by A. m Madden
He catches me staring, motioning me over. I grab my beer and walk to his corner.
“Take a seat, Kid,” he demands as soon as I reach his table. He has taken to calling me Hank’s nickname. Every time he uses it I want to rearrange his face. The fucker can’t be more than a few years older.
I steal a chair from a nearby table and do as he asked. “Ladies, this kid is new in town.” The chicks surrounding Zane all smile and wave. I nod to each of them, making eye contact one by one. The rest of his band who are scattered among the female fan club, all regard me as they do every time they see me, like they want to take me out back and beat the shit out of me.
I haven’t done anything to them. My guess is it’s because Zane is suddenly paying attention to me. Hank told Zane I play bass. Hank said Zane sometimes fires a guy without warning, and it wouldn’t hurt to be ready and able when he does. I’m sure his bass player, Ron, is speculating he’s next. I’m hoping that’s the exact reason for Zane’s sudden interest in me. With luck, he’s considering hiring me. I owe Ron nothing, nor can I feel bad about wanting to steal his job. Such is fucking life.
The longer I sit here and take it all in, the more I feel my gut is right. Zane addresses his other two band mates, blatantly ignoring Ron. The more it happens, the more Ron throws daggers my way. He’s a decent sized dude, but I have enough rage and hostility inside me to do him some severe damage. I’d welcome a fight right about now. I won’t provoke, but I’ll fight back.
The chick to my right leans in and says, “Where are you from?”
What is this fascination with where I’m from? I get asked at least a dozen times a day. I give her my automatic lie.
“Oohh, really? Do you know Bill Leland?”
“Um…no.”
She smiles, missing the sarcasm in my voice. “He’s from Seattle, too.” She places her hand on my thigh before leaning closer. “I’m not from L.A. either.”
“Where are you from?”
“Wichita.”
I laugh spontaneously at the way she says her hometown. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” she smiles. “I get that all the time.”
“I was just expecting you to say something more exciting.”
She laughs along with me, “That’s exactly why I came here, some excitement.”
“What kind of excitement are you looking for?” I ask, all levity now gone from my voice. She hasn’t a clue what I’m getting at.
“I found it in my job, for the time being.” She leans in again and says, “I’m trying to get discovered. It’s not happening as quickly as I’d like it to, but at least I’m having a blast at my job.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an exotic dancer,” she offers proudly.
“Really?” I’m impressed. It’s not like she’s ordinary, by any means. She’s hot in a way. She acts younger than she looks. I’m not seeing it, though. She looks too naïve to be sexy on a stage.
“Doesn’t she look like a cheerleader?” Zane asks, obviously listening to our conversation.
The fucker is freaking me out. It’s like he’s me. I barely know him, yet he pegs me with every comment out of his mouth. The smirk on his face tells me he knows it too.
“Yeah, she does,” I admit, as she smiles and blushes. I find it hard to believe this chick strips…and strips well for that matter.
“She is amazing, man, sexy as fuck. You should check her out,” he once again reads my fucking mind.
“What’s your name?” she asks, probably to interrupt my blatant perusal of her body.
“Trey. You?”
She giggles and asks, “Do you want my stage name or my real name?”
“Both.”
“I’m Kate, but my fans know me as Mystic.”
“Mystic?” She shrugs, not at all embarrassed by my reaction. “How did you come up with Mystic?”
“It was my dog’s name when I was a little girl.”
For the second time I laugh out loud at her admission. Why would a pretty girl from Wichita come to L.A. to strip? I’m now even more confused to the profession she chose. This chick should be a schoolteacher, or a secretary, or like that fuck-face Zane said a cheerleader. I’m intrigued and I want to know more.
“Wanna get out of here?” I ask without any preamble whatsoever.
She nods enthusiastically and follows me out the door. On our way out, I see Mel sitting in the corner shaking her head, and I vaguely hear Zane calling my name.
Kate and I stand awkwardly on the sidewalk outside Hank’s. “Where to?” I ask, giving her control, for now. She looks up at me coyly. For some reason I’m not buying this act of hers. Her personality is a complete contradiction to her career.
“Let’s go to The Men’s Club. It’s where I work. I always drink for free, the bartender is a friend.”
Naked women and alcohol for free? Fuck if you need to ask me twice.
Kate and I hail a cab. Ten minutes later, we are inside the place where Kate morphs into Mystic. The music is loud and the place is dark except for the lights that spotlight the writhing bodies on stage. The girls are hot…supermodel hot. The club is high end. I was expecting a cheap dump. I’m so surprised by what I see that I never hear her calling my name. Suddenly she tugs on my hand, forcing me out of my trance and toward the bar. Once there, the bartender heads straight for us.
She makes a quick introduction, although I can’t hear a word of it. His name is either Blake, Jake, or Steve. Kate sits beside me, turning on her stool so she is facing me.
“So, what’s your story?”
“What is it with people wanting to know a stranger’s business?” I ask annoyed. The question always grates on a nerve and puts me in a mood. I take a long swig of my beer, choosing to not respond to her actual question.
“Must be bad,” she finally says when I sit silently. “Everyone has a story. Yours must be a good one.”
“I don’t have one.”
She shakes her head, causing her blonde ponytail to swing from side to side. I visualize wrapping it around my hand and pulling on it as I fuck her.
“Okay, I’ll start. I grew up in an upper-middle income home with two parents, a dog, a pool, and a white picket fence.” She pauses, waiting for me to ask the expected – And? But I don’t. “Sounds perfect, right?” she prompts.
I nod and she continues. “Well, it was perfect except for the nightly visits from my brother’s best friend, who my parents took in a few years earlier.” Now she catches my attention as I watch her carefully. “The thing is I liked it. Actually, I loved it. I was sixteen and he was seventeen. He was hot and popular, and I thought I was lucky. It became a game between us. In front of my family we pretended we couldn’t stand each other. Behind closed doors we were sex fiends.”
Kate takes a tiny sip of her beer, and then decides to take another one. “Things were going great. We hid our relationship for a year, but then we made the mistake of being more obvious at school. Word got back to my brother, and we never knew it.” She looks up into my eyes for the first time, remembering I’m still sitting here listening. “My brother paid us a visit one night with a baseball bat.”
I really don’t want to hear any more. I’m feeling sorry for her, and I’d rather feel indifference. I sit playing with the label on my Bud. Short of telling her to shut up, I’m not sure I can stop her at this point. “Dean didn’t make it,” is all she says. She just gave me a very clear picture with only four words.
I slowly move my gaze to her face. She sits staring into space, her pale blue eyes full of unshed tears. She meets my stare and shrugs. “So, big brother is now serving a life sentence. My parents blamed the whole thing on me. I was tagged a whore, so why not capitalize on my title?”
“Is that what goes on in here?” I tease. I now understand the swanky surroundings.
She doesn’t confirm, except for a quick shrug.
“So, this is a business meeting?” I ask, understanding her confession. I wi
ll not pay for sex. I never have and I never will.
“No, I’m not hustling you. I only turn tricks on the nights I work here. I am very careful keeping business separate from pleasure.”
Curiosity forces me to ask, “Why?”
“Why what? Why do I do it?”
“For starters.”
She smiles and shrugs. “It’s not like anyone sets out to do it. When you are struggling to pay your bills and someone propositions you with the same amount of money I would make in a week, it becomes tempting. For someone like me who loves sex, it’s a no brainer.”
“Seems the risks would outweigh the money.”
“I’m very careful. My clientele are customers from The Men’s Club. The owner knows most of them personally. He gets a cut for keeping us safe.”
“So all the girls here moonlight as…” I stop myself from using the word that is on the tip of my tongue.
“Whores?” she asks, smiling again. “It’s okay. That’s what we are, but classy ones.” Kate takes a sip of her beer adding, “Not all of us are…most are though. That’s how I met Zane. He’s a regular, and his band.”
No surprise there.
“It’s temporary. Once I get discovered, I’ll stop. I have a five-year plan. If I don’t become an actress within five years, I’m moving to porn.”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised by her candid admission of her goals. She smirks at my expression and says, “Like I said, I love sex. The pay is phenomenal, and you get health benefits.”
She makes me laugh out loud, yet again. This girl cracks me up. “You are too funny,” I admit.
“Well, health insurance is expensive. It’s an important thing to worry about.”
“Sounds like a dream job. Why wait five years?”
Kate motions for the bartender and asks for two more beers. Once he delivers, she responds to my question. “I’d always wonder if I could have made it in Hollywood. I need to give it a chance before I move to Plan B.”
“You’re very level-headed. I can respect that.”
She waves a hand at my compliment. “When you learn to fend for yourself at such an early age, you need to be logical. Common sense is the one thing I do well. Some would argue that point, but I refuse to make excuses for what I am. Every decision I’ve made, I stand behind.”
The music ends making the dark club eerily quiet. The few men that are scattered around the stage make no motion to move. I can only guess they know the drill and wait out the intermissions patiently. One of them blatantly adjusts himself as he gulps down his drink. I can relate. My own cock is menacingly pushing against my zipper. I’m horny as fuck.
My cock and brain commence an internal argument in my head.
I haven’t had sex in days, my cock argues.
She’s too curious about you, my brain responds.
Kate looks up at me and we lock eyes. As if reading my cock’s thoughts, she leans in and kisses my mouth. Her hand moves to my thigh, and she flexes her fingers as our kiss progresses. When she pulls away, she licks her lips while watching mine.
“I don’t pay for sex,” I clarify, in case she suddenly is changing her standards.
“I’m not working tonight,” she rebuts.
“Okay, just so we are clear.”
“Crystal.” She climbs off her stool and swivels my stool until she can position herself between my legs. “I like you, Trey. You’re honest.” When she slants her lips over mine, she simultaneously pushes herself into my rock hard bulge. She breaks the kiss and says, “I see you like me too. I have a roommate, let’s go to your place.”
I watch Kate from the doorway as she looks around my one room apartment. The futon is still unfolded from last night. Even though there isn’t much to look at, she takes her time taking it all in. I take my time taking her in. She’s tall, all legs. I try to imagine her dancing on stage, trying to picture what she must look like wearing nothing at all. It’s time I found out. So far she has called the shots. Her control of the situation is about to end.
I slowly walk over to my fridge, opening it to pull out a beer. “Do you want one?” I ask as she sits on the edge of my futon.
“Sure.”
I open it and carry it over to her. I then turn to sit at my little table.
“Why are you over there?” she asks before taking a long sip of her beer.
“I’m curious about something.”
“What about?”
“Your act at The Men’s Club.”
She smiles slowly, understanding my question. “Want a private viewing?”
I nod my head slowly, “For starters.”
She stands and looks around as if she lost something. “You don’t have a pole, or music. That’s like asking a painter to paint without brushes and paint, but lucky for you I can manage without. I’m that good,” she says, smiling seductively.
I can do without her chattiness. Her sweet voice kills the visual I have conjured up in my head. “Just strip, silently.”
“Are you always this forward?”
“Always.”
She laughs at my honest answer. Thankfully, she just nods without words. I lean back in my chair, waiting for her to show me what I’ve been waiting to see. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. The white bra she has on is completely sheer. Her rose colored nipples are visible as clear as day. They protrude against the fabric as it molds over them like a second skin. She stands still, not moving. I continue to stare at her gorgeous tits. They are perfectly sized, perfectly positioned. I’m sure her tits have gotten her plenty of tips from the horny bastards at her strip club. When I tear my gaze away from them, I see her smirking victoriously.
Only then does she unbutton and unzip her shorts. She peels them off her long legs, revealing a matching sheer thong. Her shaved pussy is now also visible. She may as well have nothing on. The illusion is hot as fucking hell. The hard-on I had at her club returns. I need to fuck this chick more than I’ve ever needed to fuck a chick before. The thought of taking something that most men have to pay for is a power trip like no other. Some would want nothing to do with her used pussy. I consider it chartered territory that I’m about to control.
Kate stands, as if waiting for instruction.
“Take off the bra.”
She reaches behind her to unfasten it, and then drops it at my feet. I take the opportunity to remove my shoes, socks, T-shirt, and belt at an extremely slow pace. I reach for my wallet to extract a condom. Not many girls would be comfortable standing before a perfect stranger for so many long minutes without getting flustered. Kate is a pro.
“Turn.”
She obeys again, slowly turning until she faces the other way. Her ass is amazing. The strap of her thong disappears between two perfectly round globes. I wouldn’t mind using her ass to pop my anal sex cherry. She’s a whore and has done it all. I may never get a more perfect opportunity.
I quietly walk behind her, close enough to feel the warmth from her skin. She turns her head slowly until she meets my stare. “Your ass looks like it’s begging to be spanked. You into spanking?”
“I’m into anything you’re into.”
“Good answer.” I know she’s totally playing me, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m playing her worse.
With one fingertip, I cause goose bumps to appear over her entire body. I trace her thong strap until it disappears between her ass cheeks. I skim my hands over her pale ass then up and around to her tits. When I take them in my hands, she rests her head on my shoulder.
“Real?”
“Real,” she confirms. The weight of them feels amazing in my hand. As I hold them, I run my thumb over both nipples. I watch myself fondling her. Her chest rises and falls with every breath. She reaches around to grab my cock.
“No,” I demand, and she instantly drops her hands at her sides.
I reach between her legs to cup her pussy. The silky fabric is cool beneath my touch, which is much cooler than the temperature of her skin. I
rest my hand there, choosing not to move it. Just as I pull her earlobe between my teeth, I bite down and grip her pussy roughly. Her only reaction is to call my name. When I slip my hand into her thong, she calls to God.
I flip her around and rip the thong from her body. Her response is to smile at me. Kate reaches for me again, but I take a step back. “No,” I repeat. She will not have the upper hand tonight. She drops her hand and continues to smile. She’s amusing me, or so she thinks.
“Get on the bed, on all fours.”
“You sure are bossy for a non-paying customer.”
“I’m not a customer. I’m a guy who has watched you flirt with me all night, and I’m at my limit.”
She tips her head in a mock salute and positions herself on the bed as I instructed. Her perfect ass is pointing at me as if it’s daring me. If the circumstances were different, I would probably have her on her back and have my face buried in her smooth pussy. I’m not embarrassed to admit burying my protected cock there is much smarter than burying my face. I let her wait in her uncompromising position as I take my time taking off my jeans and putting on a condom. Foreplay is not needed on my part. I’m pretty sure it’s not needed on her part either.
Once I’m protected, I finally move to the edge of the futon. I grab each ass cheek, squeezing them firmly. Her puckered hole now exposed to me. I skim a fingertip over it, and she arches toward me. “I want this.”
“Maybe if you’re a good boy, you can have it.”
The thought hardens me further. A throbbing sensation takes over my balls. My response is to slam into her. She gasps, not expecting it. Her “Oh, Gods” and “Yes, Treys” are annoying me.
“Shh,” I demand as I pummel harder and harder. She grips the sheets between her fingers taking every punishing blow I give her. The same rage that surfaced when I was with Missy now bubbles up inside. I shouldn’t be here fucking this stranger. I should be making love to Taylor. Thoughts of regret and remorse start to fuck with my libido. The more I think, the harder I thrust. Thank fuck my cock once again ignores my annoying conscience. Thank fuck I’m getting closer.
