vickie went off stage and another queen came on to do Midnight Train to Georgia. Vickie grabbed a waiter backstage, pointed out Sandy and her friend, and told him, “Tell them drinks are on Vickie, and tell them they’re invited backstage when Chattahoochee ends. Don’t forget to whisper the password to the one in the red shirt.” He remembered Sandy protecting her friend, and added, “Oh, and work it out so you handle their table the rest of the night. The big guy’s scaring the one in pink. Probably doesn’t mean to, but tell him I’ll consider it a personal favor if he’ll let you take care of them.”
“No problem. He’s good with swapping. I’ll give him one of my tables close to his section.” Vickie had no doubt the hunky man was good with swapping.
The final number was a blast, and Vickie danced and pranced in her platform boots, taking up the whole front of the stage while the other queens danced behind her.
Everyone had three eight-counts out front during the final moments of the song, and Vickie paid attention to who received the most applause. The club’s management reserved the right to override her decisions, but they never had, so she was the one who decided which queens were invited back — and audience reaction was a big part of her decision.
Also, whether they were a cunt or not. She didn’t much like the cunts.
“YOU DON’T SEEM SURPRISED to be invited backstage,” Kate said when the waiter left.
“Ummm. Vickie’s gonna call me Sandy, if we go.”
“If?” Kate asked, and then asked it again, more pointed. “If? Are you kidding me with this? Of course we’re going backstage! Talk, girlfriend.”
“He’s Vic when he isn’t Vickie.”
“And?”
“He’s beautiful. I mean, not in a feminine way, in a totally masculine way. He pulls off both looks with style.”
“And?”
“We slept together today, but nothing happened. We just slept. Napped.”
Kate sighed. “You haven’t dated anyone since you came to work for the MC.”
Sandy shook her head, agreeing.
“You can fuck the guys you’re dating. It’s okay.”
Sandy laughed. “I know, but we just met this morning, and within a few hours — over breakfast — we’d learned each other’s deepest, darkest secrets.” Sandy licked the rim and downed half her quite-large margarita in one long drink. “He calls me baby-girl.” She sucked in a piece of ice, crunched it, and swallowed. “Oh, and Prince hates him.”
The new waiter came back to bring more drinks, and Sandy didn’t feel the need to protect Kate from this one. The first guy had been big and burly, and she could feel Kate’s reticence to be close to him.
When the final number ended, the women walked to the back, drinks in hand. A big, obviously gay bouncer stood in front of the door leading backstage. Sandy motioned for him to lean down, and she whispered into his ear.
“We’d like to enter through the back but we don’t have lube.”
He grinned, stepped to the side, and opened the door for them.
People were running every direction backstage, and Sandy asked someone carrying what looked like a piano bench, “Where’s Vickie?”
“Dressing room, doll. First door on the left down that hall.” He nodded the direction with his head since his hands were full.
Sandy put her arm around Kate, and they walked in the direction of the nod.
Vickie was sitting on one end of a long counter, with mirrors and lights set up all the way down the counter, and a backless bench in front of each station. The queens were all in various stages of undress, and Sandy stood just outside the door.
“Oh, girls! At the door!” A large man waved them in. “You’ve made it this far, you may as well take those final steps.” From the audience, it’d looked like he wore a one piece evening gown, but now he had the skirt part on and was bare from the waist up. He no longer wore the wig and still had his makeup on, and the look was disconcerting.
“Baby-girl!” said Vickie from her perch. She stood and walked to them with long, confident strides despite the scary platform heels. “I’m glad you could make it. Come, sit while I change. Did you enjoy the show? Introduce me to your friend!”
“This is Kate. Kate, this is Vickie.”
“Lovely Kate. I arranged for a change in waiters. I’m sorry the big guy scared you.”
“Thanks for the drinks,” said Sandy. “How did you know she wasn’t comfortable?”
“Your arm went around her protectively anytime he came within two tables of you.” Vickie looked at Kate. “He’s harmless, but he’s pretty fuckin’ big and you’re just a little thing. You work with my baby-girl?”
Kate looked at Sandy, unsure of how to answer, and Sandy said, “Yeah. We got off about the same time and decided to catch the end of the show.”
The entire room laughed, and someone at the end of the counter said, “Maybe some of us should get off together! Any takers?”
Sandy rolled her eyes, and Vickie walked both women to her bench, where she sat and faced the mirror. Her blonde Jessica Simpson-ish wig was on a Styrofoam head, and she peeled huge false eyelashes off and put them in a little container.
Someone down the line had stood and started taking his clothes off, and when he made it down to a g-string, Sandy asked, “Should we be here? We can step out.”
“You’re fine. No such thing as a bashful drag queen. People are in and out of the dressing room all the time. Only fully enforced rule we have is no phones can be out. If it’s in your pocket or purse, it has to stay there.” As if to make a point, Vickie bent to take her boots off, set them to the side, and then stood to take the Daisy Duke short-shorts off.
Sandy didn’t want to stare at the flesh colored g-string, but she couldn’t imagine where a dick might be hidden.
Vickie folded the shorts, put them in a duffel on her counterspace, pulled some jeans out, and stepped into them. Vic jeans, not Vickie jeans.
He stood, unbuttoned and untied the crop top, and slid it off to reveal a bra. A size D, if Sandy had to guess. When he took the bra off, she realized the breasts were part of the bra. There were even nipples on the bra.
“Excuse me a minute. We only have two sinks, so we have to take turns washing our face. Be right back.”
He walked
to the other end of the room, and Sandy put her lips at Kate’s ear. “Are you okay? I can call Jiggy to take us back to our cars if you aren’t comfortable.”
Kate put her arms around Sandy and spoke into her friend’s ear. “Are you kidding? I’m never going to be in a drag dressing room ever again. Don’t you dare make me leave.”
Sandy chuckled, and one of the queens said, “Ya’ll gonna kiss for us? That is H-O-T, hot.”
“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Ya’ll don’t need a room. We’ll clear off some counterspace for you. I don’t do girls, but watching ya’ll do each other would kick ass.”
“Baby-girl is mine, ladies,” Vic said from the back, his voice fully male without a touch of Vickie in it.
“Damn,” Kate said into Sandy’s ear. “He has the fucking voice.”
“He does,” Sandy agreed.
“Word gets out you like the ladies and your fees will double,” one of the men said, his voice now clearly male instead of female, too.
Most of the room laughed, and Vic walked back to them, wiping his face with a dry towel, and sexier than sin in jeans and shirtless, barefoot.
His gaze met hers — heated brown eyes, focused entirely on her. He stopped a foot in front of them. “Are you and Kate out for a night on the town, or can I convince the two of you to join me for a late meal at Waffle House?”
“Oh, if you can drop me off at my car, at the B&B, I’ll head home,” Kate told him. “Or I can call Jiggy to come get me.”
“Jiggy?”
“One of the guys who watches out for us. When Gramps found out where we were going, he had Jiggy drive us so we wouldn’t have to deal with parking, and maybe having to walk a block or two to the club.”
“I’ll get you back to your car, sweet Kate,” said Vic, “but you’re more than welcome to eat with us first.”
Kate shook her head, “I’m good.”
Vic waited until Kate was in her car and on her way out of the parking lot before he followed. “I love the chivalry,” Sandy told him, “but the MC won’t let anything happen to her on their property.”
“All well and good, but that girl’s been hurt, and far be it for me to risk her being hurt again.”
“How can you tell?”
“I could tell from the stage, baby-girl. PTSD signs every time a male with a certain build came near. How does she work as... how does she survive doing that job?”
“The MC knows what kind of men to put on her calendar. Really, she’s okay now, but I guess that’s partly because we all keep her sheltered and protected.” Sandy considered her friend. “No, she’s strong. She’s okay because that’s just who she is. She might be terrified, but she’ll stand up for herself now, if she has to.” But everyone sheltered her because they didn’t want her to have to.
“How was your evening?” Vic asked.
Sandy considered all the ways she could answer, and finally said, “If you’re asking about work, it was okay. Nothing bad, nothing especially good. Just work. After work was most enjoyable, but I think you’re asking about...” She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.
“Yeah. Work.”
He breathed in. “In the interest of full disclosure, you had some serious skin time with a wolf and three human males, and another female besides Kate. I smell Kate, but not the way I would if you’d been intimate. I also smell Gramps, but maybe just enough for a hug.”
“Accurate.”
“Can you tell me about the woman? Did she hire you?”
“Coworker. Someone paid for two of us at the same time, for an hour. We, ummm, serviced him together, and we kissed and stuff, too.” She sighed. “I don’t want to tell you details. For one thing, we don’t fuck and tell at the B&B, and for another, it feels awkward.”
“Okay, but we needed to have this conversation once, so you’ll understand how much I can smell, and so I understand why I may sometimes smell women.”
He pulled into the Waffle House and shut the engine off. “Fair warning. I’m about to eat enough for five people. Please take it in stride.”
Chapter Seven
The place was packed, but a group of young-twenties men were walking out when they walked in, and a server was cleaning the table as they neared.
“Welcome to Waffle House! What can I get ya’ll to drink?”
“Hot chocolate,” said Sandy. “With lots of whipped cream.”
Vic ordered an orange juice and leaned in, his mouth at Sandy’s ear. “Baby-girl, you just made me rock hard with your order. Can’t wait to see you licking the whipped cream off your lips.”
Sandy sat in the booth, thoughtful. So many ways to do the little-girl thing in real life, outside of the constructed scenes she’d done for customers. She’d never expected to have little-girl fun with hot chocolate while sitting in Waffle House, but now she was looking forward to it.
She expected Vic to sit across from her, and looked up in surprise when he sat beside her and scooted her farther into the booth.
“Need to touch you,” he told her, and as if to demonstrate, he put his arm around her.
Instead of arguing, she snuggled into him.
“Well, aren’t ya’ll just the cutest couple.” The server put their drinks in front of them. “Ya’ll ready to order?”
“I just want some hash browns, scattered and smothered.”
Vic ordered a salad, a chicken sandwich, a hamburger, some waffles, and a ton of sides. When he finished, he said, “Baby-girl will have two scrambled eggs with cheese to go with her hash browns.”
“I’m not that hungry,” she protested.
“Put the order in,” he assured the server. “I’m paying for it, whether she eats it or not.”
When the server was gone, Vic told her, “Since you aren’t that hungry, you’ll eat the eggs first, and then the potatoes. If you hadn’t ordered the hot chocolate, I might let the potatoes stand without protein, but you can’t have hash browns and hot chocolate without something nutritious, baby-girl.”
He was right, of course, but she was a grown-up. She could order her own damned food.
As soon as the thought went through her head, Sandy’s insides ignited because she saw how this was going to go. Being a little in real life was going to be so much more intense.
She nodded. “Okay, for now, but we need to...” She looked for the right wording, couldn’t come up with it, so made up her own. “Define some parameters.”
He chuckled. “We need to negotiate terms, baby-girl, and we will. Now look at me and drink your hot chocolate — without looking down or away. Eye contact, baby-girl.”
She did, and every nerve in her body came alive. And then, when she licked the whipped cream off her lips, and Vic wiped it from her nose and held his finger for her to lick, electricity buzzed through her veins, arousal swam in her head, and her clit swelled and thrummed in time to her heart.
Partway through eating their meal, she told him, “I texted my neighbor to let her know I’d be home a few hours later than expected. You’re welcome to come home with me, but I can’t go to your place because I need to pick Prince up. She’d be happy to keep him longer, but he’ll get worried and then will be an asshole for days if I leave him there all night.” Probably not the most suave way to invite him to spend the night, but she’d managed it without making an idiot of herself. Maybe.
“I should have everything I might need in my go-bag for the club. Another set of street clothes, toothbrush, face cream.”
“Face cream.” Dating a drag queen was going to take a little getting used to. She hadn’t commented on the essential oils the night before, but she’d never dated anyone so fluent in them. Not that she minded, because he was exactly right in his choices.
“I have an appointment Tuesday afternoon for a full body waxing, from the neck down,” he said with a grin. “When do you go, and where?”
He’d seen her naked when she was in the tub, and it hadn’t been that long since her last appointment, so of course he fi
gured it out. “I went Thursday, after my last class of the day. I have a standing appointment every other week.”
She told him where, and he nodded.
“I have to go every week, and my place caters to gay men, which we both know I’m not, but they know what I need and how to wax around the cockle area.” He grinned. “And Vickie likes to wear short-shorts.”
He’d said they’d negotiate later, but there was something she needed to know now. She spoke so low, he only heard her because he was a shifter.
“Please tell me you don’t like to do the diaper thing.”
He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “If it’s a hard limit for you, we won’t do it.”
“You like it?”
“It isn’t a deal-breaker, baby-girl. I’ve been known to pull it out for special scenes, but it’s just an extra, to spice things up every once in a while. It isn’t, like, a weekly or even monthly thing. More like maybe once or twice a year, but we don’t have to, if it isn’t your thing.”
“I’d be okay with it a couple of times a year for a special scene, but not just for the sake of...”
He gave her time to finish her sentence, and when she didn’t, he asked, “You had a bad experience?”
She looked around. “I can’t talk about this here.”
He snugged her in closer. “Our server’s probably heard all manner of things talked about, and everyone around us is involved in their own conversation, but I’ll let you drop it for now.” He let go of her with another kiss to the top of the head, and went back to eating. “You’re going to have to tell me some of your experiences, so I know what works for you and what doesn’t, and where we’re starting out. That isn’t going to be negotiable.”
“I’m realizing that work stuff is all pretend, but it’s going to be... real, with you.”
“It is,” he agreed, “but only as real as you’re comfortable with. I’m letting you see the possibilities, now, but I can only go so far until we’ve defined our boundaries.”
Cocky Queen Page 5