“I’m so sorry, Sarah, but I need it so bad.”
He took her hard, pounding out a steady rhythm, and she gasped, her body not yet ready for all of him. A few more strokes and the pleasure started, her inner walls lubricated and accepting. She moaned, rubbing her clit with one hand while the other pressed against the glass. He grabbed her breast firmly and squeezed, playing with her tits and nipples through her bra, till finally she shuddered and tightened around his cock, screaming out his name.
Once her orgasm passed, he withdrew and lowered her down to the floor. He knelt over her, spreading her limber legs until they stuck straight out, her body open to him. His fingers pulled down the top of her bra until her breasts hung free, then he gently squeezed them again, running his hands down her body, playing with the outside of her pussy softly until he felt sticky wetness. He dipped one finger in, feeling her grind against him, and their eyes met. She panted, ready for more. He held a leg in each hand and entered her slowly, pulling in and out as she arched against him. The club music thumping, the lights from the dance floor hitting the walls of the office, he fucked her slowly, then faster and faster. He watched her breasts moving from the rough motion, the pink sparkle from her bra glittering in the dim light.
She closed her eyes and her head fell back, her back arching, body open to him. He reached forward, running his hands down her body, wrapping his hands around her small waist. He gave one long thrust, burying himself completely inside her, the depth causing her to gasp in response. Her head snapped down and her eyes flashed open, meeting his fierce gaze. They widened in excitement and he resumed his movement. Using her waist as leverage, he drilled his thick cock deep into her.
Her excitement grew and she met his thrusts, grabbing his hands and stiffening her body. She shouted, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” as she came, tightening again around his cock. He kept up the cadence through her orgasm for a minute longer, then pulled out, ripping off the condom. She grabbed his legs and pulled herself upright, reaching for his cock and pumping it with her hand, hard and tight. The first spurt of his cum shot out, a long, thick stream. She watched it hit her breasts. “Come on, baby, give me it. Give me it all.” Two more big spurts came and he grunted, his legs twitching.
“Swallow it,” he whispered, and she quickly complied, covering his head with her eager mouth, continuing to pump his cock with her hand. His last few spurts were sucked down and she stared into his eyes as his orgasm faded. He gently released her head and stepped back, sinking into one of the rolling chairs in the office, his dress shirt still on, his pants around his ankles. She crawled over and put her head in his lap and he laid a hand on her hair, his eyes closed.
Twenty-One
I followed Montana as we traveled past the big stage, down a side hall and then up some stairs. “We call this HQ,” she giggled. “Like headquarters—get it?” I nodded, wondering how she kept her big boobs in the tiny thing she called a bikini top. Her theme seemed to be U.S.A. She had long blue eyelashes, an American flag bikini top and thong bottom and a red cover-up tied around her ass. Her shoes continued the theme—five-or six-inch platform heels, silver-and-blue with red stars at the ankles. We opened a black door and walked into a long, thin room with a wide stretch-window that surveyed the club. Underneath the window were about twenty monitors, all various camera angles. I walked slowly down the bank of monitors, looking at all the camera views. Everything seemed to be monitored, from the valet entrance, to the bathroom lobbies, to the dim tables. More than half the monitors were green, indicating night vision, and high definition. Very high definition. In one screen I could see the outline of a patron’s hard-on, in another the cellulite on a dancer’s ass. Four employees sat in front of the monitors, all watching raptly, and almost constantly speaking into handheld radios.
“Guy in the bathroom. Red shirt. Just snorted something and placed the rest in his front shirt pocket.”
“Kesha at table forty-two just accepted something from a patron. Looks like a roach.”
“New dancer—what’s her name, Misty, Majesty?—anyway, she’s at table three doing shots.”
“Patron at bar-top eleven starting to get feely. Watch him.”
“Fight starting on top deck, level two.”
I could have stayed there all night, but Montana grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the hallway. “They won’t let us stay in there,” she whispered. “Say we’re distracting.”
“You guys are watched constantly,” I whispered back. “Doesn’t it irritate the...dancers?” I avoided the word strippers, not sure if I would offend her. She took a few more steps and I followed, her voice returning to normal volume as we moved away from HQ.
“It irritates the dancers that don’t belong here. Saffire is kind of the ‘good girls’ club. Management is superstrict about three things—drinking, drugs and sex. We can’t give blow jobs, let guys finger us and definitely no sex. Touching the tits is also supposed to be off-limits, but they let us have some flexibility with that if we want it. A lot of good girls spend a few months working at a club and get pressured into drugs ’cause, like, all the dancers do it. Here, their constant monitoring keeps that off the table.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and pushed on a stairwell door. We entered a no-frills cement stairwell and started going up. I trotted to keep up with her. How the hell can she do this in those heels? “I like it, ’cause I don’t do drugs. I’m here to earn money, and that’s it. I’m waiting to save up a buttload and then move back to Great Falls. That’s my hometown.”
“In Montana?” I guessed.
“You got it!” She reached the top of the stairs and opened a heavy door, trotting down the hall and into an all-glass cube. A short Korean guy with spiky purple hair and headphones looked up from a turntable at our approach. “Hey, Big M!” he said, holding his arm out for a side hug.
“Hey, Danny,” Montana said affectionately. “This is Julia—she’s Brad De Luca’s date. I’m giving her the grand tour.”
“Mr. D’s in town?” Danny asked, surprised. Brad knows the DJ? That’s weird.
“Well, duh,” Montana said.
“He throwing an after-party tonight? Nobody said anything to me about staying late,” Danny said, looking concerned. Montana turned to me with an expectant look.
“Umm...I don’t think so,” I said. “We just planned on stopping by, I think. I’m the wrong person to ask.”
“Ah, well, that’s cool then. It’s my girl’s birthday and I got to swing by her place after work. Should I do a shout-out to Mr. D?”
“No!” Montana said quickly. “I think he’s going low-key tonight. With Julia, you know?” She glanced quickly at me and then at Danny.
Danny looked at me. “All right. You got a song request?”
“Umm...how about some Black Eyed Peas?”
He nodded enthusiastically at me. “You got it, babe. You gonna get up on stage?”
“No, Julia’s a good girl,” Montana said.
I was getting a little sick of everyone talking around me. I wasn’t doing blow in the bathroom, but I didn’t exactly consider myself a good girl. And what made Montana think she knew anything about me?
* * *
Brad felt Sarah’s head move on his lap and opened his eyes. “What?” he said, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s the deal with the chick?”
He bristled at the mention of Julia. “Nothing.”
“You’ve never brought an innocent here before.”
“I tried to take her to Zumanity. She wanted to do something different. So here we are. The girl’s never been to Vegas.”
“You’ve also never fucked me like that before.”
“Sure I have.”
“No, not that...hungry. Is it from being around her?”
“I’m horny, Sarah. It’s been like...two
days, that’s all. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me.”
“And don’t use big words I don’t know. I’m just saying you seem different. Maybe it has nothing to do with the girl. I’m just asking.” She stood, slipping on her heels, and walked over to the desk, pulling out the top drawer and rummaging through it till she found a cigar. She clipped the end and lit it, drawing on it strongly. She walked over to Brad and straddled him in the chair, holding the cigar to the side. “You want to share? I can smell it on you, along with her girlie shit perfume.”
He teased one of her nipples. “You sound a little jealous, Sarah.”
She slapped his hand away. “First, stop calling me Sarah. It’s Alexis, dammit. Second, I don’t care about you enough to be jealous. I just don’t know why you’re wasting your time with that lily-white baby when we both know what you need. And it ain’t her.”
Brad watched her, the line of her muscles, the length of her hair. She was exactly like most of the women he fucked. And nothing like Julia. He took the cigar from her, puffed on it, then passed it back. Sarah sucked the cigar like she sucked cock, expertly, nothing like the tentative, fumbling puff that Julia had taken. He imagined Julia, on her knees, her sassy mouth on his hard cock, smiling up at him. Just thinking about it was making him hard again.
Sarah tilted her head back and blew a ring into the dark room. “Does she know where you are right now?”
“No. I assume you told Montana to keep her busy.” He wondered how she’d react when she found out. Her reaction would be telling of what she’d think of his lifestyle choice. He may have blown the entire weekend with the last fifteen minutes. But being around her for two days, tasting her mouth, touching and licking her beautiful cunt—it had been all he could do not to claim her body as his, to fuck her senseless and feel her tighten around his cock. Abstinence was not a strength of his.
“Montana knows to keep her busy. But she’s gonna run out of shit to show her.”
“Okay. Get off me. I can’t get dressed with your sexy self all over my cock.”
She giggled and flipped her leg over, standing up and walking over to her panties, soiled and wet on the floor. “Goddamn you, Brad. My panties are soaked. I’m gonna have to change.”
“Go pick something new out from the store. Tell Janine to charge it to me.” He pulled up his pants and buckled the belt, walking over to the window and looking out, leaning against the glass with one arm. “How’s business?”
She fixed herself in a small mirror hung on the wall. “It’s good. Been really busy lately. Lunches are picking up and we’re starting to stay busy till at least 5:00 a.m. most nights.”
“You working lunches?”
“Only when money’s tight. I got a new car—the payments are a bitch, so I’ve been picking up extra shifts. All the more reason I need you and little Miss Daisy out there to stay away from each other.”
“Why are you so worried about her? You’ve never cared about anyone else I’ve ever brought here.”
“She’s different from any other girl you’ve ever brought here.”
She was right about that. Brad folded his arms and looked at her. “You imply that your income is in jeopardy. Your salary isn’t paid for you to fuck me.”
“I know you don’t view it like that. But the only reason Janine promoted me to shift leader is because she wants to keep me here. And I’m not that good of an employee—she wants to keep me here because she knows you like me.” She glanced over at him. “Like to...fuck me. And that job security might change if there is a missus in the picture.”
He walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror and nuzzling her neck. “Stop worrying, baby. You know me. I’m a bad egg, and I’ll never change. No woman worth her salt will keep me around.”
She spun and grabbed his neck, pretending to throttle him with frustration. “Good point. What was I thinking?” She laughed, releasing his neck, and looked down, smoothing his shirt.
He brought a hand up, tilting her face to his, her eyes opening and meeting his, the somber look in them sobering her expression. “I’m serious. This...arrangement we have, when we do meet—I want to make sure it’s something you want. Regardless of sex, you will have a job here as long as you want it. Tell me you understand that.”
She nodded, meeting his critical eyes. “I know. Just...be careful with her. And with yourself.”
He said nothing, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the private space.
* * *
Montana led me back into the glitter and glam of the club. We headed to our table, but it was empty. I looked around, unsure, but Montana flopped down without hesitation. “Sit,” she yelled over the music, patting the empty seat across from her.
“Where’s Brad?” I asked loudly, leaning close so that she could hear me.
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe the bathroom, or talking to Janine.”
“Who’s Janine?”
“You know, the manager. Brad likes to talk business with her whenever he comes.”
I felt neglected, and pissed that I was alone in the club with a stripper named after a state, pissed that I even cared that Brad wasn’t sitting there. But I was in Vegas on someone else’s dime, had almost five grand in cash back at the hotel and I’d had an amazing trip so far. What did I have to be pissed at?
“Montana?” I leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “I want to get trashed. Think you can help with that?”
Her eyes lit up and she gripped my arm excitedly. “Baby, I can definitely help with that.” She looked around a minute, then hopped to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” She walked over to a tall, suited woman with professional hair and a discreet earpiece. I saw Montana point to me, and then make a bunch of hand gestures, explaining something to the woman. After a moment, the woman nodded and then pointed to her watch. Montana gave her a hug and then bounded back to me. This girl is femininity on crack.
“Okay, we are good to go. I had to get permission from Janine.”
“For me to drink?”
Montana rolled her eyes dramatically. “Not for you, silly—for me! It’s no fun to drink alone!” She waved down a drink girl and ordered four tequila shots. My stomach flipped at the thought of multiple tequila shots, but I wasn’t about to reinforce her impression of my good girl status. I looked around, but still didn’t see Brad, and he obviously wasn’t with Janine.
“So where’s the VIP room?”
“We don’t have one anymore. When the club first started, there was a separate room upstairs, but the guys all seemed to think that you entered the VIP room and anything went. So now there is just an upper layer of tables they call the VIP section. You can’t see them from here, but they’re above us, on the outside edges of the room. They can see the stage but have a little more privacy.”
Our shots arrived and were set on the table between us, along with limes and salt. Montana squealed and clapped her hands together, sliding her butt forward till she was perched on the edge of her seat. She looked at me deviously, and held out the salt. “Body shot?”
I hesitated, only briefly. “Is there any other way to do it?”
She whooped, gave me a high five, then held out the salt. “I’ll go first. Where do you want it?” I tentatively pointed to my collarbone and she rolled her eyes. “Come here.” She pushed me back till I was lying on the plush chair. She ran her fingers suggestively over the top rim of my strapless mini, gliding her fingers gently underneath, and I sucked in a breath, certain her fingers were going to brush the tops of my nipples. Oh, my God. She bit her bottom lip playfully, then pulled the center of my dress down and licked between my breasts, tickling the skin with her pink tongue. She then sat up and sprinkled salt there, patting it with her fingers. Picking up a piece of lime, she placed it in my mouth, running her fingers over my lips g
ently with a smile. I had never had any type of sexual experience with a woman, but felt that I was getting dangerously close to having one, and I wasn’t wanting to stop. I glanced around and saw several interested faces, men’s eyes glued to our table. Knowing that I was being watched was a major turn-on, and I began to look forward to the show we were about to put on.
Montana came around till she stood at my head. She reached back and unclipped her bra, pulling it off, her breasts bouncing down and hanging loose. She then leaned forward, her huge tits hanging in my face. I tilted my face up, her breasts lying on my face—the skin incredibly soft. Why doesn’t my skin feel like that? I felt her tongue lick the salt in the dip between my breasts. She straightened abruptly, flipping her hair back, grabbing the shot and downing it quickly. She then bent back over, putting her mouth on mine and pulling on the lime gently till she had it in her mouth. She sucked it hard, dropped it into the empty shot glass, and bent over again. Catching me off guard, she kissed me, tasting of lime, salt and my sophomore spring break in Cancún. I kissed her back, our tongues meeting softly, then with more confidence. It was the first time I had kissed a girl, and to quote Katy Perry, “I liked it.” She climbed off me and offered her hand, pulling me upright. Her eyes danced with fun, and I caught her excitement.
“My turn,” I said. “Where do you want it?”
* * *
Brad walked alone through the club. Dancers nodded and squeezed his arm as he passed, but he didn’t stop, his eyes scanning the crowd for Montana and Julia. He had taken longer with Alexis then he had intended, and didn’t want Julia alone and pissed at the table. His eyes searched the crowd and finally stopped on the table where they had originally sat. His lips set, he strode forward.
He had to push himself through the crowd that had gathered, a mixture of drunk executives and Abercrombie-attired college boys. Julia was kneeling on the round table that had previously held their champagne flutes and ice bucket. Her strapless dress had been pulled down; her breasts were exposed and alert. Montana had an ice cube in her mouth and was running her mouth over Julia’s breasts, making her nipples stiff and pink. As he watched, Julia leaned forward and placed her hands on Montana’s breasts, pushing them together and kissing her deeply. Jesus Christ.