She didn't put on as good a show as Holly did for Mark, but it was hot all the same. Mark stayed under the covers while his girlfriend finished dressing, her back toward me.
"Nice ass, Lori."
"Piss off! Aren't you supposed to be at Debbie's about now?"
"Yeah, but I got called into work. Can you tell her I can't make it tonight?" I silently mouthed 'Holly' to Mark, while Lori still had her back to me.
"I'll tell her," Mark said.
I gave him thumbs up and left.
#
I raced down the steps and jumped in the car with Holly, and we headed off toward her house.
As she drove down the highway, I leaned over and rubbed her crotch.
"So, is this where you were going to rub that cat toy? In your hot little pussy? I bet the cat would like that. I can't wait to get you home and set your tight little box on fire." I leaned down and kissed her thigh through her white linen pants while she continued driving. I kept stroking and kissing her. She periodically let out a quiet, yet desperate whimper. I let out a periodic 'Meow.'
I didn't know how far we had driven, nor did I care. My head was buried between her thighs, and I was in the equivalent of cat heaven. Suddenly, she violently jerked the car hard right, sending my face further into her lap.
She threw the car into park. "Come on, Catman," she said.
I pulled my head up and looked around. We sat outside a plain white single story building with a sign denoting that it was a public restroom. Holly opened the door and got out. I followed and she motioned for me to catch up as she headed for the pathway to the ladies restroom.
"Wait," I quietly called out, "what are we doing?"
She stopped, turned around, and faced me. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me in close to her. She whispered, "You're going to take me into the ladies room and finish what you started. I told you I was horny."
She grabbed my hand and boldly walked toward the ladies' restroom, me in tow. I threw glances side to side, checking to see who might have been around. I did see people, but I became consumed by the passion and excitement myself. The combination of bleach trying to disguise the smell of piss infiltrated my nose as we entered the restroom; all this was negated by my arousal. Two middle-aged Japanese women stood next to each other at the sinks, checking their make up when we walked in. Both their mouths dropped open when they saw me.
"It's okay, ladies," I said, "a quick fuck, and we're outta here."
Holly dragged me into one of the stalls. She undid my pants and dropped her own. This was far more thrilling than the glasses or bicycle games. Holly wasn't any quieter in public than she was in private. In between her ecstatic moans, I heard gasps from women on the other side of the stall door. Women came and went from the restroom. Holly just came.
#
We arrived back at her apartment around seven. I agreed when she said she was hungry, but managed to talk her into throwing in a frozen pizza instead of going to all the trouble of making Grandma's spaghetti. She seemed relieved in one way. Perhaps she was running low on anchovies.
After we watched Magnum P.I., Holly was ready for bed and another round with the cat toy. I didn't know if it was me or the thought of Tom Selleck that made her horny again, but it didn't matter; I had the cat in the bag.
We woke up Saturday morning curled together. She stroked my chest and spent a lot of time playing with my nipples. It only took of few minutes of her sucking on them before I was fully aroused. I flipped over on top of her and sucked her nipples, which put us in danger of bringing the neighbors around to tell her to keep the noise down.
When the moaning finished, we settled back into the comfort of each other's arms. Her head lying on my chest felt fantastic. A twenty-one year old nympho goddess. I was glad I won the bet with Mark. She was exceeding my expectations.
"Like, what do you want to do today?" she asked.
"We're doing it, babe."
She playfully smacked my chest. "Get serious. You'll get plenty this weekend. I know you're young, but you still need time to reload."
"To tell you the truth, I spent the last of my money on the twelve pack. I'm broke till payday."
She propped herself up and looked at me. "Don't worry, I got money. Hey, why don't you get a tattoo? My treat."
That was a bolt out of the blue, but if she was offering…."Cool. I saw this tiger down on Shit Street. It'd look really good on my back, but it's two hundred dollars. I could always pay you back though." I got excited at the prospect and hoped she'd agree.
"Hmm…" She ran her finger across my bicep. She spoke slowly. "I was thinking, like, maybe 'Holly', right here."
I momentarily stared at the ceiling. It was becoming quite a familiar sight to me whenever we laid in her bed talking. "Umm…I don't think so. Sorry, darling, I'm all for tattoos to fit the image, but I promised my mom I wouldn't get any tattoos with a woman's name. My dad had 'Mabel' tattooed on his forearm. Mom always made him wear long sleeves." I braced myself for a tantrum.
"Oh. So, you don't think this will last, then?" She laid back down but continued to stroke my chest, which was comforting. I expected the 'Holly Huff.'
I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You are forever branded in my heart. That's much more significant than a bit of ink on my arm."
"Then maybe we could do something real naughty." I felt her face tighten. "How about…I pose nude for a tattooist, while he does a naked portrait of me on your arm."
I smiled. The girl certainly had a sense of adventure. "Yeah, great, but by the time I'm sixty, your tits will be all wrinkly and saggy. You don't want that, do ya?"
"Oh…probably not." She lifted herself to look at me. "You know what I think?"
"Trust me, I don't."
"I think that's like really super mature. Good for you, sticking by your moral principals. I guess it's like they say; you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him swim upstream."
"I think you mean…oh, never mind."
She placed the back of her hand against her forehead, closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and faked a Southern accent. "Why, Mr. Chambers. I do declare. I'm crushed, but I respect your decision." She snapped her head down, and looked into my eyes. "Now, fuck me hard and I might forgive you."
Thirty-seven minutes later and I was forgiven.
#
Holly pointed to the sign Jezebel's. "Come on, let's go in here."
I pulled her back. "I came down to get a tattoo, remember? This is a nudie bar." I tugged her hand to move her along. Of all the strip clubs on Shit Street, she wanted to go into the one where I had unsuccessfully tried to fornicate a stripper on stage.
She tugged back. "We're going in. I want to see what these places are like, and you need a drink before you get needles stuck in your back." She did a little shoulder shimmy. "I've never been to a strip joint before."
I looked at my watch. Three in the afternoon. Okay, there shouldn't be too many pervs out yet. I had no idea why she wanted to go in. Maybe it was a gay check as per my earlier suggestion. God, taking my girlfriend into a titty bar, and she's paying. It was either sick or a turn on. Hmm…definite turn on.
The layout of the place was different from what I remembered of the last time I was there. Instead of a stage, a catwalk had been installed with chairs down both sides of the runway and tables scattered around in the background. I pulled her toward a table against a far wall. She won the tug again and we sat at the edge of the six-foot-wide, twenty-foot-long catwalk. There was an overhang on each side of the catwalk for placing drinks.
The only real lighting in the place shone on the walkway, with dim lighting over the bar at the far end. A Michelob sign flickered with fading bulbs failing to illuminate the 'h'. The odor of stale beer wafted up from the carpet every time someone walked on it.
A few dozen other patrons in the bar stared at the girls on stage offering weak applause and the occasional dollar bill at the end of a routine. Not surprisingly,
all other customers were male. I went to the bar and got us a couple of Coors with Holly's money.
I rejoined her just as an attractive Asian girl came out and did her routine, often stopping in front of us and shaking her bits in Holly's face. Holly stuffed a dollar bill in the girl's garter belt at the end of her dance.
She handed me a twenty. "Why don't you get us a couple more beers? This is kinda fun. Let's watch another one."
I got us a couple more beers, and it wasn't long before a slim, dark-haired girl come on stage. Again, Holly got the best view of anyone with the dancer spending most of her time in front of her.
It was so hot that my girlfriend was staring at another naked woman. Holly never took her eyes off the girl on stage which intensified my hard-on. My mind let Holly have a lesbian encounter with the stripper. What a beautiful moment. I'd have to hold that thought for the bedroom later that night.
At the next interval I wanted to leave and get the tattoo, but Holly insisted we stay and watch one more stripper. We sat drinking and waited for the next girl.
"Do you think anybody ever tries to get on stage and have sex with them?" Holly asked.
I took a swig of beer. "Umm…I doubt it. Probably not allowed." I looked at her and prayed her next words wouldn't be, 'But Sanchez said….'
A nice looking blonde appeared on the catwalk wearing a St. Louis Cardinal baseball uniform complete with baseball cap and a ponytail pulled through the hole in the back of it. She walked to the end of the runway, did an about-face, and came to stand in front of us. Holly rocked her head from side to side as Physical by Olivia Newton-John played. The stripper squatted in front of Holly, and slowly unbuttoned her top. She slid the top back, revealing well-rounded silicone boobs.
Holly stared at the woman's bare boobs, only a foot or two away from her face. The stripper stared back at Holly and smiled, then leaned in. In a sexy voice, she whispered, "You wanna give the boys a real show? Maybe do a little girl-on-girl action with me? I'll let you keep half the tips."
Part of me wanted her to get up there, but a larger part wanted to keep her for myself.
Holly stared at the stripper for a moment, looked at me, then back at the blonde. "Like, I don't bat from the other side."
The stripper winked and stood up. She continued to sashay up and down the catwalk.
Holly leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Let's go to the bathroom." She reached under the catwalk and rubbed my crotch. "I'm horny."
A chill rocked me. "What? Here? Now?"
She nodded slowly, and smiled naughtily. "I thought this kind of thing was supposed to do it for you guys." She kept rubbing me. "And it feels like it's working to me."
"You kinky little madam," I whispered. "You go on in, I'll be there in a minute."
Holly headed off to the bathroom and I went to the bar and asked for a clean bar towel, and stuffed it in my back pocket. I went to the ladies room, checking to make sure I wasn't seen before entering. "Holly," I quietly called out. No answer. "Holly?" I looked in the stalls. She wasn't there. Oh shit.
I exited the ladies, and walked across the corridor to the men's room. I didn't see anyone. The stall door to the last cubicle was open. I walked to the end of the room, and looked into the open cubicle. Holly stood there naked from the waist down - rubbing herself.
"Holy shit! What if it wasn't me walking in here?"
She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me in. "Shut your face and get on your knees."
I don't know if I managed to close the door or not. I passionately kissed Holly as I lowered my pants.
She grabbed my face with her hand and squeezed it. Hard. "I said on your knees, bitch." Her eyes smoldered with lust.
I lowered myself to my knees. Holly grabbed the back of my head and pulled it into her already wet twat. She tasted sweet as my tongue went to work on her prized bibble box. She certainly had gotten turned on very quickly and to an unusually heightened state.
"Umm…" she purred. "Yes. Eat me up. Oh, you're so good. I love it. Lick me. Oh, yes. God, I'm going to come, baby." She thrust her hips, driving my tongue deeper into her sweet spot. "Oh, yes. Faster. Oh, God. Oh, lick me, Suzie, Yes!"
I pulled my head back, disbelieving what I just heard.
She grabbed my head and thrust it back into her honey pot. "Finish me, bitch," she screamed.
I buried my head back where she wanted it as she rode out her orgasm, twisting and withering – her legs twitching with uncontrollable muscle spasms. She sounded loud, but it was difficult to tell with her thighs firmly wrapped around my head muffling any noise I could hear.
She slowly released her grip around my head as her body quivered. "Wow! That was fantastic."
I pulled my head back and wiped my mouth. I stood up and looked at her. "Who's Suzie?" I asked.
Her eyes widened before darting around the stall, looking everywhere except at me. "What?"
"You said Suzie."
"No, I didn't." She pulled up her jeans, her focus firmly planted on her zipper and button.
"Yes, you did. I heard you. You said Suzie."
"She placed her hands on her hips and finally met my eyes. "Tyler, I said 'Do me!'"
Did she? I could have sworn she said Suzie.
"You misunderstood me. Besides, how could you hear me over all that noise I was making?" She smiled and patted my cheek.
Good point. She was pretty loud.
Turning sideways, she scooted past me and out into the open bathroom.
"What about me?" I looked down at my still swollen cock.
"I'll close the door. Don't be too long." She left me alone with nothing but a memory and a bar towel.
#
We left the strip joint with Holly smiling. She gave the stripper a wave as we left and headed for the tattoo parlor. At least she stayed with me while I got the tattoo. I was afraid that she might have kept leaving to sneak some more peeks at naked girls.
She paid the tattooist when we left and we went back to her place. I decided that 'Suzie' was more a figment of my imagination and enjoyed the thought of her having lesbian thoughts of lust. But she was mine. Nothing would change that. The night was filled with normal heterosexual sex and no more screams of 'Do me.'
Holly took me back to base Monday morning. I arrived at the room, showered, changed, and went to work. That was the first time I saw Mark since I asked him to lie to Debbie for me. We took a break around ten o'clock and stepped outside into a cooling breeze.
"Where were you this morning?" I asked.
"I stayed with Lori." He leaned his back against the wall. "She got paranoid after you busted in on us. Now we're even."
"Yeah, she was nice." I smiled. "So you guys are good, huh?"
"Yeah, I really like her. I'll hang with her for a while."
"Good." I took a drag of my cigarette.
"Debbie's not too happy with you. I told her you were working, like you said. First words out of her mouth were 'Bullshit, he's out fucking Holly.' Just thought I'd warn you."
"Thanks. I'll sort it out with her. But she knows the score. She's practically given me permission to keep going with Holly."
He shook his finger. "Not when you have a date with her already lined up. What was it she said?" He looked skyward in thought, then clicked his fingers. "Oh, yeah. She said 'If he thinks I'm going to be his standby slut, he's got another thing coming.'"
"Can I borrow twenty bucks?" I asked.
He reached for his wallet. "What for?"
"I better get her some flowers."
He handed me the money. "Good luck, you're going to need it." He slapped me on the back.
"Ouch!"
"What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Holly been digging her nails in again?"
"No, she bought me a tattoo, as a gift. A two hundred dollar tiger, and she paid for it. I'd show you, but I still have the bandage on. Hurt like a bitch."
"Chambers," Watkins' voice bellowed across the shop.
I grimaced and handed Ma
rk my cigarette.
"I don't want this nasty thing," he yelled as I ran into the shop.
"Hang on to it. I'll be right back."
I went to Watkins' office.
"You wanted to see me, Petty Officer Watkins?"
"Yes. I need you to take a torch and go down to the Boston. The bubbleheads can't undo one of the nuts of a hose they're supposed to be delivering to us, so you need to go put some fire to it to get the nut to expand."
"Sure thing, boss."
I wheeled the rig with two large cylinders that would combine the oxygen and acetylene I needed to produce the flame down to the Boston. Putting the hoses from the torch in the overhead to prevent a trip hazard, I ran the required paperwork gaining permission to light an open flame inside a nuclear powered submarine. I got into position by the hose and a crew member of the sub, or bubblehead as we called them, stood next to me with a fire extinguisher at the ready as my fire watch.
I sat on the deck and fired up the torch, adjusting the flame to about ten inches long. I heated the nut. Another bubblehead sat next to me with a wrench, ready to loosen the stuck nut once I got it hot enough for it to expand. I moved the flame around the target. It was a tight location, and I kept a close eye on the surrounding area to make sure I didn't accidentally set something alight.
"Goddamn it, Tyler," someone shouted, "what the fuck are you doing?"
Startled, I turned to see who called. The torch in my hand, and the flame coming out of it, turned with me. Six inches from my right shoulder stood a Master Chief, yelling at one of his subordinates, Petty Officer Tyler. By the time I realized it wasn't me he was yelling at, it was too late. The flame had already caught the bottom of his pants leg.
The fire traveled up his pants. Master Chief's feet moved so fast it looked like he was dancing to Come on Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners. He danced and cursed as he batted at the flames with his hand. The fire continued to grow.
I turned off the torch and yelled at my fire watch. "Blast him!" I screamed, pointing to the Master Chief with his pants on fire. The fire watch froze, jaw dropped, watching Master Chief fast become an inferno.
I jumped to my feet, snatched the extinguisher out of the bubblehead's hand and pushed him out of the way. I pulled the safety pin and blasted Master Chief's burning pants with CO2. Master Chief stood coughing inside the cloud of smoke and carbon dioxide.
Trouble Triangle (Tyler's Trouble Trilogy) Page 12
