The man gasped when he heard it and tried to rise. Diane gripped the back of the chair, holding him in place. She never stopped moving up and down on his shaft. At first the woman didn’t see them then her eyes focused on the bawdy scene in front of her and she cried out in surprise.
“We’ll be with you in a moment,” Diane gasped and came in a rush, made all the more powerful because a stranger was watching her.
The woman turned and fled.
The shopkeeper with his back to the stranger was still able to maintain his erection and he came a few seconds later. Diane could feel his cock throb, triggering another orgasm. She suddenly felt quite satiated. She stood and felt his cock plop free.
“Thank you so much,” she breathed. “For the number.”
“Uh, you’re welcome.” The man stood, stripped off the damp condom, pulled his pants into position and looked nervously around the shop. “Who was that?”
“Some woman. She didn’t see your face.”
“Yeah, but I own this place. It’s not like she wouldn’t recognize me!” He shook his head slowly. “You’re crazy.” The way he said it sounded more like a compliment.
“Yes, I suppose I am.” Diane winked at him, shook her skirt back into place. On the way out the door, the man called to her. She turned.
“Come back anytime,” he said.
She nodded and flashed him a big smile. As she stepped outside, carrying the number tightly in one hand, she realized her pussy felt satiated for the first time in days.
Chapter Eight
The noose tightens
When the girls gathered that evening at Suzanne’s, they were met with a big surprise. Well, it was a surprise to everyone except Diane. The three of them had arrived in two taxis, one right after the other. They met on the sidewalk and exchanged meaningful looks. No words were exchanged. Carol rang upstairs to be buzzed in. At first nothing happened. Frowning at the others, she tried again. Suzanne’s breathless voice came through the tinny speaker.
“Oh is that you, guys?”
“Yes,” they all shouted.
“Okay, give me a sec then I’ll buzz you in.”
They stood on the stoop and waited.
“You don’t suppose…” Wendy said.
“Nah, she wouldn’t do that, would she? I mean, she knew we were coming at seven,” Carol responded.
Only Diane kept her mouth shut.
The door buzzed and they marched through. They took the elevator up to five and as they were coming out, they spotted a man, still tucking in his shirt, his pants unbuttoned, being pushed out the door of Suzanne’s apartment. He smiled weakly at the girls and caught the elevator.
Suzanne stuck her head and a bare shoulder out the door. “One second!” She disappeared inside.
“Oh this is getting bad,” Wendy said.
“How about you?” Carol asked. “How are you holding up?”
“Just okay. I’ve called six escort services. No one will talk to me much on the phone so it seems to work out as a good delaying tactic. But I’m going to have to start visiting places soon, I can tell. How about you?”
“I must be putting out pheromones or something. I swear I’m being ogled by every alpha male in the city! It scares me and makes me horny at the same time.”
Carol and Wendy turned to Diane. “And you?” Wendy asked.
“I’m, uh, okay.” She flashed a thin smile.
Suzanne came back to the door, wearing a loose dress she clearly just threw on. “Come in, come in! Sorry about that.”
“Your urges get the better of you?”
“I don’t know what gets into me! I knew you guys were coming, but I just had to make a quick stop at the local bar and find a guy. I’m horrible!”
“Don’t say that. We’re all struggling with it,” Carol said. “Well, except for Diane here. She looks like the cat that swallowed the canary.”
Suzanne, now that she was satiated herself, could see that same look in Diane’s eyes. “Well, well, what did you do today?”
“Oh nothing much.” She smiled.
“Come on, we’re all in the same boat here,” Wendy said. “I’ve been telling you all about my whorish urges. Don’t hold out on us.”
Diane reached into her purse and pulled out the paper. “I got the ceramic guy’s name and phone number.”
For a moment no one spoke then they all jumped in at once.
“How did you do that?”
“Don’t tell me you fucked that shopkeeper!”
“Not in public, I hope!”
Diane gave them a brief rundown of her adventure, including being interrupted by the woman in the wide-brimmed hat. “You should’ve seen the expression on her face!”
They laughed then caught themselves.
“You should be careful!” Carol said. “You could’ve been arrested.”
“Or beaten up!” put in Wendy.
“No, he was very nice.” She felt a tiny shiver run through her as she remembered the feeling, riding his cock as that woman came in. “But it was risky nevertheless. So let’s call this O’Grady guy and ask him how to break the spell that thing has on us.”
With shaking fingers, Diane dialed the number and listened. “One ring. Two. Three— Oh hello? Is this Peter O’Grady? Oh is he there?”
Suzanne mimed that she should put it on speaker. Diane nodded and pressed the button then replaced the receiver.
After a few seconds a gruff voice with a distinct Irish accent barked, “Aye, this is O’Grady. Who is this?”
“I’m Diane Lesher and I bought that cute little leprechaun ceramic you had at the antique shop on 69th Street?”
“Oh you’re the one. Ray said you changed your mind and demanded your money back.”
“Yes, well, I was hasty. I want to buy it back.”
“Oh really? And why would that be now?”
Diane didn’t know if she should explain its seeming powers or if O’Grady already knew about them.
“Uh, well, I just decided I really liked it after all. But the shopkeeper said you came and retrieved it.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not going to have me country’s work insulted.”
“So it did come from Ireland?”
“Aye. It’s very special.”
“Well, yes, I’ve become quite, uh, fond of it. Would you be willing to sell it back to me?”
“Maybe. Why don’t you come by and we’ll talk about it?” His voice sounded like a leer.
“All right. But I want to bring some friends with me.”
“Oh? In case I try some funny business?”
“No, no, they’re just some girlfriends for moral support.”
“Girlfriends, hmm? Okay. Why don’t you come by tomorrow morning, say eleven o’clock?” He gave the address.
“Wait! Can’t we come by tonight?” Carol jumped in.
“Who was that?”
“Oh that was just one of my friends. She, uh, really liked the piece too and thought I was crazy to return it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s too late tonight. Tomorrow, eleven a.m.” He hung up.
Diane closed the phone. “Another night of dreams,” she said.
“God, can we survive it?” Wendy asked.
“We’ll have to.”
* * * * *
Only Diane and Suzanne slept well that night. They both had dreams as before, but because they had satisfied the leprechaun’s alleged curse, they weren’t as intense as they might’ve been. In her dream, Diane was fucking Paul Dartling at a basketball game, not caring that people around them were jeering. At one point, they were displayed on the giant scoreboard screen and the audience cheered. Even the game came to a halt as the players watched them. She had an orgasm in her sleep that was so strong it woke her.
Suzanne dreamed of another bar, another stranger. She would make love to him then return to the bar to select a new man. Her body didn’t seem sore—in fact, she had one delicious orgasm after another.
Carol, bot
h attracted and repelled by the inherent dangers of her fantasy, didn’t go out for fear she’d succumb to her carnal desires and wind up under the control of a dominant man. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to have her fantasy and yet control the risk. She tried to masturbate, thinking of strong, hard men, but her orgasm wouldn’t come. When she did finally drift off into a restless sleep, she dreamt of the same strong man who both thrilled and scared her. She’d wake, feeling restless and horny, and the process would start all over again.
Over at Wendy’s house, it was a different story. The young woman couldn’t sleep at all—the itch was too strong. She went into her bathroom to splash cold water on her face and found herself toying with the razor there. Before she knew it, she was in the shower, shaving her legs, underarms and finally all the hair on her buzzing pussy. She bent down to make sure she removed every stray strand as far back as she could reach.
After she dried, she strode naked to her closet and picked out the tightest, shortest skirt she had—a black miniskirt she hadn’t worn in years. Frank had bought it for her on a lark and she had worn it just one time for him outside their home. It had been scandalous. Wendy had no idea why she had kept it.
It was a little tight—she had to wiggle her hips to get it on. Of course, she didn’t bother with underwear or stockings. Once it was on, she turned this way and that, looking at herself. The hem came down to just below the globes of her ass and it excited her to think about men trying to get a peek underneath. He bare breasts were still firm and perky at her age and she cupped them in her hands, pointing them at the mirror like twin six guns. Her fingers pinched her nipples, causing her to squeal in delight. She squeezed them again and watched as they stood erect.
Wendy found a purple tank top and slipped it on. It too was tight. But it sure made her breasts stand out! Her nipples threatened to poke someone in the eye. She walked around the apartment pretending she was a streetwalker. She wondered why she was doing this—hadn’t she wanted to be an expensive call girl? No respectable hotel would allow her across the lobby in his outfit!
Not that she had any intention of leaving her apartment! No, this was just for dress-up, to ease the itch in her pussy that made her wiggle her ass and pinch her nipples. She tried to convince herself she was just about to take off the slutty clothes and go to bed! But the urge wouldn’t let her. Wendy checked her watch—nearly one. Dammit! She was supposed to be at work at eight-thirty. Now how was she going to get up and look alert if this itch kept up all night!
Deep down, she knew what she had to do if she wanted to sleep. That damn leprechaun wanted his pound of flesh. Diane and Suzanne had succumbed to its power—only she and Carol had managed to hold out. But both of their fantasies were so dangerous! How could she ever have thought sex with strangers for money was a good fantasy to have? Not that she had any real control over it!
Even as she thought it, her pussy contracted. It seemed like a very good idea right now. Wendy walked around the small apartment again, like a caged animal. She stopped to look at herself in every mirror, seeing a slut on parade, just begging for it.
“Come, sailor, I fuck you long time,” she said in a singsong Thai whore accent. She reached underneath her short skirt—which was embarrassingly easy considering how short it was—and rubbed her hot pussy. It felt numb somehow, like before. She knew she would not be allowed to bring herself off so easily.
She paced again. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. Mr. Townbridge! The older man lived alone three doors down from her. Every time he passed her in the hall, he smiled at her and often told her how pretty she looked. She knew he was interested in her. He seemed like such a nice gentleman. Of course he was a little too old for her, probably close to fifty! But maybe…
She shook her head. What was she thinking? Good god, woman. You would ruin your reputation pulling a stunt like that. Sure, he probably would jump at the chance to fuck you like a common street whore, but you could never face him again! Especially once this damn curse was lifted. No, forget it.
Wendy went into the bedroom and lay down. She tried to sleep but her thoughts were too jumbled. She got up again and resumed pacing. Her urge drove her actions. She went to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, rummaging around until her fingers found what she was looking for—a condom. She held up the small square package, pleased with herself.
Now you can be a whore and not risk anything, her mind told her, as if it made perfect sense. She already knew Mr. Townbridge was harmless. Wendy found her black shoes with the stiletto heels and strapped them on. She stood, admiring herself in the mirror.
She grabbed her key and tucked it into the tiny pocket in the front of her miniskirt then left before she really thought about what she was doing. She strode down to Mr. Townbridge’s apartment and knocked. Wendy stood there a long time knocking before a sleepy voice said, “What? Is the building on fire?”
“Mr. Townbridge? It’s Wendy, from down the hall. Can I talk to you for a minute?” She heard the locks disengage and the door cracked open. His sleepy face peered out, his brown hair tousled. His eyes widened when he saw her outfit.
“Wen-Wendy? Is that really you?” The door came open wider and he looked up and down the hallway, as if he were afraid someone might see her. “Come in. Come in! Why are you dressed like this?” He was wearing pajamas and had a rash of stubble.
“It’s kind of an initiation. I’m trying to join this select club and I’m supposed to pretend I’m a streetwalker,” she lied glibly.
“Really? Which club?”
“Oh I can’t say. But what I have to do is get at least one customer so to speak.”
“One…customer?” One eyebrow threatened to take off.
“Yes. It would be dangerous for me to go out dressed like this. So I thought of you. I know you kinda like me.”
“Well, sure, I like you. But…but…”
“Oh it’s just for tonight! After this, we can both pretend it never happened, okay?”
“What never happened?”
She held up the condom. “This.”
Now both eyebrows shot up. “You mean…”
“Well, only if you pay me for it.”
“Pay you?” His eyes narrowed and for a minute Wendy thought he might react like Frank did.
“Yes. What do you think this is worth?” she said quickly, lifting up the edge of her dress to show her cleanly shaven pussy. His mouth dropped open.
“Uh, uh, uh…”
“I think fifty bucks would be a real bargain, don’t you, Mr. Townbridge?”
“Please, call me Bob. You want me to pay you fifty bucks…and then you’ll let me…?”
“Fuck me? Well, yes, that’s what hookers do, don’t they?” She smiled sweetly at him.
“And this club wants you to do this as part of an initiation?”
“Yes. Something like that.”
He seemed suspicious, as if this were far too good to be true. “I’ve never heard of a club like this before.”
“Does it really matter, Bob? I’ve seen you look at me when we pass in the hall. This may be your only chance to make love to me. Do you want to pass it up?”
“Nooo,” he breathed. “Let me get my wallet.”
He counted out fifty dollars, two twenties and a ten, then led her into the bedroom. Wendy realized she hadn’t brought a purse and the tiny pocket on the front of her skirt was too small. Something to remember for next time, she told herself. For now, she placed the money on the floor next to his bed and stripped off her skirt and top. She left her shoes on.
She jumped onto the bed and watched while Bob yanked off his pajamas and crawled in next to her. They kissed and hugged for a minute then Wendy pushed him back impatiently. “Come on, let’s get to it.”
He crawled over her, his cock a hard spear. “Tut, tut,” she said, holding up the condom.
Bob looked at it then at her lovely, firm young body laid out beneath him. “I’ll give you another fifty if you let me do it
bare.”
She smiled and tossed the packet across the bed. “Deal.”
He entered her in one smooth thrust and her breath was nearly knocked from her body. She realized that was the leprechaun’s treat for her. Now that she finally did what he demanded, he was providing her reward. I’m being paid one hundred dollars to fuck this man, she thought and her pussy contracted, sending new waves of pleasure throughout her body. She came once then again in quick succession before she felt Bob’s cock erupt inside her. Wendy grabbed him and hung on, feeling another powerful shockwave rock her.
And then it was over. He rolled off her and seemed ready to fall asleep. She got up and dressed quickly. She poked him and held up the money.
“Get another fifty out of my wallet on your way out,” he said. “Oh and thanks so very much, my dear. You made my year.” He drifted off to sleep, a slight smile on his lips.
Wendy found his pants and fished out his wallet. There was close to two hundred in there, she noticed. If she were a crooked whore, she could take it all. But she felt satiated for the first time in days and didn’t want to punish her first paying customer. She took another fifty and tossed the wallet back on top of his pants.
She felt his seed seeping out of her and she reached down, scooped up some on her fingers and tasted it. Wendy experienced a pang of disappointment that she didn’t get to suck him off and the thought startled her.
I’m sorry because I didn’t get to blow him too…?
She shook her head to get rid of that stray thought. No more! But she had to admit, it had been so easy! She had worried over nothing! She let herself out and returned to her apartment. In minutes, she was sleeping dreamlessly.
Chapter Nine
Peter O’Grady
At eleven the next morning, the women exited a cab in front of the address Peter had given them. Of the four, only Carol appeared haggard and weary. The other three were almost cheerful. Just give the little man what he wanted, Wendy thought. Or was that what we wanted? She shook her head—it was so confusing.
The address turned out to be an expensive, newly remodeled townhouse in an upscale neighborhood. Diane rang the bell and they waited nervously. A formal, white-haired man dressed in a black suit answered the door.
Exotika 08 - Private Daydreams Page 5
