Better Late Than Never

by Ghiselle St. James

  Ladies and gentlemen, the definition of sex on legs. Long legs for that matter…

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” she purrs in a sultry voice, her perfect teeth on display as she smiles. “My name is Lita and I’ll be your hostess for the evening.”

  “Fuck me,” Eli, our tall, mocha-skinned, model-looking friend and one of Grayson’s more talented contractors, chokes out.

  “We’ll see how the night goes, sugar.” She winks at him and spins on her heels, leading us to our booth upstairs.

  We climb the stairs – Grayson totters – and she takes us to a plush, L-shaped black couch with a long glass table in front of it. There is a minibar to the corner of the room as well as a small, private stage.

  Lita points to it. “That is in the event any of you would like a private dance.” She falls back and sidles up to Eli and says, “And just so you know: I do private dances, too.” She saunters away after she says it and wiggles her pert ass over to the minibar where she says something to the bartender there.

  Eli brings his fist to his mouth and groans, “She’s so fucking hot, man.” We all nod in agreement.

  Noticing the girls aren’t here yet, I pull out my cell phone checking for any missed calls. There aren’t any. I try calling Savi, but it just rings out. I assume they’re on their way since we had spoken to them ten minutes prior.

  Lita brings over starter beers and bottles of water, then takes our actual drink orders. She trots off when we rattle off what we want, and I see Eli’s eyes follow her. Gio – Becky and Savi’s friend, Lisa’s, boyfriend – smirks and shakes his head, going back to scrolling on his phone.

  The music in the room changes with a heavy bass drop and every female seems to start dancing as the “Bandz” demand. A bevy of women stroll up the steps, scantily clad in scraps of material that barely cover their unmentionables – unmentionables that are screaming at us to do more than mention them. They surround us and start dancing (more like gyrating) and I check my phone again, if only to distract myself from what’s going on.

  Grayson is in a drunken haze. Gio looks uncomfortable. Becky’s cousin, Rob, is trying to put on a brave face since it’s his first time at a strip club – like, whose first time at a strip club is when he’s twenty-eight? Eli, the mocha-skinned heartthrob that he is, looks to be in heaven: grabbing the girls, motor-boating tits, already tipping.

  Sin city is made for him.

  My phone vibrates in my hand and I flip it over to see Becky’s name flash across the screen. What now? I sigh, because whenever Becky calls, it’s always to bail them out of trouble. Or, more specifically, to bail my best friend out of trouble.

  I escape the mosh pit of bodies and find a hallway that leads to a bank of bathrooms and answer. “Becky…” I drag her name out letting her know I know something’s wrong.

  “Wait, hear me out, Kyle,” she starts to reason, and I grip the bridge of my nose waiting for the shitstorm. “Savi’s been arrested.”

  Not again…

  We get to the police station later than I wanted to. We were seconds away from leaving Eli in the mass of hot strippers when he jumped up and followed us, biting his fist to restrain himself from going back.

  Apparently, Miss Savannah drunkenly told off a couple of cops who mistook her for a prostitute. I mean, anyone could mistake her purple hair for a wig, but if I know my best friend, she was wearing something polka-dotted and frilly, so mistaking her for a prostitute is kind of a stretch. Then again, Vegas folks are into some weird shit.

  Bursting through the automatic doors, we spot the girls all in various shades of fucked up. Their usually done up hair is wet and hanging limply around them, mascara is running down their faces, lipstick smudged. They’re all in matching pink Playboy Bunny skimpy dresses and stripper heels. Becky has a white veil on her head and a sash across her chest that reads, “I’m the bride, bitch!”

  If this is how Savi looks, no wonder the cop might have thought she was a prostitute. What were they thinking?

  “Becky,” Grayson breathes with relief, ambling over to her and pulling her to him. He kisses her deeply and gropes her ass and I turn away from their display of affection, needing to know where Savannah is.

  Gio passes me to get to his girlfriend while Rob and Eli hang back with the other girls. At the information desk, I talk with Officer Greenland, a plump, dark-skinned woman who looks much too beautiful to be in this place, about their recent arrest.

  “Savannah Carpenter?” she inquires, confused. She flips through a book in front of her, searching for the name. “I don’t see her name here, Mr. Moxam. Does she go by any other name?”

  “She’s not a prostitute!” we – my friends and I – bellow at the same time. Turning, I find them crowded behind me like my own wall of Jericho.

  “I’m sorry, not what I meant.” She is contrite and offers us a small smile.

  “Donna, I’ll handle it,” a graying officer says to my left.

  “Hey, that’s the guy who called her a prostitute!” Becky accuses, and I turn a glare on him.

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I apologize.” To me he asks, “Sir, can I speak to you back here?” He jerks his thumb to a door, and I nod.

  “Hey, remember you’ve got representation here, dude,” Gio echoes from behind me, reminding me that he’s a lawyer. Oh yeah…

  Nodding to my friend, I turn and follow the officer through the door and down a hallway, passing other officers as we walk. He looks back at me and says, “I’m Officer Pfeffer. It was a misunderstanding, but I assure you, your friend is okay.”

  “Then why have you arrested her?” I spit.

  “Arrested?” he asks, incredulous. “Detained, yes. Arrested, no.”

  He stops just before we enter through a set of double doors. “Look, I admit, she did look like a prostitute. Hell, all of them did. But I also noticed that they were three sheets to the wind and were tourists. They were walking targets. I only detained your friend because she became belligerent. I wouldn’t have released her to her equally drunk friends, so I’d planned on keeping her here until the morning when she’d have sobered up.”

  I sigh. A belligerent drunk…sounds like my best friend alright.

  “Officer Pfeffer, I am so sorry,” I apologize to the man.

  “She’s a handful drunk or sober, isn’t she?” he wonders aloud. I can only give him a grim nod. A handful is an understatement.

  We push through the doors and continue walking until we’re in a larger room. It’s an open floor with holding cells, a counter where I assume they book everyone they arrest, various rooms with their doors closed, hallways and a staircase that leads to different areas. Cops are busy rushing by us and talking with each other; while some go in and out of the closed doors. There is a flurry of activity, with one voice creating havoc.

  “Attica! Attica!” Savi yells at the top of her voice. She is grabbing onto the bars of the cell and yelling through the spaces.

  My eyes bulge when I see her wet hair and her smudged makeup. Her face is a mess, but goddamn she looks beautiful. My eyes trail down her body and my throat goes dry. Like I predicted, she’s also in a skimpy pink dress that hugs her curves like she’s intent on tempting me. She’s barefooted, her pink heels laying carelessly next to her feet. She’s in a state of disarray, but she’s never looked hotter.

  “Do I need to confess to murdering one of my Johns to get out of this cell with this bitch?” one of the women in her cell complains. The others grumble their agreement.

  I wince, feeling their pain.

  “Listen, son,” Officer Pfeffer says, sounding exasperated. “If you end up killing her, I’d understand. Just call me, I’ll be your character witness.”

  I scratch the back of my neck, grimacing.

  “Kill her?” another officer scoffs, coming up to us. “Loverboy here is whipped. She’ll probably kill him, and he’d smile like a lovesick fool on his way to hell.”

  He slaps my shoulder and walks off laug
hing. Is it obvious to everyone how much I feel for this woman? Goddammit.

  Officer Pfeffer is chuckling when he looks over at me with a “you’re so fucked” gaze. I am, but I don’t need anyone highlighting it. He releases her moments later and she hisses at him – yes, hisses – before stumbling over to me and throwing herself into my arms.

  “Hey, Shawshank,” I whisper in her hair.

  “I’ve got street cred now,” she whispers back, her body melting into mine.

  I’m getting hard and I hope I can keep my erection at bay. “You’re even more of a badass now, Sav,” I state, chuckling.

  “Fuck yeah,” she agrees, before releasing me and reuniting with our friends.

  Safely back at the hotel, we separate to our suites, promising to meet in a few hours for breakfast. If we can get up. Gio and Grayson end up following their girls back to their suite and I can’t say I blame them. I shower then jump in bed, trying to get the image of Savi in that short as shit dress out of my head. I’ve never seen her wear something so short, tight or scandalous. Her tits were pushed up and the swells tempted me to run my tongue over them.

  I groan and palm my dick with a squeeze. I need to get a grip, and not on the steel in my boxers.

  I reach for my phone that chimes with a message.

  Crazy Hair: Gio & Grayson & Becky & Lisa r goin’ @ it.

  Me: @ the same time?

  What the fuck is going on over there?

  Crazy Hair: No, dummy.

  Me: So Gio & Grayson are goin’ @ it?

  Crazy Hair: Fucking hell. No! Grayson & Becky r fucking, AS WELL AS Gio & Lisa.

  Me: I gotta tell u, Crazy Hair, it sounds like u’re sayin’ Becky & Grayson are fucking Gio & Lisa…

  Crazy Hair: Open the fucking door, asshole.

  Brows furrowed, I make my way to the front of the suite and open the door. Sure enough, my best friend is there with her phone in hand, dressed in sleep shorts, braless in a wife beater and fuzzy slippers.

  As I stare at her, I conclude that I must have done something terrible in a past life to be subjected to the torture of her soft curves and full breasts. My dick had gone half mast, but now it jolted to life. I wave her in quickly, taking cover behind the door.

  “Where’s your room?” she asks, her words slightly slurring. She’s still drunk.

  “Down the end of the hall then to the left,” I answer.

  She waves at me distractedly before staggering in the direction I told her. Breathing deeply to get my dick under control, I take a minute before getting some covers from Grayson’s room and making myself comfortable on the large couch in the living room. I don’t trust sleeping in the same bed as Savannah, and I don’t want Grayson coming back here with Becky and risk seeing them fucking.

  No, thank you.

  I’m finally drifting off to sleep when the sheet is pulled back. By the time my eyes fly open, Savi is settled on the couch and pushing me back with her ass.

  “What’re you doing, Crazy Hair?” I ask her in a fright.

  “Move over,” she whines, digging her ass into my groin. Fuck.

  I scoot away from her, laying on my back to hide the fact that my dick is, once again, hardening. She lays next to me and, just when I think she’s passed out, she grabs my hand and pulls until I’m spooning her.

  No. No. No. No.

  Okay, this isn’t so bad. I just need to think of anything other than her curvy body and ass. I shudder when an image of Grayson and Becky going at it pops into my head. Gross.

  Savi groans and braces her ass into me. I grip her waist on instinct, biting back a grunt. Soon, she’s grinding against me and, having no choice, my cock goes rigid. Helpless little whimpers escape her lips as she backs her ass into my hard length. I bite my bottom lip until I taste blood to restrain myself from using my dick as a heat seeking missile.

  “Savi,” I croak, control snapping bit by bit.

  “Please, Kyle,” she whimpers. “Touch me.”

  Fuck.

  My hands drift down to her shorts and I toy with the waistband, holding myself back. Both of us have had a little too much to drink. What if this is a mistake? We have only just got back our footing in the past few months. What if this sets us back? I’m terrified of losing her again. That has always been my biggest and possibly my only fear.

  Savi shifts, my hand slipping away. She shoves her fingers down her shorts, her legs falling open as she starts to play with her clit. Her lips part on a sigh when she pulls her wife beater up past her breasts and starts to pluck at and twist her nipples. I watch her, my mouth hanging open as I take in the display in front of me. My cock is rock solid and it jerks in my boxers, telling me that there’s no turning back now.

  I brush her fingers away and cover a nipple with my lips, sucking, licking and biting. She arches into me, moaning, ever so sweetly, my name. Her eyes are heavy with arousal as she gazes at me. Her fingers are working her over and I need to see. Ripping the sheet away from us and shifting to the end of the sofa, I rid her of her shorts and top and do the same with my boxers, throwing them both in a heap on the floor.

  “Touch yourself, Crazy Hair,” I breathe, my voice choked with need.

  Savi spreads her legs and she dips a finger into her glistening entrance before she drags it up to her clit and starts rubbing. She pinches her nipple, groaning and writhing, as she pleasures herself, and it is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. My hand encircles my length and I stroke it lazily as I watch her. Pre-cum weeps from the head and I use it to lube up. Her eyes are glued to my actions, biting her lip as she chases a feeling that is out of her reach.

  I see the frustration in her eyes. She trembles when there is a crescendo but crashes when she misses the climax. She isn’t getting what she wants. She’s wet as fuck, a sheen of sweat making her entire body glisten. I know what will make her splinter apart.

  So, I give her my mouth first.

  Sinking to the floor, I grip her legs so they open in front of me like a feast for the devouring. Inhaling her arousal, I dip my face in, swiping my tongue across her slit. Her ass arches high off the sofa, but I hold her steady. Throwing each of her legs on my shoulders, I spread her lips apart with my fingers and dive between her thighs – licking, sucking, nipping…consuming.

  “Kyle,” she whispers breathlessly, fingers gripping my hair.

  Slipping one then another finger inside of her slick heat, I stiffen my tongue and massage her clit while I finger-fuck her sopping wet pussy. She’s gushing, pussy squealing as she comes apart in my mouth.

  “Oh, my God, Kyle!” she moans loudly, her body undulating.

  Slowly, I ease up on my ministrations, wiping my mouth and licking her essence from my fingers. Her heavy-lidded gaze is upon me, face flushed as she glides back down to Earth. Without giving it a second thought, I line my cock up with her entrance and slide inside of her easily.

  Savi whimpers, her pussy sensitive from her earlier climax. I breathe hard because, goddamn, she shouldn’t feel this good. It is then I realize that I’m fucking her raw. I go to pull out, to break the moment and go find some condoms – or, at least, ask Eli for some of his – but Savi pins me with a glare that says if you stop now, I will kill you and I promise no one will find your body.

  And I believe her.

  She reaches for me and our lips clash together as I lean in to meet her. Her kisses taste of heaven and hell all rolled into one. Our hands meander each other – groping, scratching – and our kisses are frenzied. Savi comes closer and nips my earlobe before whispering, “Fuck me,” and it’s all I need to hear.

  I grab hold of her neck and keep her steady as I fuck her mouth with my tongue and pump in and out of her wet heat. She looks drunk – and so fucking beautiful – as I consume her; her eyes glazed. Releasing her, I adjust us, pulling her ass to the edge of the sofa to give me greater access to her core.

  “Play with your tits,” I command, and she quickly reaches up and starts toying with her
nipples.

  I start fucking her with deep, hard strokes, hitting inside of her with steely determination. She’s moaning, telling me to fuck her, spurring me on. Grabbing her thighs, I pull her into my powerful thrusts, and she responds with tiny yelps. We both look down, mesmerized at our connection; mesmerized at the sight of my cock sliding in and out of her pussy.

  For all her “innocence”, Savi sure does love getting manhandled; and I’m happy to be the one to oblige her.

  I hoist her legs onto my shoulder and grip her waist as I storm the walls of her pussy like a soldier at war. She grips the edge of the sofa with white-knuckled force, taking everything I’m giving like a champ. Her pussy is making these wet, gushing sounds. Coupled with the sounds dripping from her mouth, it’s all music to my ears.

  She clenches around me and I know she’s so fucking close. I don’t relent. I keep fucking her, demanding her – with strokes alone – to give me what I want.

  “I’m coming, Kyle,” she cries out.

  “I know.” And I’m gloating about it.

  “Oh, G–” Mid-sentence, Savi detonates, her words dying on a scream.

  Her pussy milks my cock and it swells, ready to burst. I feel the tingle creep up my balls and my spine. I’m fucking buzzing with endorphins. I wish I could spill inside her, but I know she’d kill me. So, I do the next best thing.

  I pull out of her and drag her closer. I stroke my cock until I’m spilling on her pussy, her stomach, her tits, her neck…and then her face. I mark her. I fucking brand her. I gauge her reaction, sure she’s about to rip me a new asshole, but she does the unthinkable. She reaches up tentatively and swipes cum from her face and licks it off. The sight is enough to give my softening cock another jolt of life.

  “I’m sorry.” Am I though?

  “I liked it,” she replies lazily, eyes drooping, and I have the urge to puff my chest out.