by Gina Gordon
Two minutes later, after gyrating and sliding across the floor of the stage, the brunette grabbed her clothes and ducked behind the curtain. Without music, Milton was inundated with generic sights and sounds around him. The murmur of voices, wait staff shimmying in between the tables delivering drinks, and he could hear the clink of glasses and the running dishwasher from the bar behind him. But the silence didn’t last long in a place like this. The lights dimmed, and the music pounded again through the speaker.
“We have a very special guest for you tonight,” the baritone voice boomed over the microphone. “Please welcome for your viewing pleasure, a first-timer, her Solid Gold debut, the blond little bombshell…Amie.”
What an introduction. Did this place introduce all of their– What? Amie?
Milton placed his glass on the table as a woman emerged from behind the curtain and stopped at the back of the dark stage. His cock immediately jumped to attention. Even in the darkness he knew it was her, even without the introduction, he would have know it was her. Her presence was like no other woman he had ever encountered.
A bright spotlight kicked on and followed her as she took one sultry step after another, her legs bouncing to the beat of the rock song blaring from the speaker. Her blond hair hung down under a black fedora that sat atop her head, thigh-high shiny boots covered her legs, and when she turned around, he saw the belt of a black trench coat holding together the fabric. He should have known she would hide something sexy underneath that coat.
She moved closer to the edge. Closer to the shiny gold pole that sat in the middle of the stage. She’s going to use that pole. She’s going to gyrate and spin around that pole.
Excitement danced in his stomach at the thought of watching her show, but then realization settled in. Milton looked from left to right, the men on either side of him were just as mesmerized. He didn’t like it. Jealously surged inside him, a feeling he wasn’t used to. Usually he was the one reveling in other men’s jealously but not this time. Not with Amie.
Her right hand grasped the pole, and she walked around it, once, twice, each time locking eyes with him. Then she stopped, leaning her back against the shiny metal. She lowered her body, spreading her legs as she approached the floor. Milton had an up-close and personal view of her barely covered pussy. So did the man sitting to his right.
Her body swayed to the music, a song he didn’t recognize but one he would now never forget. Amie positioned herself at the front of the stage and stepped out, settling her feet shoulder width apart. Her hands slipped to the belt of her jacket, and she slowly undid the knot. Teasing. Taunting. She didn’t play nice. Ripping the belt from the jacket, she sent it sailing in the air, and it landed on one of the gawkers to his left. He held it up to his nose and inhaled long and steady. Milton had to brace his hands on the edge of the table to stop from leaping up and tackling that perv to the ground.
Her hat was next, she threw it in the other direction. It was caught by a kid, a twenty-something kid who sat with his friends hooting and hollering at his woman. She’s not your woman, he scolded. He returned his stare to Amie just as the jacket dropped to the floor and pooled around her feet. She wore lingerie, the very same outfit he had picked from the digital photo frame that sat on his desk in his hotel room.
The flat leather hugged her torso, pushing up her breasts, accenting her soft, supple skin. The leather short-shorts hugged her body with equal appeal. The space between the shorts and her boots was just enough to glimpse the creamy flesh of her thighs. Immediately, his mind flashed him back to the thought of those strong legs holding him in place, flanking his head as she lowered her sweet core to his mouth.
She continued to dance and sway, using the pole every once in a while. She was good, not just amateur good, but good. Worry niddled inside of him. Was she a professional? Milton didn’t know how he would feel about that. He could kick himself for being such a jerk. Thinking that it was hot to see other men drool all over her. As he looked around, that’s what they were doing. Drooling.
When Amie turned around she bent, and the shorts made their way down her backside, sliding along her legs. He could see her pussy from his seat, hidden away behind a black leather thong. He wondered if she was wet. If stripping in front of him, in front of a room full of men, turned her on.
Amie lowered to the floor and crawled toward him. He felt himself lean in to the stage without even processing the action. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she crawled closer, stopping just before the edge of the stage. Amie twisted and twirled her head, her shiny locks swirling in all directions, as her bottom poised high in the air, perfect for ramming his cock into.
A few men approached the stage, money in their hands, but she didn’t acknowledge them. Amie turned around and gyrated her pussy in his direction. A little bit closer and he would have been able to smell her, test his theory, find out if she was just as turned on as he was.
She was playing out his fantasy, knowing that he enjoyed other men watching and gawking over his women. But something was different with Amie. Milton was torn between his raging erection and his raging jealousy.
She returned to the pole for a final round-about and finally the music stopped. The lights dimmed and he watched as she picked up her clothing, just like the other woman, and ducked behind the curtain.
Milton slammed one of the shots sitting on the table. Would she come out here with that outfit on? Did she have clothes in the back to change into? The applause and hoots that echoed around him solidified his decision. There was no way Amie was coming back out here. There was admiring a beautiful woman, and then there were these guys, rotating their erections stiff in their pants, hoping that she would throw them a bone. No fucking way!
He slammed the second shot on the table and jumped out of his seat. The chair tumbled to the ground, but Milton didn’t care. He headed to the side of the room, toward the blinking exit sign, past the DJ.
Ginger jumped in front of him, and he went to side-step around her but she held him in his place. “I’ll take you to her, honey. You won’t get back there without me.”
Milton nodded. His fists clenched at his sides as they wandered past another bouncer into a dark hallway. Light filtered into the space from several doors, and then he saw her, waiting against the wall, still wearing her leather, one foot rested against it in a sexy street-walker pose.
Ginger backed away, and Milton charged toward Amie like a bull. Luckily there was no china in his way. At this moment he had no shame, his erection throbbing against his jeans, his mind full of lust and jealousy.
She went to speak but he didn’t give her the opportunity. Smashing his mouth down on hers, he scooped her into his arms. She let him take control, let him ravage her like she knew he needed to release some of his jealousy.
“A little too brazen for you?” she whispered.
“A little too smokin’ hot for me. We need to get out of here, right now.”
“I thought I was the one calling the shots? You’re not allowed to make any decisions, remember?” She grabbed his hand and led him five feet to a door marked private. “Come with me.”
She herded him inside the dark room. The scent of industrial cleaner and pine flooded his nostrils. The bit of light from the hallway illuminated the tiny storage closet–brooms and mops and boxes filled the space. When she closed the door behind her the room plunged into complete darkness.
Her hand gripped his shoulder and pushed. He followed her direction and dropped to his knees. She directed him between her legs with her hand braced against the back of his neck. She had one foot hooked onto a shelf beside them, opening herself up for him. This close he could smell her, aroused, and sweet, just like he remembered.
“This. The thought of your head between my legs is what kept me on that stage.” She moaned as he licked up her core, the taste and smell of leather surrounding him.
Milton licked up her thigh from the edge of her boot and stopped just before her pussy. He did the same with
the other leg. Goose pimples formed on her skin under his tongue.
Her breath left in heavy pants as she tried to speak. “Did you like all those men watching me?”
“I’m a jackass.” He traced her folds with the tip of his finger, the leather slippery from his tongue. “I don’t ever want to see another man gawking at you like that again.”
“It didn’t turn you on?”
Milton slithered up her body and grabbed her wrist, directing her hand to the bulge in his pants. “What do you think?”
Amie grabbed at him. They both rubbed each other in the darkness.
“It was you that turned me on. I was torn between wanting to run up on that stage and spread your legs or cover you with a blanket.”
“There’s no one watching now. It’s time for you to put your mouth to work and when you’re done, you can do whatever you want with me.”
“Anything?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she pushed him back down to his knees and slammed his face into her pussy.
His hands made their way around her body and found the zipper of her shorts. She removed her foot from the shelf, trapping his face between her legs. There was nothing slow about his actions. The zipper opened, the shorts fell around her ankles. He fumbled with the leather, trying to slip one of her feet through the opening.
There was nothing between her and the thin layer of leather, her pussy glistened from her arousal.
“It’s not going to take long. I’m already–”
Milton cut off her words with a quick lick along her folds. Another quick lick, then another before he dove right in. She cried out, pushing his face farther into her center. He lifted one leg over his shoulder for better access and continued to devour her. His cock slammed against his jeans, hard pulsing jets of pleasure rocking inside his pants.
“Campbell,” she called out. Amie curled her fingers through his hair and gripped his shoulder tight. She thrust her pussy toward him, with each thrust she howled, then she shuddered.
“My…oh my.” Amie shook her head to and fro as she released her tight grip on his body. Milton pulled away and brought her legs together, resting his forehead against her mound. “Stripping is great foreplay.” She chuckled.
“I think you’re right.” His warm breath encased his chin as he whispered against her. He fluttered his fingers up and down her bare leg, noticing her shiver with his light touch. When his fingers reached the leather at her feet he thread her foot through the leg hole and pulled them up, fastening them in place.
“What are you doing?”
“You said I could have anything I want.” He kissed his way up her body, the leather soft against his lips.
“No, I said you could do anything you want.” She moaned when he kissed along her neck.
“Have. Do. Tomato Toma-to.” He captured her lips then pulled back and bit her bottom lip between his teeth. Amie whimpered and slumped against the door.
“You mean you don’t want to take me here? You don’t want to fuck me against this door? Hear the sounds of my body pounding against it as you pound into my pussy?”
A growl rumbled low in Milton’s chest. “I want to be able to see you when I fuck you. I want to be able to see your lips wrapped around my cock and your hands pump my shaft.” He grabbed her hand and placed it against his straining erection.
“It is hard.” She massaged his balls. “And I do want it in my mouth.” He felt her push closer and whisper in his ear as if her warm breath would be a distraction from her pulling at the button of his jeans. “Are you sure we just can’t–”
Amie whined as he reached behind her and turned the door handle, shedding light into the dirty closet.
“Let’s go, Woods. We have all night for you to get in my pants.”
Chapter 11
The crack of the bat echoed throughout the field. The ball sailed over Milton’s head on the pitcher’s mound, and definitely farther than Carrie could handle at shortstop. Rob released his grip on the bat and let it fall to the ground. He took off to first base in one fluid movement.
Aleks bolted from his position at right field and vaulted into the air, stretching out his body, holding out his arm, positioning his glove until the ball rested gently inside the leather.
“Son of a bitch!” Rob cursed from second base.
Aleks picked himself up and dusted off the dirt with a grin the length of the diamond.
Milton didn’t think the skills from his youth would easily surface, but he found himself transported back to a time when life was fun and carefree. When all that mattered was baseball, good grades and girls. It seemed as if pitching a no-hitter was like riding a bike. Except, his bike was old, rusty and full of defects.
He felt twenty years old again. And he owed it all to Amie.
“Uncle Milty, pitch to me! Pitch to me!” the little bug screamed from home plate.
How Amie had managed to get all of his favorite people on the diamond he would never figure out. Besides his University buddies and their significant others, his sister Marilyn and the bug and also Sam his foreman. But he had a sinking feeling it wasn’t Amie who had extended the invitation to Sam. Uck! Even his old friends Marc and Billy Bob were there.
Alexandria jumped up and down on home plate with a plastic bat in her hand. Milton grabbed the plastic ball out of his pocket and took his stance.
“Remember what I told you, bug,” he yelled from the pitcher’s mound. “Keep your eye on the ball.”
His niece nodded as he wound up and lobbed the blue plastic toward her. She swung hard, clipping the ball and sending it spinning toward him.
“Run, Alexandria! Run!” Marilyn shouted.
She took off with the bat still in her hand. She was a quick little girl, because she actually made it to first base before Milton could run to grab the ball and throw it over to Sam at first base.
Alexandria reveled in the sounds of clapping and hollering for her as she jumped up and down on the base, her tiny face beaming with accomplishment.
Arms snaked around Milton’s body and clasped together against his stomach. “Having fun?” Amie ducked under his arm and twisted around his body, bringing them face to face.
Milton rested his chin on her head. “I don’t know how you managed to pull this off–” He pulled back to look her in the eye. “–without my knowledge…but it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Get a room, you two,” Aleks screamed from first base where everyone was still huddled around congratulating the bug.
They both laughed. “Guess we should join the crowd,” Milton said.
“Do you think you could start the grill? We should eat.” Amie took his hand in hers and together they walked to the caged dugout to get started with food.
The men had gathered around the fire and the woman around the picnic table. Most of the men. Marc and Billy Bob had taken a liking to Marilyn and were giving Sam a run for his money.
The sprawling park was home to dozens of other families enjoying the warm summer sunshine. Children played tag and Frisbee. Parents chatted and held their youngest ones in the splash pad.
“I can’t believe you have to go already,” Rob whined.
“Oh, don’t get emotional.” Aleks sneered at Rob. “Ever since Martina got knocked up you’ve been a blubbering idiot.”
“Not true,” Rob defended himself.
Milton was going to miss this. They fought like two ten year olds. They did it even when they were twenty. They did it now even in their thirties.
“How is the ceremony coming along? You’re not ready, are you?” Rob questioned Aleks.
Aleks looked over at Milton, and a flash of doubt crossed his face, but it quickly disappeared. Hopefully quickly enough that Rob didn’t notice.
“I’m so ready.” Aleks stuck out his chest. “This is going to be the best tying ceremony ever.”
“Hand fasting,” Rob corrected with an unimpressed look on his face.
“Right. Hand fasting.” Aleks defl
ated, but only a little.
“You’re going to come right, Milton?”
“Oh, I–”
“I know this is the first you’re hearing of an invitation. I’m stupid and should have invited you at the baby shower.” A hint of guilt flashed across Rob’s face. “With Aleks performing the ceremony I could use another guy on my side.”
“You want me to stand up there with you?” Milton was shocked. Flabbergasted. He didn’t expect an invitation to the wedding, let alone an invitation which included being involved in the wedding party.
“Say yes,” Rob said. “I only have one groomsman for two bridesmaids.”
“And don’t say it’s not your place either,” Aleks interrupted. “We’ve wasted too much time with you living on the other side of the country. We’re both going to start making more of an effort. We all need to make an effort.”
“Now who’s blubbering?” Rob chuckled.
“I assume you want me to be–”
“Amie’s partner?” Rob nodded.
Would it be a good idea to take another step further into a relationship he had been trying not to develop? Would it be a good idea to come back at all?
“She seems to have gotten over hating you.” Aleks laughed. “I told you you’d be getting laid. And our Amie is quite the sex kitten.”
“You’ve slept with her?” Milton spat. If he had known he wouldn’t have gotten involved. Or, he would have tried harder not to get involved.
“No!” Aleks raised his hands in defense. Milton looked over at Rob who shook his head.
“Being the other halves to the threesome over there–” Rob gestured to the ladies at the picnic table. “–makes us privy to information, sometimes way too much information, about our girl.”
“You know about us?”
“Not quite. We figured from the huggy-feely stuff that you were, but Amie’s been tight lipped about it. She hasn’t given any details to the girls. Not one.”