My stomach turned. Great. He had a cold or the flu or something. Good thing I’d gotten a flu shot.
There was no room to sit down and set my heels on either side of his seat so I kneeled and bent forward, sliding my hands around his fat neck. I winked at him. “Thank you, handsome. You’re not so bad yourself.”
I pulled his head between my breasts and squeezed them together. No way was I going to rub his germ-infested snotty face between my legs like I did some customers. He’d have to settle for this. Boy would I ever love to hold him here and smother him so he’d just die.
While his muffled grunts of, “Ah Jazmine, Jazzy baby, I wanna fuck that tight little asshole of yours” faded into the head-pounding rock music blasting from the overhead speakers, I scrutinized the room again.
Searching.
Searching for something, someone. Other than being certain about craving Frank’s delicious body and handsome face, I wasn’t sure who or what else that urge could be.
Then I noted a tall man passing through the door between the two bouncers. He had dark hair. Yes, I could see that even through the smoky air. Frank? Was that Frank?
My heart skipped a beat and my pussy warmed. I pushed the customer’s head from my chest and lay on my back, did a few enticing quick splits in the air with my legs to stall while the man at the entrance moved closer. When I grabbed the pole and dragged myself up, grinding my pussy into the hard surface as I slid upward, the man moved nearer and my heart sank.
It wasn’t Frank. In fact the patron wasn’t nearly as handsome as he’d looked from a distance. Not even close to Frank’s breathtaking handsomeness.
Well crap.
At least my timeslot on stage was almost over. Maybe five more minutes or so. Hopefully my feet would hold out. Thank goodness I didn’t have any private sessions lined up. My mouth was dry and my stomach growled. I needed a snack and a cool drink. All I wanted was to go hunker down in the break room and inhale a bag of chips and a Pepsi.
Actually that wasn’t all I wanted. I’d trade those chips for Frank any day.
But that wasn’t happening. Ever. Never again.
I let out a long breath, plastered on a seductive smile and slithered toward my next subject. A woman. A mannish one.
Why not? Even though she seemed sort of butchy it would be an interesting break from all these leering men. Yeah, but still I couldn’t understand why any woman who wanted a woman could go for this masculine type. If you were a lesbian didn’t that mean you wanted a woman? I would go for the lipstick lesbian type if I ever got with a woman. So this was just for Ss and Gs to pass my time and get the fuck out of here.
With one last flash in my head of the memory of hot sex with Frank, I approached the drooling dyke and said, “Hey good-looking. Your pussy all wet watching me? You wanna fuck me?”
She smiled, raked her gaze in a zigzag along my body and ran a hand through her spiky mohawked hair. In a deep voice she replied, “Ooh yeah, you goddamn hot whore. Pussy’s gone but my dick is hard as hell, baby. And since I hope to buy an hour with you in a private room, you bet I’m going to fuck you. Every hole you got.”
Panic leaped in my throat and choked me. I couldn’t bring myself to even touch her—or was it a him? Did she mean she’d had a sex change operation? Really I had nothing against women who wanted to transform into the male gender. Or the other way around. But it wasn’t my thing, that I knew.
I longed to get the hell off this stage and go to management and see that this woman’s private party didn’t happen. I could come up with some sort of excuse. Maybe that I had to leave for an emergency. And hopefully get one of the other girls to fill in for me if Dyke got the party with me slotted in the club’s schedule.
One last time I examined the bouncer area where patrons continued to pour in.
Frank. Oh god, Frank. Will you ever return to the club?
The emcee approached with his microphone and stopped at the bottom of the steps. He reached for my hand and assisted me down the stairs. His hold was tight, more likely because he knew these heels were feet-killers and that it wouldn’t do for a stripper to tumble off the stage and sue. Or totally negate all the sexiness and money she’d just racked up.
He pressed a chiffon red robe and a matching G-string into my hand. “Here ya go, Jazmine.”
“Damn, ain’t she such a bangable piece of ass?” The crowd roared and whistled. “Give our hottest, most talented dancer a huge round of applause for all that hedonistic pleasure she provided you horny bastards and bitches.”
A rumble of laughter flowed through the pack of pervs and as usual the deafening sounds of clapping and more whistling echoed off the walls and drowned out the overhead music.
I slid into the short, skimpy robe and sighed at its soft feel on my skin and the sense of protection it offered from prying eyes. The emcee held my shoulders, blocked the view of ogling customers and steadied me so I could slip on the skimpy thong.
“Let’s go, doll.” He leaned close, perched his mouth near my ear and raised his voice over the drone of losers. “So far no private bookings in the back so go take a load off your feet, get a bite to eat and do a line or two to get you revved for the next round.”
A line or two. Hooray. I hated doing coke but it was a requirement of the job just before appearing on stage. They wanted us horny, ripe, enticing, at our sexiest. To bring in top dollar to the club. I did my best to fake it. I’d gotten down the routine—pretend-snort then wipe it off in my lap with the heel of the same hand. I’d seen it in a movie once and had perfected it, thank goodness.
“Gotcha. Can’t wait.” My tone came out disinterested but the emcee didn’t seem to notice or care. He got paid his hefty salary whether I dug my job or not.
He gave my hand a squeeze, released it and returned to his raised corner with its thousands of dollars of DJ audio equipment.
Voices swirled around me. Customers leered and groped at me. I slapped their hands away, smiled at the ones who didn’t dare touch me. After fending off the rabid wolves I pivoted on my killer heels toward the entrance, just to swing by before I headed to my quiet haven.
Talk about losers. I was the worst of them all. I still watched for Frank, for anyone or anything to get me out of this nightmare life. To at least give me a few minutes reprieve from it and show me a purpose in this dull existence of mine. I dodged the crowd and searched for the door, hoping and praying for him to appear.
For heaven’s sake, people, get out of my way.
I moved a few steps closer. The swarm parted for me as if I were some queen or movie star or something. Finally I got a clear view. But of course nothing. No one who piqued my interest or thawed my icy blood arrived on the perverted club’s doorstep.
Just as I started to turn away, a tall man with dark hair stepped through the double doors. My blood melted just a smidgen. Hope bloomed in my heart.
“Frank?” I whispered.
I continued to walk—sashay really, in case it was him—toward the door. The crowd parted farther. Tunnel vision seized me and I moved as if in a dream. In spite of my sore feet, I would get there, I would. If Frank had come to see me, not even raw, bleeding feet could stop me.
If the room had been quiet, surely the skidding of my stilettoes on tile would’ve sent a screech to the ceiling and back.
My eyes widened. I blinked and rubbed at them. Should I trust what I saw?
Then he smiled at me and the screech wasn’t my shoes but my voice. Joy leaped from my chest and sent me flying across the space between us. I launched myself into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Frank. Oh Frankie.” I cupped his square jaw and rained kisses over his cheeks, chin, nose, that sexy mouth that used to do amazing things to my pussy and breasts. Even to my heart. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He glanced around. The grin faded but his big hands massaged my ass and sent fire racing through my cunt. “I thought you left,
married that asshole lawyer. Does he know you’re moonlighting again?”
My mouth devoured his neck. The pussy-wetting scent of his familiar manly cologne brought memories of our marriage and our later hot meetings in the back room rushing to the forefront of my mind. “We’re getting a divorce.”
He drew back. His jade eyes twinkled. “Really? What happened?”
I slid down his hard body, noting the bulk of his cock on my belly. I waved a dismissive hand then reached for his. The warmth of his palm and fingers laced in mine made me sigh, smile. “Oh you know, controlling, jealous, pretty much just plain mean as hell. The usual. I should have seen it all along. But enough of that. Gosh, it’s so good to see you.”
He closed his eyes and moaned as if he’d just bitten into a decadent bonbon. “Mmm, you too, baby. You too.”
“Come on.” I dragged him past the dance floor area with its ramped-up orgy going on. “I don’t have any bookings. We’ll get caught up and spend some time together in the back. Free of charge. It’s on me.”
He tugged on my hand and stopped me in mid-step. “Uh, Jazmine?”
Alarm sent my pulse into a thready beat. I turned back at the odd tone in his voice. “W-what?”
He reached behind him with his free hand, turned and drew the most stunning brunette forward. She wrapped her arms around his elbow and rubbed her large breasts against his arm until her nipples poked against her top.
My jaw tensed. Crap.
Her onyx eyes gleamed, not with the jealousy of competition between two women but with acceptance, even…was that lust? “Hello, Jazmine. I’m Giovanna, Frank’s new girlfriend.”
She took my hand so the three of us stood in a connected triangle. The feminine smoothness made that thing in my soul melt a hint more. Yet if I’d been a cat my back would’ve arched. My claws would’ve discharged, my fangs exposed and a growl of hostility would have been forced from my throat.
What the fuck? Frank was my territory.
“Jaz…” Frank’s stare penetrated me the way one of those swords through a heart tattoo did. A broken heart.
I gulped. My stare bounced from this Giovanna’s breasts and gorgeous face to Frank’s breathtaking good looks. “Y-yes?”
“Gio and I, we’d like to…”
I yanked my hands from their double grip. “What? What are you hinting at?”
Gio spoke up, her voice husky, breathy. “We’d like to book an hour with you. Just the three of us. Alone.”
My gaze shifted to Frank. “W-what’s she talking about?”
“Exactly what she said. She has a fantasy to have a threesome. But not with two men. With a man and a woman.” He gave me a slow nod and winked at me.
I rubbed at my suddenly aching breastbone with the heel of my hand, searching for my boss but he was nowhere to be seen. Though the emcee glanced my way, he didn’t spend much time on it, probably assuming these to be new customers. “I-I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Yes. Just say yes.” Gio’s hot gaze swept me up and down, side to side.
Heat singed my skin wherever her eyes explored. Then she homed in on my pussy through the thin fabric of my robe. All that protected me from the blaze was the thin line of my G-string. The wicked side of my heart thawed another notch, and to my surprise its product seemed to be the dampening of my cunt.
What in the world?
Frank whisked me into his arms and kissed me. He held me close to his firm body and skated his lips over mine. “So what do ya say, beautiful? Want to fulfill another one of my fantasies? Giovanna’s too?”
My nipples abraded over Frank’s wide chest. They’d already tingled and hardened against my will at this Giovanna’s brazen regard of me. Now they’d turned to full-blown bullets.
Back-room play with two men had never bothered me but I’d always drawn the line at this kind of threesome in my private life. Granted I’d never really given much thought to it, but now it stared me in the face. Both of them expected an answer right this second.
And a “yes” answer at that.
I wasn’t sure why—maybe because I sensed it might be the only way I could spend time with Frank again—but I did nod my agreement. “O-okay. You know I’ve never been with a woman before in that way, but I’ve missed you so much. If that’s what you want I’ll do it.”
He lifted me up and swung me around. When he set me down, he wrapped his arms around me and Giovanna, kissed me then her. As he led us toward the bar, I assumed to pay for our session, he said, “You won’t regret it, I promise. Neither of you will.”
“Neither of us?”
Frank chuckled and squeezed my hip. “Yeah. Like I said Gio’s never been with a woman before either. But she wants to try it, has a fantasy to fulfill.”
“Ah. I do see now.”
Boy did I ever. He’d come here to share me with another woman of all things, to fulfill her fantasy, not mine.
So yes I did see. I saw as clear as boiling water that Frank hadn’t come here for me. And he apparently didn’t love me anymore.
Chapter Three
How astounding. Though Frank was one of the hottest men I’d ever met, I’d never expected him to have an ex-wife as perfect and exquisite as this Jazmine woman. My cunt quickened at the first sight of her. Long blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, full breasts and a Pamela Anderson-like body to rival mine.
A raving beauty.
I studied her mouth. The lips were full and so kissable, and despite my inexperience with women I could envision them devouring my pussy.
The image of it nearly brought me to my trembling knees in worship. I had an urge to bite my knuckles, to breeze up to her and get my hands on those curves. No jealousy this time like it used to be in my past when a man of mine showed interest in another woman—that had been very rare though. But this female perfection? No. Ever since those out-of-nowhere erotic dreams of me with another woman had started, I viewed women in a whole new light. And I saw this one as a conquest, not as competition, not as a distracting object of my man’s desires.
On the way here, Frank had explained to me that his ex used to work here but that she’d left some time back after her fiancé had stormed in and found her with Frank. This Jazmine had supposedly had an epiphany of some sort, settled down and married the man. Frank had assured me, however, that there would be ample women to choose from even though Jazmine no longer worked here.
But she did.
The last person I’d expected to “choose from” was the ex.
I inspected her again, hungry for the sight of her and stunned at the luck of it, of her being here, of Frank taking me to this naughty place I’d never heard of. How had I not heard of it before?
But there was more. Much more. Frank’s hot ex wasn’t the highest level of heaven available at this Puss ’N Tush’s wild lair.
My scrutiny wandered the smoky perfume-scented room. A cage filled a corner beyond the dance floor. A woman had been strung up naked and her body was pressed against the bars. Hordes of customers felt her up, sucked her nipples, reached in and finger-fucked her. She moaned and screamed in ecstasy. Her body shuddered, her makeup-caked eyes rolled back in her head and she gripped the chains, pressing herself into the bars. It wasn’t a case of being forced. Oh no. She clearly enjoyed it.
Apparently the allure of being in control of all those people—oh my goodness, men and women—despite being trussed up and caged got her off.
Holiness help me but I couldn’t stop gawking.
To my left there were four female strippers, each on their own peninsula stage. Gold poles were positioned in the center just far enough away from the drooling customers to entice them to dig money out of their pockets. The women’s bodies rippled like the ocean. They made love to their poles with smoldering looks and glimpses of moist pussies, promising the jewel to their admirers. They were all different—black, white, large-breasted and small, petite and amazon. But they had one thing in common. They were striking.
It surprised
me when my mouth curved in a smile. As soon as Frank and I had walked through the doors the atmosphere had sucked me in. Wickedness and the freeing sensation of this taboo club stirred my blood. Mellow rock music poured from the overhead speakers, no doubt the style chosen by the emcee in the booth near the stages. It would keep the people lined around the U-shaped bar spending money on ten-dollar cocktails and the promise of pussy after they made their way back to the stages. It was the sort of tunes that lifted the spirits and broke down inhibitions while the sensual beat of it seemed to possess the strippers and make them gyrate. It reeled the customers in with sex appeal, some potent wine and abundant kink.
The infectiousness of it had already grabbed hold of me.
No way I could leave even if I wanted to.
I’d found my second home.
“Gio.” Frank squeezed my hand.
“What?” I blinked and drew my gaze back to him and Jazmine. How could I have looked away from her? I wanted to laugh at myself. Being here could only be described as that of a kid in a toy store. No. Wait. Rather an adult in a sex toy shop. What to pick? What to play with next? And why couldn’t I just have them all?
He drew me to his side, wrapped his arm around my waist and dropped an affectionate kiss on my forehead. “Jazmine’s schedule is open. Are you ready to go ‘party’ with her?”
“Oh yes. Yes.” I perused her body again. In just a few minutes I’d have my hands on her, my lips and breasts rubbing against hers. “I’m so ready.”
Jazmine’s chest rose with a deep inhalation. She eyed me back, touching my body with a considering caress that made my nipples tighten and my cunt clench. I wasn’t sure if that glittering inspection was based on jealousy or desire. Or maybe both.
Now that intrigued me. I’d learn from her yet attempt to soften her so she got in to me and Frank equally.
“Great.” Jazmine placed her hand on Frank’s where he held mine tight. She broke our hold and wiggled her way in between us. I allowed the aggressive intrusion without complaint and gave myself a mental whistle at my first touch of a woman in a sexy way as opposed to friendly. Her fingers twined through mine. They were cold but smooth and feminine.
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