“You bet we’re together together,” he rumbled, testing my warmth while stretching out the tightness. “You bet your ass we are.”
And I’d giggled again even as I moaned because everything was fair game with Drake now, my cunt, my mouth, my ass, everything had been filled with him many times over, his seed spilled from me everywhere. And the truth was that I loved it. I loved the sensation of hot white dripping down my thighs, swallowing his tangy concoction, smearing it into my breasts as a special type of lotion.
Who knows how long we would have gone on like this? Possibly forever, given how good it was, how satisfying.
But my mom hadn’t forgotten her long-ago promise. On Friday we were at the breakfast table when she turned to me.
“Cleo, I’m looking forward to our girls’ night out tonight,” she remarked with a sly smile.
Drake looked over his paper, immediately suspicious. He had no idea that Mom had invited me to the Donkey Club a week ago.
“What’s going on?” he frowned. “You’ve never shown interest in your daughter before,” he growled at Lorena.
I looked up swiftly. It was unusual for Drake to acknowledge me so openly even though we were getting it on all the time. I was pretty sure that my mom knew I was living in her husband’s quarters now, but there was no need to wave it in her face, no need for Daddy to be overly possessive at the breakfast table.
But my mom wasn’t concerned at all.
“Oh Drake,” trilled Lorena. “Dinner and a show are for old fogeys. Cleo and I have something exciting planned … girls’ secret,” she winked.
My stepdad frowned again. “Okay, well don’t get too crazy. Cleo’s got a lot on her plate,” he said.
My mom smiled and nodded.
“Of course, Cleo’s got college to plan for, applications and essays,” she replied. “We’ll be home before you know it,” she promised. “Cleo,” she reminded me. “Let’s plan our outfits for tonight. The City is special and we don’t want to look passé.”
What a funny comment since my mom has never looked passé in her life. She was all sizzling curves, seductive smiles, oozing the charm of a worldly sophisticate. There was no way my mom would be ever be caught in something last season, much less old-fashioned and outdated.
So I just rolled my eyes, shooting a sweet smile at Drake before leaving with my mom to select an outfit for the night. And it was a good thing because my mom’s idea of appropriate attire was completely different from mine. She’d referred to the Donkey Club as a gentlemen’s establishment, so I figured something elegant, sexy without being revealing was appropriate. I held out a cocktail dress, a royal blue number, the hem coming down to my knees. It was sophisticated without being overly conservative, perfect for some mother/daughter time.
“How about this, Ma?” I asked, holding it up to my chest. “Understated and classy, perfect right?”
My mom glanced over.
“Oh Cleo, you’re so funny,” she said, snatching the dress out of my hands. “The Donkey Club is a gentlemen’s club honey, that dress is totally wrong.”
I was surprised. What was wrong with the blue number?
“Okay Ma, well should I go nicer and worse? I have no idea what would be appropriate,” I said. And we pawed through my whole closet before settling on an outfit. It was the weirdest thing. My mom urged me to wear my sexiest, slinkiest lingerie, a tiny hot pink set where the lace of my bra barely covered my nipples, the dusky outline of my areola visible underneath. But the clothes I wore over them – they were ridiculously countrified. I wore a tiny crop top layered underneath shortie overalls showing off a glimpse of midriff, my legs exposed. Frankly, I was embarrassed to be going into New York City dressed like this. But what the hell – I was happy just to spend time with my mom. So we got into a black car and zoomed off to the City, dusk descending around us, the night slowly dimming, our senses enhanced.
And we pulled up at the curb of a totally anonymous building.
“Are you sure this is a gentlemen’s club?” I asked dubiously, getting out. Absolutely nothing about the establishment gave any indication of what went on inside. The windows were blacked out and there was the dim thumping of music, but that could have been the bar across the street. Only a neon outline of a donkey lit up the sky, indicating that we were at the right place.
“Oh please baby, of course this is the right place,” sang my mom. “I’ve been here a million times. Come on, let’s go.”
And when we stepped into the Donkey Club that night I could see why my mom had suggested the overalls. The place was fucking ridiculous. This wasn’t a gentlemen’s club, this was a countrified trailer-park nickel and dime strip tease. A long, low bar took up half the room with signs overhead flashing Corona, Coors, your choice of cheap beer. Peanut shells littered the floor, sawdust coming up in fumes, and the tables didn’t look so clean either, grimy and smeared with unidentifiable sticky substances.
But what caught my attention were the three poles in the center of the room, girls gyrating under the spotlights, letting it all go in time to the thump of the music. The sheer explicitness of their moves, the uninhibited dancing, took my breath away. One girl was bent over, totally nude, her hands on the ground, cunny pressed backwards against the gleaming golden pole. And as the crowd roared, she humped her butt up and down, rubbing her snatch against the metal, smiling and winking at the audience.
But it wasn’t over yet. Slowly the brunette pulled her vag away, the pole now smeared with her pussy juice, the golden color dimmed with creamy white. And the chickie hopped around so that she was face-forward on her knees, caressing the rigid metal as she swiped at it with her tongue, licking up that delicious nectar. Oh yeah, she was tasting her honey, lasciviously licking her lips as she sucked up pussy cream.
But the woman next to her was even more daring. I watched with shocked eyes as she danced to the edge of the stage, pulling her g-string to the side, and let a man nuzzle between her legs. Oh yeah, I was sure he’d licked her there, tasted that little clit judging from the shiver than ran through her body, the half-closed eyes, the wetness smeared on her thighs. And the woman let out a little half-scream of ecstasy before snapping her thong back in place, dancing over to another crowd of men, shimmying seductively before doing a full squat, the material hiding nothing, pussy lips gleaming, bisected only by the tiniest string of fabric.
Breathing hard, I tried to look nonchalant, like I wasn’t a total newbie, but my nervousness was overwhelming.
“Mom, are you sure this is the right place?” I whispered again, poking her in the ribs, eyes darting right and left. “Is this what happens at gentlemen’s bars?”
My mom just tittered, patting my hand gently.
“Of course this is the right place, baby,” she purred. “You’ve just never seen the seedier side of things, girls who really know how to hustle. Jimmy, over here!” she called, waving one hand.
And a man came up to us, gushing.
“Lorena, you look fantastic. We’ve missed you!” he exclaimed. “It’s been a sad three years without you here at the Donkey Club.”
Wait a minute, my mom had worked here just three years ago?
“Hi Jimmy,” she purred, taking off her coat. “I’ve missed you guys too, but I brought something … err, someone to make up for my absence,” she said. “This is my daughter Cleo.”
Jimmy gaped, looking at me.
“Lorena!” he exclaimed. “You have a daughter who’s eighteen? You are so young, so beautiful, I never guessed you had children.”
My mom smirked. “I had my baby early, but you know us Latinas,” she said. “We are beaooo-tee-ful forever. Think Sofia Vergara. You know that bitch has an adult son? Oh yeah and she’s still got that va-va-voom.”
“That’s definitely true,” murmured Jimmy appreciatively, practically drooling at my mom’s sassy curves. “Ladies, let me show you to our VIP area. Can I take your coat?” he said, courteously extending an arm.
At thi
s point, I was totally intimidated, not sure what came next. It felt so wrong in the seedy joint, the fact that a ton of horny dudes were already looking me up and down like a tasty piece of candy. But I didn’t know what else to do, trapped like a rabbit. So I just went with the flow.
“Yes please,” I said loudly, trying not to show my nervousness. “Thanks, I’ll pick it up from the coat check when we leave.”
But my mom went one step further.
“Cleo honey, take off your clothes,” she commanded. “Just leave your lingerie on.”
I gawped, looking at her with shock, but my mom paid me no mind. In fact, she was following her own instructions – she began disrobing, slipping her shorts and t-shirt off to reveal a purple bra and g-string underneath.
“Ma!” I gasped. “What are you doing?” I mean, my mom looked fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but what the fuck?
“Cleo honey,” purred my mom, “you’ll see. Come on,” she commanded, sashaying to the VIP area.
I trembled. The Donkey Club was filled with rednecks, dudes who looked like they worked on farms, which was pretty incredible given that we were in the middle of Manhattan. Some were literally chewing stalks of hay, and I didn’t want to get undressed in front of them but I felt like I had no choice. Slowly, I eased off my overalls and shrugged out of the crop top, leaving nothing but my lingerie and a pair of stilettos. On trembling legs, I followed my mom, my ass swaying and boobs bouncing.
It was so uncomfortable walking through the crowded tables filled with men, not a few letting out cat-calls, hooting at us as we passed.
“There ya go, little girl,” cawed one. “Lookin’ fresh, lookin’ juicy.”
Another one went so far as to grope my ass as I snuck by, taking the opportunity to give my peach a solid smack.
“Ripe and plump, just like we like ‘em,” he cackled. And despite myself, I shivered a bit inside, my nips tingling as my cunny moistened. Could it really be happening? Were these disgusting guys, this dirty place, turning me on?
But I didn’t get a chance to think about it because as we neared a table filled with men, my mom pinched my ass cheek, making me jump.
“Mom, what the?” I gasped. “What was that for?”
But Lorena ignored me, instead turning to two men sitting in the booth.
“Robert, Lester,” she purred to two seedy-looking guys. “How are you? Long time no see.”
The two men looked up, oily and dressed in cheap suits.
“Well, well, what have we here?” growled the greasier of the two. “Our prodigal girl returns.”
“Yeah,” grunted the other. “Where the fuck you been?”
“Oh here and there,” replied Lorena airily, cocking a hip to the side. “You know I wanted to better my situation, and I got a housekeeping job with Drake Markham in Long Island.”
“The Drake Markham?” remarked the first dude, cocking an eyebrow. “The owner of the New York Jets?”
“Yep, that one,” smirked Lorena. “It was the best decision I ever made. Lonely older man, hot housekeeper? Check out my ring, boys,” she said, extending her left hand.
And both men’s eyebrows almost popped off their foreheads, the ten carat diamond sparkling madly even in the low light of the club. I’d seen that diamond before – one night, when spying on my stepdad, I’d watched amazed as he inserted it into Lorena’s cunt, stirring it a bit before pulling it out dripping wetly, sucking it, growling with pleasure.
“Tastes like nasty-ass woman,” he’d rumbled, eyeing my mom’s bod lasciviously.
And Lorena hadn’t let him down. Twisting sinuously, she’d parted her legs, revealing that pink slit, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Fuck me,” she breathed, “fuck me good with that ring.”
And of course, my step-dad had gone at it like an alpha male, stuffing the diamond back in her before burying himself to the balls in my mom’s ass, both of them panting and heaving like dogs gone wild. But that had been in the good ole days. I hadn’t seen something nasty and hot happen between them in ages now, and it wouldn’t happen anymore, not with me in Daddy’s bed.
But now the gem had reappeared, gleaming on my mom’s hand, giving no hint as to where it’d previously been.
“That’s a fuckin’ whopper alright,” marveled Lester. “Good for you.” Actually, come to think of it, the dude wasn’t terrible looking. Seedy, with a wifebeater under his pin-striped suit, but overall he was well-built with nice features.
“We always knew you were sharp,” added the second. “Glad you found a sugar-daddy.” Actually this guy wasn’t terrible looking either. I was just turned off by the guys’ overall presentation as Jersey guidos with slicked back hair and cheesy accents.
Besides this whole interchange was eye-opening. How did Lorena know these people? Why were we even here? But before I could butt in, my mom answered my questions.
“Lester,” said Lorena abruptly. “I’m here because I want to repay my debts. I left the Donkey Club hanging, but I don’t forget people who were good to me,” she said smoothly.
“Oh yeah, how?” said Les. For the first time, his gaze slid over to me appraisingly, like I was a piece of meat. “This your offering?” he grunted, nodding my way. I shrank back a bit, intimidated by the way his eyes assessed my curves.
“Yes indeed,” said my mom. “Cleo, come here.”
Nervously, I teetered over to the group. I’d been hiding in the back hoping no one would notice me, halfway behind a velvet drape.
“This is Cleo,” she said. “Turned eighteen two weeks ago, dances like a ballerina. Perfect material for the Donkey Club if you ask me,” she said conspiratorially.
I colored. I couldn’t dance at all, I had two left feet and had been a wallflower at my high school prom, literally sitting the entire night on the bleachers watching everyone else get jiggy. Why was my mom singing my praises?
But the guys didn’t say anything, merely looking me over, taking a swig of their beers.
“Boys, she’s a natural,” promised my mom. “Just give her a try, you’ll enjoy it,” she said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.
Give her a try? WTF, these guys better not touch me. My mom wasn’t pimping me out to these two losers, even if they had decent builds under their cheap suits.
But the men said nothing, instead appraising my curves, letting their eyes trail over my assets, lingering on my flat belly and big boobs.
Finally, Les replied.
“Ya think?” he said to the second guy.
“Sure, why not?” his friend replied.
I flushed. They were talking about me with me right there, and it made me feel like a speck of dust. But Jimmy turned to the girl spiraling on the stage in front of them and ran a finger in a line across his throat. The signal was unmistakable. The girl abruptly stopped dancing and slunk off, grabbing as many dollars as she could on her way out.
“What do you say, Red?” Jimmy addressed me abruptly. “Here now’s your chance.”
I gawped. He expected me to get up there and dance? Right now, in the middle of someone else’s set? I didn’t even recognize the music, it was some grinding heavy metal stuff and I usually liked Top 40 hits. But my mom shoved me into the spotlight, hissing, “Go!” fiercely.
“No Mom!” I gasped, trying to hide behind a chair even as my mom pried my fingers off the back. “No, what are you thinking?”
My mom just glared at me, her eyes fierce, her breathing coming hard.
“I’ve sacrificed so much for you, can’t you do one thing for me?” she hissed again. “Get out there! Make the most of what you have!” she commanded, glaring at me, hands on her hips.
And I almost cried then, hot tears rising to my eyes. But at the same time, I felt ashamed. My mom had done so much for me, worked as a cleaning lady as we tried to get by. And what had I done for her? Seduced my stepdad, that’s what.
And so I forced myself to get on the pedestal, hoisting myself up before looking a
round, unsure what to do. I looked at the two other girls still dancing and basically just tried to do what they did. I swayed my hips in small wiggles, kicked a foot out and tried to smile, still blindly looking out into the audience for my mom. I couldn’t see her, the light was too bright but I could hear her voice, hissing still.
“Dance!” she said. “Dance like you mean it!”
Like I meant it? Trembling, I tried to do a little more, swiveling a little, gyrating my hips, running my hands up and down my waist.
“Stop acting like you’re so innocent,” came Lorena’s hiss again. “Dance like your stepfather’s watching!” she commanded, and I almost passed out right there. Lorena knew? She knew about me and Drake? Oh god, oh no. But if she knew, then I might as well make the most of it. I closed my eyes, pretending that Drake was in the room with me, that it was just the two of us, his dark blue eyes leaving hot trails over my body. I blocked everything out and began dancing, just for him.
It was as if a light clicked on in my head, channeling the dirtiest moves I’d only ever seen on my laptop. Suggestively, I licked the pole once, and squatted, showing off my toned glutes, highlighting my calf muscles.
I noticed that the other girls were completely nude, and I toyed with my bra straps, softly stroking my shoulders, unsure about next steps. But my mom interjected again, her voice like a harpy, intruding into my dream.
“Take it off,” she hissed loudly from the sidelines. “Every single piece.”
Ugh, that didn’t sound good. But I turned back to imagining Drake. He’d told me that I needed experience, right? Well, I was going to get some right here, right now. So slowly, I slid the straps off my shoulders, and then unsnapped the clasp in the back, gripping the lace cups to my torso as a last ditch effort at modesty. But seeing my mom’s glare from the sidelines, I let the cups drop, exposing my Double Ds.
They were glorious, pale and creamy, jiggling and swaying as I continued to dance. The deep pink areola swung like hard candy, my nips stiff in the chill air of the club. I tugged one hesitantly and it lengthened immediately, protruding like a bullet.
My Boyfriend's Boss: A Forbidden Bad Boy Romance Page 23
