Four Degrees of Heat

by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow

  I danced around Jeff, playing with his blond hair yet never getting close enough for his outstretched hands to touch me. I jiggled my ass in his lap then pushed my titties in his face. I watched his chest heave in and out, and I knew he would be easy.

  The other men and women had now moved in closer, circling the two of us, shouting to Jeff what my body looked like. Unbuttoning his shirt, I pulled at his nipples, and when he began to slide down in the chair, I unbuckled his belt. I could see his dick piercing through his shorts, and after gripping it between the cheeks of my ass I turned and untied his blindfold.

  Jeff stood up and reached out to grab me, but he lost his pants in the process, exposing his hard white dick, which stuck out through the opening in his boxers. He tried to adjust himself, and that’s when Mr. Preston pushed Jeff into the water. I followed behind him. Standing against the side of the pool with only the water between us, I allowed Jeff to rub his dick against my ass. That’s when the money came. It littered the pool and the ground around it. By now I could feel Jeff’s dick jerking, so I slid from under him, and he ducked under the water, where I’m sure he came. Mr. Preston stood beside the pool and held a towel for me. Naked, I climbed out.

  Through it all I felt someone staring at me, different from the others. Even when I was turned away from him, I could feel his stare. He’d stood at the bar almost the entire time I’d danced until I’d climbed naked out of the pool, where he’d move in as close as the others. From somewhere behind me I heard Jeff say, “Take all my money, Maxie. I love you.”

  I squeezed my wet hair, wrapped myself in the large towel Mr. Preston held out, and headed back to the house.

  “You were superb. Please tell me you can stay for a while. Everyone wants to meet you,” Mr. Preston said.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t socialize with my clients.”

  “Max, whatever it takes, please stay for a moment to meet some of my guests. I’m sure Jeff would like to meet you.”

  Nothing better than a begging man. “Okay, but only for a moment.”

  “Thank you. I’ll go gather up the money from the pool and be right back.”

  I took a quick shower, pulled my wet hair into a ponytail, and put my clothes on. When I walked out the room, Mr. Preston was there with an envelope.

  Back at the pool I sipped on a glass of wine, surrounded by Jeff and a few of the other men. Funny thing in this business, how a woman’s body is worshipped just for the mere fact that she knows how to move it. Mr. Preston’s guests were full of questions, none that I answered honestly. I suggested that they call my agent if they wanted to use my services in the future. That had a nice ring to it. Made me sound professional. And thenhe came over. I was a little nervous at first because I thought he’d recognized me from somewhere. He tried not to act like he was ogling me, but it was there behind his glasses.

  “I must say, Max, you’re even more beautiful with clothes on.”

  His smile showed picture-perfect white teeth, which contrasted nicely with his brown-sugar skin. He was dressed as preppy as the others in denim shorts and a yellow polo. He obviously had good taste, judging by the expensive silver-framed glasses he wore. I figured him to be a banker or a CPA.

  “Thank you. I didn’t catch your name,” I said, looking down at his powerful legs and well-defined calves. Probably played tennis.

  “Mason. Mason Turner. And yours? Maxie? Is that your real name?”

  “Now, what do you think?”

  “I’d like to be able to see you again.”

  “Certainly, but like I told your friends, you can reach me through my agent.”

  “The Princess is in Charlotte, and something tells me you’re not.”

  “I may not be, but it’s the best way to reach me.”

  Talking with Mason Turner stirred up those feelings of untapped lust, making me want to give him my full name and home phone number. I knew that meant it was time to go.

  “It was nice to meet you, Mason, but I must say good night.”

  “I hate to see you go. But here, this is for you,” he said. I looked down at the two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills he was holding. “There wasn’t any place for me to put this when you climbed out of that pool.”

  The driver was waiting for me with the door open. I called Belinda from the car and told her how successful I’d been. However, I didn’t mention meeting Mason Turner. When we pulled up at the Adams Mark, I tipped the driver a hundred dollars, and he gave me his business card for future use.

  Week Two

  There was no doubt that the money in my safe deposit box was adding up. I talked myself into dancing a few more times, hoping I would earn enough money to look at one of the houses I really wanted. But if I were going to do that, then I would have to be very selective. No bars, no clubs, just private parties, referrals only. So needless to say, I was hoping Mason Turner called.

  Lynn had a few days off, so he went with me to look at houses with the Realtor but was a little surprised when I suggested that we look at a house I had my eye on in Wyndmoor. It was a simple three-bedroom ranch home that sat back from the street and was surrounded by about a half acre of land. He liked the house but couldn’t understand why I was looking at a property I couldn’t afford.

  “Baby, give me about a year. Once I get these trucks on the road, I’ll get you any house you want.”

  “I know, but I just wanted you to see it. I really love it.”

  “Max, wouldn’t you rather we be married and have me home every night before we get ourselves in so much debt?”

  “Married? What are you saying Lynn? That you want to tie the knot? This better not be a proposal.”

  “Not exactly, but I do want you to know my intentions.”

  “That means I could be looking at an engagement ring by, let’s say, Christmas?”

  “You women always want to get engaged for the holidays so you can go back to work bragging.”

  “That’s only when we have something worth bragging about. You get my point,” I said, pulling him back into the house for one more look.

  That night after eating pizza and drinking too many bottles of Corona, I gave Lynn the pleasure of letting him cum in my mouth. Afterward he was comatose. I wasn’t tired, so I went downstairs to the kitchen, where I noticed the message light blinking on my phone. I sat on the edge of the couch and hit speaker.

  “Maxie, it’s me, Belinda. Girl, you must’ve rocked them white boys, ’cause they want you back.”

  Just the sound of her voice and the possibility of dancing made my belly flip. I picked up the receiver and continued to listen.

  “It seems brotha Mason wants you to do a party for him and he’s paying top dollar. I’m leaving you his number ’cause I’ll be outta town for a few days.”

  Here was my chance to add to the stack of money that was growing in my safe deposit box. Regardless of what Lynn thought, I knew that with a few thousand more dollars that house would be mine, and I might even have enough left over to help him with his business.

  I went upstairs to make sure Lynn was still sleeping, then back downstairs. I dialed Mason’s number. We discussed my next performance just like the business deal it was, but there was so much more going on that wasn’t said.

  The party was scheduled for tomorrow evening, but I had to be careful this time because Lynn was still home and I had to figure out how I could get away for a few hours. I decided to tell him that my beautician was hosting a sex toy party, and that when I got home he’d be more than happy I’d gone.

  I’d scheduled my driver to pick me up from where I’d checked in at the Marriott on Market Street. A half hour later I arrived at the Rittenhouse Hotel. When I walked into their lobby, Mason was waiting for me.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Maxie,” he said, this time kissing me on the cheek.

  I wasn’t sure what gave him that authority, but I liked it and really liked how he smelled.

  “I reserved a room where you can change, or you’r
e welcome to stay over if you’d like.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “You seem a little nervous tonight,” he said, unlocking my door.

  “How many guests are there?”

  “I would say there’s about thirty-five women.”

  “Women? I thought this was a bachelor party.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not at all, as long as they’re paying.”

  As I walked past him to enter my room, Mason placed his hand in the center of my back, between my shoulderblades, guiding me through the doorway.

  “Max, I just wanted a reason to see you dance again.” With that, Mason left me alone.

  I walked around the room cursing Belinda, who wasn’t answering her cell phone. I couldn’t figure out who’d set me up for this. This Mason must be a sick bastard, wanting me to dance for a bunch of lesbians. My cell phone rang.

  “Belinda, what the hell is going on?”

  “Maxie, chill the fuck out. You can do this, it’s nothing but a bunch of horny bitches.”

  “Yeah, well, what’s up with this Mason character?”

  There was a knock at the door. I changed the tone of my voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Just give me a minute,” I replied, then whispered into the phone, “Look, Belinda, I don’t like this shit. We have to talk, and you better answer that damn phone when I call back.”

  “Aw, girl. Go shake that ass.”

  Since I would be dancing for women and, more importantly, Mason, I chose sheer black stockings, a strappy red garter belt, no panties, and a red see-through bra. When I stepped out of the room in my red robe, Mason was waiting for me.

  The suite was filled with candles, and I could hear the women laughing as a half-naked male dancer walked past me, his fist filled with one-dollar bills. Mason already knew that nothing less than a twenty touched my skin.

  I’d selected a song by Fabulous, “Into You,” and as the song began to play I turned to ask Mason if he knew the rules. He never answered. I tried to look at the crowd through the candlelight, but there were no familiar faces, just black, white, and Latino, all half drunk. Even the scent of herb filtered through the room.

  I could see this would be easy, so I sashayed past the women and made my way to the bride-to-be. She was a woman of average beauty, but it was obvious she had money from the diamond jewelry she sported. She was probably my age, dressed in jeans and a halter top. I whispered in her ear before I started.

  “Are you sure I’m what you want?”

  She obviously wasn’t sure what she wanted, because her bulging eyes just stared at the brown nipples that poked out from my bra when I tossed my robe across the room in Mason’s direction. I danced away from her through the crowd of women, and then I moved in close to the bride and rubbed my hands over her bare shoulders. I turned around and shook my ass in her face and then placed my legs on either side of her and began thrusting my pelvis onto hers as she squirmed in her chair. The other women were going wild. They loved me, and I had to admit I was enjoying watching the bride’s nipples harden under my touch. Her friends began stuffing twenty- and fifty-dollar bills in my bra and garter belt. Who were they that they would spend this type of money to see a woman dance?

  That’s when I knew I could take it further. So with one leg on her shoulder I slid off my stockings, one leg at a time, and then bent over her, my pussy spread open close to her face. This position also gave the women behind me a clear view of the crack of my ass, and they made use of it by rubbing on my cheeks. That’s when I undid the bride’s halter top and let it fall in her lap. Her small erect titties were close enough that all I had to do was brush mine against hers. She screamed out. The women were standing so close to me that I could barely breathe. The music was almost over, so I backed away from the bride to make my exit. Instead of feeling one of the women behind me, I felt Mason’s erection brush against my naked ass. The music didn’t end. I heard Ashanti’s sweet voice sing, “I really like what you do to me,” and with that Mason unsnapped my bra.

  He whispered in my ear, his lips touching its lobe. “She wants to touch you.”

  The women were watching, and I didn’t want the moment to seem awkward, so I danced against him and what felt like a weapon between his legs. I wasn’t supposed to be getting aroused, but I could feel my juices bubbling up inside me.

  “That’s not what I do, especially with women.”

  “I think you want to.”

  I tried to dance away from him and back into the crowd of women, but they were cheering Mason to take me.

  I teased him, his glasses steaming up as I brushed my nipples across his lips.

  “That’s not my job.”

  “Why not let her taste you, Max? I have a thousand dollars that says you’ll like it.”

  I wanted to tell him that I’d rather have him taste me, but when I looked down and saw the money gathered at my feet, I decided I’d do it for Mason. I don’t know what it was about Mason, but he made me reveal a side of me I didn’t know existed.

  When I turned around, the drunken bride was waiting breathlessly on the edge of her chair. Before I could even get close, she pulled me into her. Her friends stood close by, encouraging her, “Suck her titties…Eat some pussy…Go ’head, I dare you.”

  She clumsily filled each of her hands with my breasts and stuck her tongue out to lick my nipples. I wanted to see Mason’s face as I performed for him, so after I pushed my breasts into her mouth, I moved away, turned around, and clapped my ass in her face. Mason was right, this bride knew what she wanted, and she pulled me to her, opening me up and tasting a mouthful of the cream that had built up in me. Her friends were relentless. “She’s eating it, she’s eating it…What’s it taste like?…I want some too.”

  But I ignored them and instead watched Mason and his hard dick that stuck to the side of his leg, and before I knew it I’d pushed down on that bride’s tongue and came, right in her face.

  That move created so much excitement between these women that I thought they’d all want to taste me. It was like being a rock star; they wanted whatever piece of me they could touch. So without waiting for Mason to escort me, I made my exit back to my room.

  I heard Mason knocking on the door, but I ignored him and stepped into the shower. What the hell was wrong with me? This shit had gotten out of control. I’d let a woman eat me. I’d even kissed her. How far would they have gone? Would all of them have wanted to touch me? Was the money even worth it? All of a sudden I started laughing. It wasn’t me, it was them. I was a professional doing a job. Fuck them horny bitches and their big diamond rings. She’d be the one standing at the altar with the taste of my juices lingering in her mouth, while my bed was littered with her money.

  As expected, Mason was waiting for me, probably expecting me to be pissed that he’d set me up. He appeared nervous. I assumed it was because he’d gotten more of a show than he’d expected.

  “You have my envelope?”

  “Of course, including the tip for your extra service. Are you okay?” he asked, handing me a brown envelope stuffed with money. I took it and continued walking, heading for the elevator bank. He followed close behind me.

  “I’m fine, but please know that’s not something I do on a regular basis.”

  He stood close to me in the elevator, but I sensed he didn’t know what to say. We both knew that my performance had been for him. When we walked into the lobby, the doorman informed me that my driver had had an emergency and had to leave. Mason took advantage of the opportunity.

  “Would you like me to give you a ride?”

  I knew I should’ve declined his offer and taken a cab, but I was drawn to him, so I answered, “I’d appreciate that.”

  We stood in silence until the valet pulled up in his Mercedes.

  “Would you like to get something to eat?” he asked before the doorman opened my door.

  I wanted him to
think I had another client. “No, you can drop me off at the Marriott.”

  I would’ve loved to have gone to eat with Mason, maybe even invited him up to my room, but that would be crossing the line from business to pleasure. And then there was Lynn to think about, who was home waiting for me.

  “No problem,” he said, pulling into the street. “Max, would you be interested in dancing for me again?”

  “I’m not so sure about your jobs.”

  “Trust me, it won’t be like tonight. When I get the details, I’ll give Belinda a call…unless there’s a number where I can reach you.”

  Against my better judgment, I gave him my cell phone number.

  I waited until Mason pulled off, then had my Jeep retrieved from the parking garage. When I got in that night, I crept up the stairs past Lynn’s apartment. I was just halfway up the steps when I heard his door open.

  “Maxine, where you been? I been waiting up for you. Why are you carrying that suitcase?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. What if he wanted to look in it? He knew I hadn’t spent the night out, so I quickly thought up an excuse.

  “It’s dry cleaning that’s been in my truck since I returned from Charlotte. I’m hoping it hasn’t mildewed from this weather.”

  “Like I said, woman, where have you been? It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

  “Don’t you remember I told you I was going to that sex toy party? We went to a club afterward.”

  “All right. So, lemme see what you got for us.”

  “It has to be ordered, silly. Let me put this stuff away, and I’ll be back down.”

  His upturned lips let me know that I hadn’t convinced him about my whereabouts, but I knew I had a way of making him forget all about it.