Fantasy (Lipstick)

by Hobbs, Allison

  The club was in a high-class neighborhood and was so discreet you could only hear the music as you drove by, but the minute you got to the corner of the block there was silence. I parked my Expedition in the dimly lit lot and made my way into the building, ready to see some action.

  This place was very classy, and the women there were all on point. These women weren’t like the ones you saw around the way with black ash on their stomachs and stretch marks from having ten kids. These women were beautiful without a flaw on their bodies. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe not, but these chicks were on point. I took a seat in the corner and ordered a drink from the topless waitress that came to take my order. She was back in no time with my tequila sunrise, and I paid and tipped her nicely, afterwards sitting back and enjoying the show.

  There was a girl exiting the stage, and she spent at least five minutes picking up all the money that covered the stage floor. The men in this establishment were dressed to the nines in business suits, and I spotted several briefcases resting by their stools on the floor, so I’m sure they were spending some money up in here. Once the performer left the stage, the topless waitress that served my drink was wiping down the pole and removing scattered items that were left by the previous dancer.

  Soon after, the lights in the club went lower, and just about every man in the house that wasn’t already occupied was gathered around the stage as the deejay announced Like Silk to the stage. Jamie Foxx’s Do What It Do could be heard in the surround-sound speakers, and a hush fell over the crowd as she made her presence on to the stage.

  I kept my eyes on the stage as I listened to the lyrics of Jamie’s song while watching her body dance to the beat. I felt myself getting hot under the collar and had to check myself, reminding myself that women were not my thing. The lyrics boomed in my ears and the way Like Silk’s body twisted and turned on the stage had my thong soaked, and I couldn’t help myself.

  Whatcha wanna do? You wanna get high? You wanna get fired up?

  As the music played, Like Silk moved her body in a slow wind, slowly twirling around the pole in her cowgirl outfit. She had on a black studded crotchless thong and a top with a whip attached to her hip. Her ten-gallon hat was black with her stage name spelled out in rhinestones around the middle, all matching her thigh-high boots. I was stuck with my mouth wide open at the way she performed.

  Whatcha wanna do? You wanna get sexed? You wanna get tied up?

  As she worked the pole, I rocked back in forth in my seat enjoying the show. She grabbed the pole, and spun around it in a quick motion, landing almost at the top with only her legs wrapped around the pole. She came down in a slow circle, popping one butt cheek then the other, all the way down until her back touched the floor. I was speechless.

  Get your rodeo ride up, baby girl lift those thighs up.

  She moved her body around the stage floor like she didn’t have any bones in her back. The floor sparkled from the body glitter trail she left behind. I sat in amazement at what she was doing, and knew I had to talk to her before I left here. She snaked her body into a standing position, leaving her cowgirl boots laid on the floor. Using the whip that was attached to her hip, she performed several tricks as if we were in a real-live rodeo, keeping to the beat at the same time.

  I think you better wise up, ’cause I’m about to rise up.

  The men on the stage went wild as she jumped through the hoops she made with the whip then came out of her top. Her breasts looked to be about a 40DD, but they stood up perfectly and were kissed with chocolate nipples that even made my mouth water. Grinding her body down to the floor, she ran the handle of the whip up her leg and inserted the top of it into her vagina, afterwards taking it out and allowing one of the many men around the stage to lick her honey from it. Money was flying everywhere as if it were falling from the ceiling; and while they were occupied, I went to talk to the owner about letting me speak to her privately. After insuring him that I wasn’t scouting her for another spot, he allowed me to wait for her in her dressing room.

  I only had to wait a good ten minutes before she came in holding her props and a handful of money. She dropped some of her belongings when she opened the door and saw me in the room. I rushed over, and helped her pick up some things, my hands coming into contact with her baby-soft skin in the process. I don’t know what I was expecting her to smell like, but she had a light floral scent emanating from her that put me at ease.

  I explained to her why I was in the room, giving her a little background on what I did for a living and why I wanted her on my list. At first she was hesitant, but I assured her that what I did was private and she didn’t have to worry about her reputation being put out on the line. It took a little enticing, but when I started talking dollars and how much she could make in one session, she was all for it.

  “Okay, but before you go, I do have one request.”

  “And what’s that?” I said, stopping mid-pose as I was moving to get down off the table.

  Instead of her answering, she walked over to where I was standing and kissed me on the lips. I had never been with a woman before, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be with her now; but Like Silk was quick, and before I could protest, she had my shirt unbuttoned and my short skirt high up around my waist. She was kissing me and backing me up onto the table at the same time, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I didn’t want to.

  I closed my eyes and opened my legs so that she could stand between them, her mouth moving from my lips to my pebblehard nipples. A slight gasp left my mouth when her soft tongue made contact with my already hot skin, and the handle of her whip parted my lower lips. The pearl handle felt cool against my clit as she rubbed it quickly in a side-to-side motion, causing me to cum almost immediately. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, she slid the handle into me until it reached the back, and worked it slowly in and out of me.

  If someone had told me a stripper would be freaking me this morning I wouldn’t have believed them, but she moved with the same skill as she did on the stage, and I knew I would have to charge top dollar for her. I was losing my breath slowly, and what little air I had in my lungs rushed out when I felt her tongue touch my clit. She never moved the handle out, and her tongue worked me until I was practically screaming for her to let up. By the time she was done, my hair was plastered to my forehead, and my lipstick was gone.

  “Make sure you get top dollar,” she whispered into my ear right before she ushered me out of the room. I got all of her information from the owner, and once I got home I made sure to call Symphony with the news.

  A few days went by before I heard from my client. She told me dinner was a smash, and she hadn’t had a chance to call because they had been getting buck wild in his condo for the past couple of days. She was just now getting home. Those are the things I like to hear when I set a client up. A few of my clients went on to marry their dates, and a lot of those same married couples asked me to headhunt other couples that were in the swinging business.

  Dr. Charles and Cynthia Montgomery was my reason for being up at six in the morning and rushing to catch a flight out to California. They were recommended to me from another couple that I helped out a few months ago, and her husband was the sole source behind this donkey that I’m toting around.

  Anyway, they lived in a beautiful mini mansion in Bel Air, and in their line of business it wasn’t that simple for them to approach a couple in the matter. A good friend of mine told me about a swing party that was going down in one of the mansions not too far from their house, and I wanted them to be there.

  As mentioned, total discretion has to be in effect at all times because the people that I dealt with had lives to go back to once all of the sexing was over. So, I had to ensure that my sources were accurate, and that everything ran smoothly.

  Once I exited the plane, there was a driver waiting outside for me. He was a nice, tall, handsome white guy with eyes the color of the ocean in Jamaica, and looked just as clean as the shiny crea
m stretch Rolls Royce that was parked behind him. The expression on his face must to have mirrored mine because I liked what I saw, and he looked as if he felt the same. He took my bags from the cart I had pushed through the airport and loaded them in the trunk of the town car.

  “Make yourself comfortable, we have at least an hour’s ride in this traffic before we arrive at the estate”, he said in a deep baritone voice that, if I had closed my eyes, would have easily made me think the late great Barry White had spoken to me.

  I didn’t say anything; I just moved to the door he opened for me and melted into the butter-soft interior of the sweet-smelling car. Periodically I caught his eye watching me through the rearview mirror. After about the fifth time, I decided to give him a show. By now we were about forty-five minutes into the drive, and I would definitely make that last fifteen very entertaining.

  Moving to the edge of the spacious seat, I pulled my flare skirt up and folded it across my stomach. I removed my thong panties so that my entire lower half was exposed. I started by sucking on my finger and using the moisture left on it from my mouth to rub across my clit. I smiled a wicked smile as I watched him try to drive the car straight and watch me at the same time.

  Using my other hand to open my lips, I used my free hand to finger myself, moaning out loud and tossing my head from side to side. Spotting the bottle of Dom resting in the ice bucket, I first grabbed an ice cube, pushed it inside, and used my walls to push it back out repeatedly until the ice was gone. When I set up to grab the bottle out I saw that he had took the liberty of releasing his erection from the confines of his pants and was stroking his length with one hand while he controlled the wheel with the other.

  I smiled at him, and leaned back again. The top of the bottle was smooth, and the bottle was a little heavy, but I worked it the best way I could. I first rubbed the smooth cap over my clit and down my slit until the top was at my opening. I began pushing the bottle in slowly, and the driver swerved to the right, almost banging into the car next to us. He quickly regained control of the vehicle, and I finished my show.

  I moved the bottle in and out of me at a snail’s pace, and I closed my eyes listening to his heavy breathing and picturing a real dick inside of me. We must have exploded at the same time, because I heard him moan loudly, and when I sat up I could see his cream covering the steering wheel and the front of his suit jacket. We were at the gates of the house by then, and from my positioning in the back I could see him wiping his mess up with a handkerchief. I rose up, and wiped my juices from the bottle and set it back in the ice bucket as if nothing had happened, afterwards straightening my clothes and primping in the mirror to make sure I looked good.

  The good doctor and his wife greeted me with open arms, and after a brief tour of their estate I was shown to my suite, where I would be for the next couple of days. Later that night I would be escorting them to the swing party, and I needed my beauty rest because those parties always get wild.

  By nine we were dressed and in the car, on our way to a night of pleasure. Dr. Montgomery cracked open the bottle of Dom as soon as we got in the car, and I smiled and glanced at the driver as I held my cup over for a drink. Mrs. Montgomery was a nervous wreck, but I assured her she would be fine, and to just relax and have a good time.

  My connection met us at the door, and after a brief introduction we were escorted into the main foyer for the party. Now, most people expect to walk into a swing party and see people having sex all over the place, and everyone walking around naked. Don’t get me wrong, though; in some establishments it is exactly that way. But normally when you have a private party it’s a little more structured, and although by the end of the night it may be a wild encounter, you have time to warm up.

  We walked in, me on one arm, his wife on the other. I greeted a few people that I recognized and peeped out a few men and women that would be great for my team. Most of the people came as couples, but there were a few singles floating around, such as myself. We mixed and mingled and were having a good time. When I saw the Montgomerys walk off to a room with another couple, that was my time to do some investigating.

  I must say, I was still curious about the driver. I didn’t immediately rush out to him, and I made a couple of connections while inside. Stuffing the business cards that I collected into my clutch, I snuck out of the front door discreetly and walked down the lit trail to the car.

  The driver was watching a small television when I got up to the car. He didn’t notice me until I got right up on the car and tapped on the window. He jumped a little and rolled down the window when he recognized my face.

  “Hello, madam. Are you leaving the party so soon? We just got here under an hour ago.”

  “Actually,” I said with a devilish grin lighting my face. “I came to see if we could finish what we started earlier. Maybe roll around the back near the garden where no one can see us.”

  He turned the television off quickly and was out of the car and in my face before I could change my mind. I didn’t say anything; I just led him around the side of the mansion and toward the gazebo that I had spied from the balcony when I was in the house. This garden looked just like something out of a fairy tale, a lake with swans floating in it and everything.

  I had opted to leave my panties at home because I knew I would try to get back with the driver before the night was over. We found a nice, heavily wooded area where we could see if someone was approaching, but they wouldn’t see us until they got up close.

  I stood taking in the beauty of the garden, and the driver dropped to his knees in the grass and put my leg up over his shoulder. He didn’t waste any time connecting his tongue with my clit, and I held my gown up with one hand and his head with the other, keeping my balance. I had to stop him and pull the dress off so that I could lie down in the grass and enjoy the tongue bath I was receiving.

  He fucked me with his tongue and fingers, and I was just about going crazy. I wanted him inside of me so bad. Before I could ask, he pulled a condom out of his pants pocket and slid it on. For a white boy he was beyond blessed, and soon after I was able to feel that blessing inside of my walls.

  He dug in me deep, and it took all of the strength I had to be as quiet as possible so that we wouldn’t get any attention from the house. He sat down in the grass and pulled me on top of him, and I rode him without mercy while I held onto him around his neck. He had it going on like that, and I was thoroughly satisfied with his skills.

  We rushed and got dressed when we were done, and I snuck back into the house to check on the Montgomery couple I got in just in time to see them coming out of the room. Mrs. Montgomery’s hair was tussled all over the place, and both wore satisfying smiles on their faces that mirrored the couple opposite of them. I took Mr. Montgomery’s other arm, and we made our exit. We were home in no time.

  I enjoyed the stay—and the driver—for the rest of the weekend, and was sad I had to leave when Monday came around. I didn’t count the money they paid me until I was back on the plane, and they paid me more than triple what I charged them for the setup. When I moved the money envelope, to turn my phone off as the stewardess had instructed, the drivers card fell off it and in my lap. I smiled to myself and programmed his number into the phone before shutting it off. I would definitely be contacting him again.

  Once I got home I was able to relax, but only for a couple of days. A surgeon that I had met in D.C. contacted me about a date for Saturday night, giving me only a day and a half to come up with someone. After taking his call, and finding out exactly what he was looking for, I went to pack a bag for D.C. As always, the job of a headhunter is never done.

  K. Elliott presents Fantasy

  Cater To You

  Danielle Santiago

  “Auntie, I don’t want to ever in my life hear about how you suck Davie’s dick. You done fucked up my whole mental,” Ricky said with her tiny, cute, mocha-colored round face screwed up. She tried desperately to erase the image of her Aunt Miranda performing oral
sex on her Uncle Davie.

  “I’m just trying to tell your little ass what you need to know about keeping a nigga. It ain’t all about staying in shape and keeping your hair and nails done. All that shit is a plus, but you gotta keep your man satisfied, if not . . . ”

  “What you mean, if not?”

  “Ricky, what’s the one thing Auntie told you on your wedding day when your mother was kicking all that sentimental shit?”

  A smile crept across Ricky’s face as she quoted her aunt’s favorite line, “Never let your man leave the house hungry or horny—”

  Cutting Ricky off, Miranda jumped in finishing the sentence, “’Cause another bitch will surely feed ’em and fuck ’em. Now have Ming Lee drop them kids off over here so you and Quentin can have some alone time.”

  “Auntie, our nanny’s name is Anna, not Ming Lee or Sue Chin.”

  “Whatever her name is, have her drop them chaps off over here. You need to do like them little Destiny Child girls said, and spend some time catering to your man.”

  “Alright, Auntie. I’ll have her bring them over. I’ll be by to pick them up first thing in the morning.”

  “Let them stay until Sunday evening. Spend the entire weekend with your man. I don’t want you to call me ever again crying because your husband says that you’re not taking care of his needs.”

  “Bye, Auntie! Bye!”

  “Bye, baby, love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Tossing her Blackberry over onto the passenger seat, Ricky turned the stereo up blasting the sound of Faith Evans. Feeling what Faith was singing, she began singing along, “Even though my money changed, I tried my best to stay the same. But you know with more money more problems came.” Tears burned the outer corners of Ricky’s eyes. begging to be released, all because Faith’s lyrics were hitting so close to home. It was all good before the money; I swear it was, Ricky thought, mashing harder on the gas, pushing her brand new Benz truck faster down I-485. It was one of the luxuries that her career as a national bestselling author had afforded her. Buying that truck had been the highlight of her month. It was a beautiful mint green 2006 ML500. She’d walked right into the Mercedes dealer and paid cash for it two weeks earlier.