StripHer

by Titania Ladley

  I groaned and latched my gaze onto her swaying rump through the sheer cover-up she’d donned. Finally.

  At last I was going to claim that tight hole. Who gave a damn if it was wet or not?

  Chapter Two

  I scrubbed the bar top with vigorous strokes and watched them walk away, two sickening exes who remained lovebirds set on fornicating rabbit-style. I’d had the hots for that man for ages, ever since I’d spied him at the police station months ago. Mm-hm. Tight behind, so scrumptious in his uniform, and a promising bulge that made my anus tingle around the usual butt plug I’d had in my rear every day since zoning in on my newest fixation.

  Anal sex had become my latest fetish. I often fantasized about getting lucky with Frank in that way, so the plug had become a necessity, the only way I could get off when masturbating with his yummy image in my mind.

  Plus, I needed it there just in case he woke up from that stripper’s fakeness.

  The three couples I’d just waited on wandered away from the bar and claimed a table at the perimeter of the dance floor. They took long swigs of their cocktails, set them down and immediately went into suggestive dancing and swapping partners. The women went topless, the men unfastened their pants and let their “beasts” out.

  Too kinky of a place for my tastes, I decided as I polished the bar with excessive aggression. I snickered at myself. Well, just a notch over the level of my own kinkiness.

  But I had to put up with it. Going undercover and busting the owner for laundering drug money through Puss ’N Tush was the name of my duties, but getting some anal from that bewildering Frank Lyons had become my game. Jade eyes that hypnotized me, handsome face with a square jaw and lips that were made for devouring both of my sets of lips.

  My pussy warmed and wetted at the fantasy of it. But until the brief looks my way not minutes ago, I’d never caught his eye. Not even at the station when we’d pass each other in the hall during shift changes since we usually worked opposite shifts, or on our way to separate briefings, him for the street, me for my undercover cases for the day.

  I’d come to realize since landing a “job” here that his blindness had been because of her.

  That stuck-up Barbie stripper Jazmine.

  I couldn’t compete with her, not even with my full breasts, fit body and face and eyes that I’d been told were dick-raisers.

  Oh the fuck well. Probably best to pay attention to the reason I’d been assigned to this place. So I gave myself a mental shrug, ignoring the disappointment, and mixed drink after drink while I kept my eye on the owner. The slimy bastard had a sly way about him, but I saw through his sneaky plans. I’d overheard comments between him and his manager when I’d hidden in the storeroom, which I hadn’t had bugged at the time. The conversation had been something about the vault “which secured the ‘club’s’ flow of incoming funds” and held “the ‘outgoing crystal sugar’”.

  Meaning cocaine, meth and crack, I was certain.

  As far as all the prostitution, sex offenses and patrons’ minor drug use, well, that wasn’t exactly priority for the time being given the unlawful magnitude of his activities.

  I just needed to figure out that safe’s combination, get to it somehow with the video and audio transmitter embedded in my employee nametag and train it on any and all clues. Disengaging it with a push of a tiny hidden button was easy and quick, and what I’d planned as soon as I’d spotted Frank walking through the door.

  If I could catch his eye and lure him into a good time in the back room at the end of my shift, I knew this button would be the first “button” touched.

  Disengaging the transmission was top priority in my horny opinion. Didn’t want to incriminate Frank with the captain and cause the two of us to lose our jobs. That is, if he finally noticed me and we were able to hook up. So I’d figured—if I got lucky later tonight—I’d make excuses to the special agents set up in a nearby van, that the transmitter must be defective. Luckily they couldn’t do a damn thing about it at this point or they’d risk blowing my cover.

  But in addition to the vault, my mission required obtaining some incriminating conversation admitting to the drug-laundering crime and the names of participants and suppliers. I had Tito’s office bugged, but so far no luck.

  Maybe he suspected something and kept the conversation to club business? If so, I had a gut feeling he’d slip up at some point. The idiot.

  Crap, here he comes.

  I turned my back to him in order to discourage his ongoing lewdness with me, and made myself busy wiping down the already spotless center counter and tidying liquor bottles.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” I gasped when the whack on my bottom shocked me out of my thoughts. It sent a jolt of pain through my pelvis when his hand grazed the plug. Damn him.

  I turned and Tito “Sawshark” Faggini leered at me. I shivered and imagined a shark circling me, planning his ambush. It was rumored he’d gotten his nickname from his fondness for using a saw to dispose of narcs. I took a quick glance at his huge hands and could easily see him dismembering anyone—including his own mom—without batting an eye.

  And including me if he found out I participated in surveillance and attempting to put him in an eight-by-ten cell for life.

  I tried to ignore the natural fear and kicked my cop training into gear. My gaze shifted up his massive frame, along the suit and tie that probably cost more than my car, and back to his ugly face and balding head. He had a gold fang-like tooth in the upper side of his mouth and black irises that nailed me to the bar through the haze of his cocaine high.

  He set those creepy hands on the counter on either side of me and leaned in so the putrid odor of whiskey and tobacco engulfed me. “Hey, babe. What do you say you and me blow this joint and head back to my place? Your shift is just about over.”

  I swallowed back the puke that lurched in my esophagus and plastered a smile on my face. “Uh sorry, Tito, but I have a date already. Thanks though.”

  “Well, we could make it a threesome.” He jiggled his black bushy eyebrows and nudged my ear with his big nose.

  Ugh, make that pure bile. It roiled through my gut and threatened to come up with the hamburger I’d eaten on my break. I tossed aside the rag and folded my arms over my midriff, anything to get something between me and this predator. He finally backed off and stood straight.

  “I’ll have to take a rain check on that. It’s our first date. Wouldn’t want to appear too ‘loose’ from the get-go.”

  He shrugged. “Second date then. When you’re ready, just say the word, doll.” The nose-lift and spin on his Berluti Venezia leather loafers made me heave a sigh. He sauntered his way out of the bar enclosure and headed for the door, stopping now and then to enjoy the dance-floor antics.

  Good. The nasty ass-rag was leaving.

  I shook the revulsion from my entire body and went back to obsessing over Frank. Tito would be gone, so maybe I could have a little fun off the clock. My gaze shifted to the door, the one that led into the private “party” room.

  My teeth grinded together, causing my jaw to tense. I couldn’t tolerate thinking about what he and Jazmine were doing at the moment.

  After some time of brooding over the two, and after Tito left the club, a handsome man in a spiffy business suit busted through the door and shot past the bouncer checkpoint. The burly men were caught off guard, blinked, shouted obscenities at the intruder and went in pursuit of him.

  I exited the bar just when the new bartender relieved me of my shift and mumbled a “Hey, see ya later.”

  The pissed-off dude had time to round the U-bar and catch me on the opposite side, the side lining the stripper stages. “Where is she?”

  “She? She who?” I asked, noting the dreamy blue eyes and kissable lips. But his nostrils flared and his eyebrows scrunched down, making him less attractive than his potential.

  He clenched his fists and curled his lip. “Jazmine. Where the fuck is she?”

  Aha. The fiancé. “Uh
…” I let my gaze slide toward the door that led to the private room.

  His gaze followed mine just as I’d intended. He didn’t say one word, just pushed his way through the crowd, that door his sole destination.

  I suppressed a grin and trailed along behind him.

  Sweet!

  Hopefully he’d catch that slut red-handed. I rolled my eyes. But probably more like red-assed and cock-handed knowing her.

  * * * * *

  There were five booths in the back room, each with walls and bench seats carpeted in black. A platform ran across the length of the room above and behind the booths so the strippers could come at customers from above and do their acrobatic sex acts on a man—or woman. Or both. A side shelf in each space provided baskets of lubes, condoms, toys, snacks and small shot-sized bottles of various whiskeys, vodka, gin and tequila. Air-conditioning whirled through the room, stirring up the scent of pussy and perfume, and what could only be the pungent odor of pot. Male moans and girly voices sounded from the private spaces amid the beat of rock and hip-hop music pouring from the overhead speakers.

  “Sit down,” Jazmine ordered, leading me into the center booth.

  I obeyed and settled near the shelf. I wanted to be able to reach whatever I needed whenever I needed it. Like now. My excitement knotted my stomach, so I twisted open a bottle of vodka and drained it. “No. You sit. Your ass on my cock, that is. I can’t wait any longer, babe.”

  She giggled and gyrated her hips. I caught a glimpse of her pierced clit hood when she slid the G-string aside with a purple-tipped fingernail. “Don’t you want to strip me first? You paid for an entire hour.”

  “The only thing I want bared is that tight hole. Now.” I unzipped my jeans, released my cock and jerked up and down to get myself completely hard. My balls ached like a son of a bitch. They were heavy, taut and swollen against the crotch of my pants. They’d burst any minute if I didn’t get inside her soon.

  Her gaze dipped down and caressed my masturbating hand. She licked her lips and slid the chiffon robe off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor and pooled around her fuck-me stilettoes. Her breasts stood high and round, the skin glowing golden beneath the dim light in the room. My mouth watered at the sight of the pert nipples speared by tiny silver hoops. Damn, I did have a craving to suck on those delicious breasts, but the urge to bury my cock in her ass overrode it.

  I leaned forward and dragged the useless G-string down past her hips to her ankles. She kicked it aside and stood nude before me.

  Such perfection, a completely fuckable babe. I clenched my fists. At that moment I decided I could go back to banging her every day and night again if it wasn’t for the fact she required so damn much frickin’ money to get a piece of it.

  “I think you could use a blowjob to get you going, don’t you, Frankie?” she purred as she climbed onto the overhead platform. “That way, you can get as deep in my ass as that long cock of yours can go.”

  Couldn’t argue with that. I wanted the best of the best, although the last thing I needed was to get off before I’d even touched her hole with my dick.

  She smiled sweetly, but her eyes told the story of how horny she was—and sucking my cock had always gotten her in a crazy nympho state.

  Okay. I’d take a suck-off first. Why the hell not? Any guy would be crazy to turn down a blowjob, especially from Jaz. But I would not let her complete it. Oh no. I needed to come in her ass. Had to or I’d go out of my damn mind.

  I reclined back in the sloped seat and stared up at her. Hell, she even looked hot upside-down. “No arguments here.”

  Her breasts swayed as she stalked her way on all fours down the side slants so her cunt perched over my mouth. I could almost taste her juices without even touching my tongue to the pink flesh. She took a few swipes of my knob, her wet tongue sliding over me like warm lube. Tingly fire shot straight to my groin and sac. I yanked her hips toward me so her cleft slammed against my mouth and her high heels bobbed above my head. She smelled of clean pussy sweat and that kind of stripper perfume that made a man’s hormones leap to life and his cock go instantly hard.

  I had her moaning in seconds when I licked around her clit piercing. Her labia and clitoris felt like silk, but I wanted to get to the sweet center of her, so I stabbed my tongue into her cunt. The creamy flavor of her juices burst in my mouth. I needed more than a few drops so I tongue-fucked her deep, fast, violently.

  She screamed around my rod, making it vibrate from tip to balls. Such an expert blowjobber. Her mouth moved like a warm, tight suction toy, but her tongue did extra-naughty swirls that only Jazmine knew how to do for me. She groaned and sucked and slurped and did push-ups on her hands so she could bob up and down on me while I continued to eat her drenched pussy.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured around my bulk, now as stiff as stone. “You taste so good, feel so hard on my lips and tongue. Grrr, I can’t get your yummy cock deep enough into my throat.”

  I wrapped my arms around her hips and pulled her closer so I could eat her all over, labia, clit, pubic cleft, inner thighs and that small strip of flesh that separated her vagina from her anus.

  The forbidden wall that had always separated me from paradise.

  She sucked me brutally, bobbing on my dick like a piston. The blissful sensations swirled through my groin and made my own asshole clench. I reached around and traced her rectum with a damp fingertip.

  She whimpered.

  The mixed scent of her clean rear end and creamy pussy juices filled the space between her legs. I tried to reach the hole with my tongue yet I couldn’t quit get there.

  But I was going to if it was the last thing I ever did with her—to her—in this lifetime.

  “Goddamn it, Jaz, turn around. Can’t wait any longer.” I lifted her until her mouth popped off my rod then I guided her around so she sat on my lap and straddled me.

  Her face was flushed, her mouth glistening and swollen, her eyes wild with horniness. “How do you want me? Want me to face you and sit on it, or bend over so you can fuck my ass from behind? Your choice, Frankie. Either one sounds awesome to me.”

  “Stand up and bend over.” I was so pent-up with need and the rush to get to the prize that I didn’t care if I sounded like a snarling wolf.

  Jaz got to her feet and planted her hands on the higher slats next to me. Her long blonde hair trailed past her waist in waves and curls. Her bottom stuck out from the soft cloud of tendrils. The curve of it perched there, ready for me to nail her any second. “Just fuck me up the ass now. I’m so ready for it, you have no idea.”

  Well, it’s about fucking time.

  The overhead speakers started to play some old Kansas tune, something about some dust in the wind. Yeah, Jazmine was going to be dust in the wind all right, as soon as I got what should’ve been mine during our marriage long ago. And I’d blow outa here on a cloud of dust and probably never return once I had what I’d obsessed over for too long.

  Either that, or sampling it would addict me and have me practically living here.

  Yeah. That was more likely.

  I stood, lifted one of her arms so I could move behind her, set it back down to get her into a bent-over position. Finally. It was here. It perched right in front of me, the curve of her back, the tanned globes of her rump cradling her slightly opened rectum. Aah, man. Staring at the entrance, I stroked my cock. I reached for a condom from the basket, but decided to get a quick feel of the tight ring, just around the head of my rod before I suited up and slid it in.

  She gyrated her rear in that stripper’s way and glanced over her shoulder with her red-painted lips pursed. “Mmm, yeah, give it to me, honey.”

  My loins pounded and my balls were near to exploding. I set one hand on her back to still her movements and gripped my cock with the other. Bending, I jerked on myself while I took one long lick of her anus to moisten it for my entry.

  “Oh yes… Feels amazing.” She moaned, almost in time with the guttural groans of the men and wome
n in the booths on either side of us.

  Damn, her asshole tasted delicious. Like sugar and spices I couldn’t place. I inhaled. And her smell. God it made me pleasantly dizzy, as if I’d just snorted a line of coke or had on a gas mask at the dentist. She might be a shallow woman, but Jaz had it all from head to feet to perfect, scrumptious rump.

  I licked my lips and dragged the head of my prick around the silky flesh of her glutes. She moaned when I moved in closer toward the center of the target. I groaned in response to the whole damn scene, as if I were the star in some porno movie and she was my wicked screw partner. The excitement overtook me—the sounds of couples fucking and sucking and spanking each other in the nearby booths, the air swirling around me and cooling the sweat on my neck, the sensation of the sensitive skin at the head of my penis finally touching her hole.

  I tangled my hand in her thick hair and jerked her head back. “You want it, don’t you, you naughty girl?”

  “Mm-hm, mm-hm,” she whimpered. “Ooh, feels so good. So good. Push it in, Frank. All the way in.”

  I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were on fire trying to hold back, attempting to draw out the coming pleasure because I knew I’d explode as soon as I buried my shaft in her ass. But I couldn’t delay any longer. I pressed forward, holding my breath at the crazy feeling of her tight hole opening, swallowing up just the head of my penis. I held still, taking in the heat, the snug muscles wrapped around my tip, the sight of that little opening stretching and circling my cock head.

  Oh yeah, I was definitely going to get off as soon as I sank it to the balls. So damn tight, so damn nasty. I debated on the condom, wondered what she’d do if I didn’t pull out and glove up.

  Knew it was the best thing for both of us. Motherfucker.

  “Jaz… Hold on. Condom,” I panted, starting to withdraw.