by C. M. Lally
This woman is the one for me. I want to grant her every wish and desire, but I don’t know if I could. I feel filthy. My black soul will tarnish and stain her life, but damn if I don’t think she’d look good with some dirt on her. I’m thinking too hard again. I want her too badly. I’ve got to reign myself in or get caught up in the hurricane that she is.
I nod my head to her and swallow hard. I’m lost for my next words. “Oh, before I forget again...the cognac,” I blurt out, not meeting her eyes when the words are said. She gasps quietly and I watch her eyes widen in surprise at the sudden change in topic. She quickly recovers her professional face, but I already know I just crushed our intimate moment. I feel her heartbreak across the table.
“Yes, that was next on my agenda to speak to you about,” she states matter-of-factly finally pulling her hand from mine. She’s all business again and the sudden chill between us is fucking freezing.
I pull out Vinny’s business card and flip it over to the back before laying it down on the table and sliding it towards her. “This is what he needs. His information is on the other side. When you find it, can you give him a call?” I ask. “I really don’t want to be involved any further.”
“Sure. I’ll take care of it,” she replies, picking up the card and tucking it away in her notebook. She starts neatly stacking the papers on the table, getting ready to leave. She’s avoiding me. I’ve really hurt her in not addressing her list of wants.
“Don’t forget to come in for your birthday next week. I’ll have your lap dancer ready for you,” I casually throw out. I was hoping that would cheer her up a bit, but I guess not. She rolls her eyes at me, giving me that ‘you’re an asshole’ look I’m familiar with as she finishes gathering her belongings from the table.
“Brooke. Look at me?” I ask. She finishes placing her papers in her bag and pulling the shoulder strap up before heading my words. She’s stubborn. “I listened. I really did. This life...my life...it’s not clean and it’s not without its issues. There are major issues that usually cause jealousy, hatred, and very bad endings for relationships. I’ve seen it too many times, which is why I try really hard to avoid it. White picket fences don’t usually go well with leather, fish net and chains. I know you’ll get hurt, and I don’t want to be the one to hurt you.”
She stands so fast, her chair shrieks across the concrete and tips over, smacking the wood against the floor that reverberates loudly through the room. “And here I thought you were man enough to know your own mind. You’d only hurt me if you did it intentionally. So don’t. I trust you. Why don’t you trust me? Stop making excuses to not fall in love and just let it happen.” She steps back and walks away, leaving those words hanging like dark smoke on a sunny day.
“I already have,” I whisper to her back as she walks out the door.
Chapter 8 - Brooke
I haven’t spoken to him since our meeting when I walked out eight days ago. He left one message yesterday about tonight— wanting to ensure I was coming to the club for my birthday. It’s not something he specifically needs to know, but yes, I plan on showing up. My girlfriends and I are going to party it up and I’m getting my private lap dance. I sent him a one-worded text response of ‘yes’, and left it at that.
He invades through my mind at least fifty times a day. And that voice. I’m starting to hear it in my dreams. It keeps me up at night...and turned on. He’s got my needs revved up to high 24 hours a day, and I’m a miserable sopping mess. I even caught myself pulling out my vibrator at 4:00 am to finish off from my dream. The thought was to ease the ache so I didn’t go crazy. Problem is...now, it’s worse. So, yeah, I’m going tonight. I’m going to get my lap dance and maybe even orgasm at the touch of a real man, and not a dream or my vibrator.
My best friend, Lola, and I spend the morning at Surfside beach, and then enjoy the afternoon being treated at Tao Spa Miami, courtesy of my parents. I am a new woman, from head to toe. I’ve been massaged, pampered, and waxed bare. Lola surprises me with a mini shopping trip for new lingerie and a smoking hot dress for tonight.
“You’ve been a little distracted these past few days. Who is it you’ve got running through your mind?” Lola asks. She knows me well, even though we’ve been separated for almost six years. We stayed in touch, and even managed to stay close, with the help of FaceTime.
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to make a thing of it, especially tonight,” I practically beg her with my eyes. Lola can be loud and brash when provoked. You definitely want her on your side if problems arise, but she’s also got the heart of a teddy bear.
“Moi?” she says fluttering her long lashes at me in surprise, and raising her dainty hand to her chest. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Giggling out loud even as she says the words.
“There’s a man at the club tonight that I want beyond all reason, but...” I end the sentence abruptly. I’m not entirely sure how to finish it.
“But....he’s married?...he’s ugly?...he’s got a small dick? What? Finish the damn sentence, woman!” she begs.
“He’s...afraid.” I admit. There I put a word to it.
“Afraid of what?” she asks, laughing incredulously. That your tight pussy’s gonna suck him in and never let him out?”
“God, you make my lady parts sound like a galactic black hole,” I reply, smacking lightly at her arm. “No, he’s afraid to love, afraid to feel, afraid he’s going to ruin me, afraid he might actually fall in love with me, etc and so forth.” That’s the best I can do to explain him.
“He needs a push. A reason to overcome his fears,” she offers. “He clearly needs to see or feel a real and absolute reason for making a change in his life. Simply be the reason. You know, drive him insane with your womanly wiles. Force his hand.” And now I know why she’s one of the best couple counselors here in Miami-Dade County. Okay. Maybe that’s exactly what he needs. Now I’m glorious and ready for some fun.
We spend a few hours getting ready and picking the perfect ensemble of outfits and accessories for tonight. My girls and I arrive at the club a little before 9:00 pm. We’re half-lit from cocktails at dinner, and are in desperate need of some dancing. Thiago has a booth reserved for us, and we take full advantage of the dance floor, partying until the eleventh hour rings when it’s time to move upstairs for some male entertainment.
We make it through the first set, stuffing dollars and groping anything and everything that comes our way. I’m happy for the attention and the “Birthday Princess” sash they all make me wear, for it brings the men right to me. I lost count of how many two-minute lap dances, bump & grinds and ass slaps I received as my birthday spankings. One of the lap-dancers was Matt, from the week before. The music was loud, but I was able to hear him confirm we were re-scheduled for later. So, now I know Thiago is a man of his word. Why am I sad about that though?
After the end of the show, the same helluva big man from last week named Perry approached me. He’s the size of a mountain, but has a friendly smile. He escorts me back to the same long hallway I entered last week, but veers off to a side room at the furthest end of a separate, more private, corridor. He opens the door and asks me to wait inside for my dancer.
This room is more opulent than the one from last week. I sit on a round chaise lounge of red velvet. It’s decorated in finer, more luxurious materials with heavier carpet on the floor. There are white silk coverings on the far bed that’s loaded with massive fluffy pillows. The kind of fluffy pillows you want to dive into at free will. The wooden beams of the bed have white sheer curtains hanging around it, but are held back with white and gold tassels. The whole bed looks like an ethereal cloud— like a place where Angels receive carnal pleasure.
The door opens and Matt walks in, beaming a smile at me and strutting like he knows he’s gorgeous. My stomach flutters a little with nerves. He’s a beautiful man, and sexy as hell, but he doesn’t make my body zing with electric like Thiago does. I hope I enjoy this. It�
��s just meant to be some fun. I really want to enjoy this. Matt doesn’t say a word to me, but moves around the room efficiently, walking over to the stereo system first for some music. ‘1+1’ by Beyonce begins to play, and he turns toward me, stopping to grab a black satin blindfold first.
“May I?” he asks.
“Why would you need to?” I question sharply, panic rising in my response. The butterflies kick their fluttering up ten notches all of the sudden. It’s the first time I’ve ever paid for intimacy and maybe it’s not what I think. My body tenses as he brushes my hair over my shoulders. Memories of Thomas flood my mind, and I begin to rise off the bed. He lightly caresses my shoulder to ease my fear.
“It just heightens the experience. I won’t hurt you. It’s meant to be pleasurable, I promise. Perry is right outside this door. He will come in and check on you when our time is up,” he admits, further easing my fears. He’s right. Thiago wouldn’t let this go on if bad things happened. I trust Thiago, so I should trust the rules that are established for the private suites. I swallow hard pushing down my fears. For once, I’m not going to worry about what might happen. With a slight nod of approval, he wraps the blindfold around me securing the Velcro.
Instantly all of my senses come alive. The music gets louder, and goose bumps form on my skin from uncertainty. Maybe I should stop this and change my mind. I can feel the room get hotter as his body heat transfers to the air around us. He moves away from me and a small nudge of panic creeps into my gut.
A few minutes pass and I’m a big bundle of contained energy squirming in my seat. Just as I begin to worry about his absence, fingers slide over the backs of my hands and lift them from my thighs to help me stand. He’s holding them lightly and caressing them, causing heated sparks to shoot through me. We walk towards where the bed is, with him slowly guiding me by my elbow. It’s an easy pace, turning me when we arrive as he places his hands on my shoulders. Tingles rush down my spine. I’m guided backwards until my legs press against the mattress and coverings. He caresses his fingers up my back to find the zipper, gently sliding it down my body until my dress hits the floor, leaving me almost naked. My breasts are exposed, but my pussy is barely covered with crotchless panties. He brushes against my knees as he bends down, and I feel him kiss one of my knees before he raises my feet one by one to discard my dress.
The music changes to “Body on Me” by Rita Ora, and the air in the room thickens with sultry heat. Blood is racing to my sex, and my clit is throbbing. I need him to touch me, but I can’t ask him too. That’s not how this works. My body is alive, and a tight yearning feeling is building in my core. It’s winding and twisting. He pushes on my shoulders and I fall back onto the cloud of white coverings, snuggling deeper into them as they poof up around me. His fingers lightly touch my face as I feel his knees climb onto the bed and separate my legs, opening them wide as he hovers over me.
Softly, he traces down my neck and over my bare breasts, circling my nipples in slow, continuous movements until they are engorged and erect. Wet kisses, nips and licks are planted down my throat and his tongue flicks over each nipple until I feel him suck hard and pull them into his mouth in long drawn movements. The coolness of his breath blowing on each nipple makes me wetter. The yearning that I feel intensifies in my core, and my hands grip onto his shoulders leaving half-moon marks in his skin.
I dig my heels into the bed and bend my legs, spreading them open wider. His tongue traces from my breast down the center of my stomach to the edge line of my panties. His fingers trace along the ruffled edging, spreading outward to finally grip my hips. I can feel his long hair brushing across my inner things, and hot breath caresses my labial lips. He runs the tip of his tongue up my sex until he can clasp onto my clit, sucking again hard in more long, drawn-out motions. I grab onto his hair and guide him to where I need pressure. He reacts well and moves just where I need it. Perfection!
“Oh, God. Don’t stop. That’s perfect,” I moan loudly at first and whisper that last word, trying to contain my emotions. I don’t want to scream aloud like it’s been forever...but it’s been foooreverrrr since a man’s gone down on me. And I have missed it so much.
He settles down between my legs and wraps his arms underneath my thighs pulling my pussy into his mouth, like he plans on feasting there for a while. His fingers spread me open wide and his tongue fucks me as fully and thoroughly as possible. Low whimpers thrum from my throat at first, but get louder as a crescendo of pressure builds. Tightly, my fingers clench the duvet coverings until my fingertips hurt. My hips are thrusting ever so slightly into his face giving him deeper access. He is slow and methodical about the way he gives pleasure. He nips at my clit, and laves and licks the outer walls of my pussy until I explode.
The room goes suddenly quiet and only then do I realize how loud I am. Gentle kisses trail down my inner thighs, and he licks from my knee down to my ankle in one long stroke. If that’s what passes for a private lap dance around here, I’d pay for that over and over again...a few times a week until I was broke and begging for more. The private lap dance rooms have rumors running rampant in the city about what goes on back here. Few are willing to pay for the pleasure, but now I know and it’s so worth it.
I continue to lay there stunned with ecstasy and floating within an orgasm coma. My body is humming on good vibes and the remains of alcohol I consumed. I feel fingers twine with mine and a supernova spark of thrill goes through me before I’m slowly pulled to a sitting position. Maybe Matt is growing on me after that performance, because I’ve only ever felt that spark with Thiago. There is shuffling at my feet and I hear the silk of my dress being rustled. One by one, each foot is tapped and lifted, before I’m coaxed into standing. My dress slides up my hips, caressing them before my arms are maneuvered into the straps and placed on my shoulders. Every movement is whisper soft and gentle, raising goose bumps on my sensitive skin. His gentleness is revering almost. The zipper slides closed and his fingers slide across my shoulders and down to my elbow before being released.
Hushed footsteps glide across the carpet, and I hear the door latch unlock and open. The sudden quiet in the room chills me. That was utterly phenomenal, and exactly what I needed. I lift my arms up to remove the blindfold just as Perry comes inside.
“Was everything to your liking, ma’am?” he asks with polite discretion.
I shine my bright eyes at him, and respond with a simple “Yes, thank you.”
Chapter 9 - Thiago
It’s been a few days since her birthday, and I just can’t bring myself to call her. Guilt consumes me. I’ve never tricked anyone for the pleasure of their body. Brooke is the first, and by all that is holy, she will be the last. The last woman I ever taste. Her pussy was Heaven and I was a starving man trying to get in the gates to worship an angel. How do I tell her that Matt and I switched places after he blindfolded her?
I know I’m going to hell—that stunt just signed me up for more torture in the pits. But fuck me if it wasn’t worth it. Her juices were as sweet as summer-ripened strawberries with cream. And the fucking moans— every delicious one made my dick harder and thicker until I thought my pant seam would bust. I wanted to go ahead and take her. I wanted to fuck her until she screamed my name, but I couldn’t without her consent. I may be a selfish man, but I’m not completely morally corrupt. She will be mine. One. Fucking. Day.
Mateo and Dante have asked me to schedule another meeting with her to finalize pricing and plans. They’re both ready to proceed, but I’m not. I’m afraid she’ll see right through the guilt on my face. I should just schedule the meeting for them and not attend. That thought fucking depresses me. I’ve turned into a whipped man, brought down to my knees with one lick of her pussy.
She’s already filling every hour of my day, awake and asleep, with my mind wanting her again. Alright. No more daydreaming in my office about her. I drop my feet from the corner of my desk and reach for my phone. It rings a few times, before her voice message comes o
n. Hi, this is Brooke. I’m out and about today bringing liqueur sales to a new level in Miami. Don’t forget to ask me about the hottest drink trends for your business. Please leave a message and I promise to return your call within two hours. Thank you. I’m so busy getting lost in the sound of her voice, I didn’t hear the beep.
Moments go by in silence before I quickly blurt out, “Brooke, its Thiago. We are ready to proceed with finalizing the plans for the bar remodels. Mateo and Dante have final numbers for you. Please call me to arrange a meeting,” and that’s it. I hang up, forcing out those last words. Fucking imbecile. And now I wait.
I spend the next few hours going over miscellaneous reports from Dante, trying to make heads or tails of the business trends Dante is pointing out to me. When that no longer holds my attention and the itch to will my phone to ring starts to take over I walk out into the club. It’s Saturday, so the club is open starting at noon, but the main shows don’t start until after 4 pm. Right now, solo dancers inhabit the cages, poles, and aerial silks as entertainment.
Several women make eye contact with me as I stroll throughout the club, but none of them are calling out to my baser male instincts. My dick is dead to everyone but Brooke. As a matter of fact, my dick’s not been hard at the sight of other women since my switch trick with Brooke. How the fuck am I gonna fix this? And why the fuck hasn’t she called? It’s been more than two hours, and my patience is waning.
