The street lights shine dimly over the long concrete roads that lead to fairly sized hotel complex. Cars come and go, while some sit in the parking lot for who knows how long as their owner lounges up in the tower floors of the hotel's tower. Patrons, guests, workers and inhabitants shuffle in and out the glass doors with various gaits. Some refined and hasty, others drunk and stumbling.
Save for me, a man named Trevor who simply stood there in indecisiveness.
"Where is she? She's really late." I muttered, glancing around nervously. "Damn it, Brenda! I knew I should've asked Ken, he's much more reliable."
I was a young man of 21. However, you'd never know just by looking at me. I'm short, around 5'2" even with my mat-black platform boots. Petite, yet also curvaceous. An hour-glass figure with wide hips and slender legs.
I hadn't taken full advantage of my shapely body, as I was clad in relatively mute and tamed street clothes. A plain long sleeve shirt, a pair of knee-length denim pants. A hoodie tied around my waist. My hair was short. Brown at the roots but that faded into a bright blonde.
"God damn it!" I stomp my boot upon the concrete while tossing my phone into my handbag. "Never gonna ask Brenda for a ride again."
Just as I have my outburst, a car pulls up to my side. The window rolls down, and a woman sighs as I enter the car.
"You're almost and hour late, Brenda! I could've been abducted or something, you know?"
"Not now, Trevor. Not in the mood. Work was hell and my head hurts."
I scowl and huff as I lay back into my seat. The next few minutes of the ride home were cloaked in silence. The song on the radio was drowned out by the thoughts and pondering of the two occupants, and not a word was uttered between us.
Brenda pulled into a metropolitan area that was on the way home, but I didn't recognize the area. I glanced around, noting how shady this part of town seemed. Neon signs of all sorts, from ones that simply say 'open' to ones displaying the silhouettes of naked women.
"Are we even going the right way, Brenda?" I asked with a somewhat commanding and combative tone.
"Yes, Trevor, yes, we are. This way's quicker. I know my way home." A pugnacious response from Brenda. Tensions were starting to rise. Both of us being headstrong and proud individuals, the exchange became heated as the car joined a line of automobiles halted at the scene of a fender-bender.
"Motherfucker! Just what I need." Brenda exclaimed, slapping her steering wheel.
"Maybe you should've got here sooner. Could've avoided this!" I smugly chided the driver while looking out the window towards all the sinful establishments.
Brenda had enough.
"Get out." She commanded.
"What? No, you're my ri-"
"Get the fuck out." Her voice raised from stern to severe in tone.
"Haha, yeah whatever." I laughed her words off.
Brenda crafted an ugly, furious frown before grabbing my phone and tossing it out the passenger window.
"Hey, what the fuck?" I exclaimed, rushing out of the car to retrieve my bag. When I turned around to return to the car, Brenda began to speed away. She took an alternate route to bypass the crash. The clop of her wheels and the roar of her engine faded into the distance.
All I could do was curse and raise my arms in defeat.
I gathered up my things, and much to my dismay I found that my phone was utterly destroyed. The screen was cracked, and the power button failed to activate the device.
"Un. Fucking. Believable." The words shot out of my mouth. I trample out of the road and onto a curb where a row of shops were plotted. She had left me in a particularly shady and conspicuous part of town.
The Red Light district.
Of course, its not actually called that. I forgot the name of the area, but that's what it was called collectively by both guests and co-workers of the hotel I worked at. A long strip with almost a mile of nothing but stores and establishments promoting and exploiting the base desires of the human body.
Signs displaying naked women and men were plastered everywhere. They advertised strip-clubs, porn-theaters and topless taverns among other things.
I sighed. This is definitely not somewhere I should be. I sat down upon the faintly lit bus-stop bench seat. A couple people standing nearby gave me a few lustful stares. Their eyes scanning over my young, plump body. Even through my clothes, one could see my feminine curves.
"Hey there, pretty young th'ang." One of them asks and brushes her hand over her bright green high-fade side mohawk. "Dayum... how'd you like to come home with us?" Another asks, jostling his bulge around behind a pair of hilariously tattered denim jeans.
I gulp in apprehension, clutching my hand bag close and scooting away while formulating an excuse. "Thanks, but I've got a date."
The woman traces the hem of her fluorescent pink booty shorts with her thumbs. "Doesn't look like they're here to me." The man then speaks. "Methinks she stood you up. Cute little things like you deserve better." The two close in, now sitting on either side of me. Both of the strangers shift their garments in such a way that both their penises effortlessly flop out.
Wait... both? One of them's girl though. She looks like one, at least. Don't tell me that she is actually a... "I-I'm a guy, you know!" I blurt out my last ditch effort fend off these rascals. I knew, subconsciously, that such an admission would do nothing. And sure enough...
"Don't matter to me, long as you got that fine ass." The male uttered to me. I was to frightened to be flattered. "We'll fuck you good regardless." The woman cooed. They inched closer to me! I began to sweat! What do I do?
"Stop."
A third voice commanded. It was stern and dominate, yet also feminine and calming. I look to see the owner of that word. What met my retinas was astounding.
A tall, pale bomb-shell of a woman. Medium-length blonde hair that framed her soft, gentle blue eyes. I was awestruck. And she wasn't dressed like these other two. She had class. A lengthy oriental dress with floral patterns atop jade green silk. She looked like royalty. She even had a squad of beefy bouncers backing her up.
"Shit, it's the queen and her babysitters. Let's bounce." The two harassers scoffed and backed off, tucking their dicks back into their pathetic excuses for pants. "Pfft, whatever. Bastard's probably got some kinda disease anyway." The man's ruffian companion adds her comment.
"Repulsive thugs, forcing themselves on strangers." The 'queen' derided before turning to me with a smile. "Are you alright there, dear?"
I nod slowly then quickly, the realization of what occurred hadn't completely settled in. "Yes, ma'am, they didn't do anything too bad." I rub my shoulder and grasp at my handbag. "Thank you."
"That's good to hear, and you're very welcome." The woman snaps her fingers. "Andrew." And one of her bodyguards hands her a piece of paper, which she hands to me. An advert for a strip-club show? In big bold letters, it red:
"Lashona Barrett! The 50-Cal Gal! The sexiest woman on the entire Freeview Red Light Strip! Limited time offer, 50% off admission prices. from 4/10 to 5/10 starting at 11:00 pm every weekend! Only at the Smoking Barrel venue on Freeview Rd and 34th!"
Various effects and fonts littered the flyer page, but all of it took a back-seat to a large photo of this woman in front of me laying in bed with her body completely exposed, save for her crotch which was obscured by what appears to be a massive sniper rifle. Along with this flyer, she provided me an exclusive 100% discount voucher!
"Please, take this. It's a voucher for my show. Allow me to apologize on the behalf of those two hooligans." This gorgeous, kind woman spoke in a husky voice that danced in my eardrums.
"T-thank you!" I exclaimed in delight. I didn't really know why, though. It was voucher for a strip show. I've never been to one, and I've never really been into that sort of thing. But I suppose it was just the fact that it was a gift from such a beautiful woman.
"Hmm... you're pretty cute. Mind if I know your name?"
"T-Trevor. Trevor Smithings, and... thanks again." I begin to blush, if I hadn't already long since started. "You probably gathered who I am." She offers an affectionate, almost benevolent smile. I nod. The image on the flyer was a definite match.
"Again, sorry for the discomfort they caused you. Do consider coming to my show at the Smoking Barrel, though. I promise all that fear will fade away."
I sat there dumbfounded, elated and frankly honored. I contemplated whether or not I should utilize this free voucher. It's a 100% discount ticket! To a strip-show... all about that beautiful woman! Not mention, the drinks are free if this voucher is to be believed.
I was just about to punch the address into my phone before I remembered it was completely smashed. I return to a sour mood until I see the very venue the she was listed to appear. The Smoking Barrel Strip Club and Bar.
I dump any second thoughts and doubts out of my brain and eagerly trot over to the place. A buff, bald bouncer stops me, but after showing the signed discount voucher he holds the door open for me and offers a smile. "Enjoy the show, beautiful." I smile back, albeit nervously.
I clench onto my purse, swimming through the ocean of people. Music and lights blare loudly and intensely. Good thing I don't have epilepsy, or this would be hell. I see an electric clock on the wall, which proclaims the time to be 10:53 pm. Good, I haven't missed it.
I look around anxiously and stuff the flyer and voucher into my handbag before hitting the bar. The tender there was a fit lad with nary an article of clothing save for some detached cuff-links and collar with a black tie riding the length of his midsection.
"What can I get for ya', beautiful?"
I stammered. I was still dressed modestly, yet he had no shirt, no coat. Almost nothing. I'm willing to bet he wasn't even wearing underwear behind that counter.
"S-something light." I respond. I wasn't much of a drinker, I only came to the bar to sit down, since the path to the front row seats near the cat-walk was blocked by eager viewers. He winks at me and leaves to fetch a drink.
After he returns he points to the catwalk and the sturdy metal stripper poles protruding from it. "Shows about to start, but not just any show. Lashona Barrett."
"The Fifty-Cal Gal." I finish for him unintentionally. "S-sorry."
"No worries. First time here? I don't recognize you."
I nod. "Yeah. First time in this part of town."
"Glad to have you here. You're in for a treat. Know why they call her the Fifty-Cal Gal?"
He points to Lashona as she emerges from a curtain, clad in the same attire she met me in. Although now she's sporting some serious bling. Rings, necklaces, bracelets... all kinds of shiny, gold jewelry.
Some intense, jazzy song begins to play as she struts along the length of the catwalk. One long dark leg in front of the other, she slowly approaches the pole. She begins to gradually unequip her accoutrements and toss them into the crowd. Finger by finger, rings fly into the crowd. One is even sent my way!
I react too late, but the bartender catches it and offers it to me.
On closer inspection the ring had a gun motif, etchings of bullets inscribed into its length. Topping the ring was a large diamond, about the size of a pinky fingernail. The gold of the ring coiled around the diamond with the shape of a rose vines. "Oh my, this one's got a diamond. You're a lucky one." I offer him a confused visage before my attention turns back to Lashona.
She offers the last and heaviest piece of jewelry, a wildly intricate and ornate necklace to a bouncer who she winks at. Now, she finally approaches the pole, casting aside her boa scarf. A pair of super thin silk panties are thrown off her leg as she spins gracefully upon the stripper pole.
"That's why they call her the Fifty-Cal Gal." The bartender proclaims just as Lashona tears off her dress and reveals a huge, dangling cock! An exotic caramel hue just like the rest of her body. The crowd within the establishment cheers, whistles, screams and waves their hands in excitement.
She swirls and waltzes around the pole with unspeakable beauty and grace. Not a single step was not masterfully deliberate and artfully planned. I couldn't look away. She rubs that giant shaft of hers against the pole, then sandwiches it in-between her tits.
She even manages to pull off an amazing triple spin with only her hands upon the pole, and lands perfectly upon her feet! It was evident she was enjoying herself. Even from here, I could see her skin glisten with sweat, and her wildly erect 8-incher pulse and throb in jubilation.
She hotdogs her cheeks between the pole, jerking the steel rod off with her plump jiggling ass. Crouching up and down to cover as much ground as she could while slowly pumping her shaft at a similar pace. All the while this was going on, her husky, melodic voice teased and encouraged the audience, shamelessly accentuating incredibly lewd acts that claimed to have wanted to do with the crowd.
Wads of dollar bills flew onto the catwalk. Every so often, she stuffed a dollar into her g-string panties, often placing it where her underwear cradled her balls.
I sat there, staring for god knows how long until the show sadly ended. Drunk and elated guests alike either exited the building or sauntered over to the bar. I snapped back into consciousness once the bartender began to tap my shoulder.
"You got a diamond in yours. That's a special invite. A private dance." He winked at me again and recommended I capitalize on this opportunity.
Without a second thought, I rose up and made my way to the nearest bouncer and showed him that I had received a diamond ring from Lashona. After a quick and concise "Follow me," he led me to a back-stage room with a door labeled 'VIP Lashona' and knocked on the door.
My heart raced, my asshole puckered, my tiny little cock stiffened. Many things in my body clenched in anticipation.
"Come in."
And so I did.
There she was. Lashona Barrett. The Fifty-Cal Gal. Alone in her dressing room. Naked and sitting upon a fancy square couch. Her dressing room was dimly lit, only a bit brighter than the strip-club main space, but it was nonetheless clean and sleek. Truly a room for royalty.
"My my, what luck you have. Trevor, I believe it was." She grins, one leg resting over the other. Thanks to that, her penis was obscured. Not that I cared, or anything. I did care, actually. I wanted to see it. I wanted to do more than just see it.
"Lock the door behind him. Make sure no one disturbs us." She issues this order to her bodyguards, but in a mellow respectful tone.
"Yeah, i-its me." I weakly confirm her guess as she beckons me closer. Eventually I end up sitting right next to her. Even sitting down, she almost towers over me. I have to look up at her to see her gorgeous face. I get a closer look at her fit but not unshapely body. Her tits were huge, and her perky pink nipples stiffened in the cool air. Although, I doubt they were the only stiff things present.
"Did you enjoy my show, Trevor?" She asked, tilting her body toward me slightly and resting a hand on my thigh.
"Yes! It was wonderful... I mean you were wonderful! I couldn't look away."
"Ho, you flatter me, Trevor. I have to admit, though, I can say the same about you." She holds my smooth pale chin her tender mocha palm. My heart beats like crazy!
"R-really?"
"Yep. You were the cutest man in that club. The cutest boy I've ever met. I just had to get closer."
My eyes widen in surprise and my cheeks flush in embarrassment. "How'd you know... that I'm a guy?"
"I heard you say that to those two thugs earlier. Plus..." Lashona points to the tent forming in my shorts. Well that answers that. I want to continue this, but I have no idea what to say or how to entice her. Lashona already has that covered, however, and sticks her tongue into my mouth. I squirm in surprise, but not resistance.
I only just met this woman, but every cell of my body is rejoicing from this kiss, and yearning for even more. I reach for her shaft and grip it tightly. I wasn't completely inexperienced, but I wasn't proficient. The most I've done was jacking off Brenda's brother Ken in the college dorms a few weeks back... but his cock wasn't as big as Lashona's! She was at least eight and half inches long and almost two inches thick! It was monstrous!
She hummed into the kiss before it got sloppy. Drool escaped our lips and we both gasped for air whenever an opening made itself known. I drew off of our kiss. I couldn't take it any longer. I wanted her inside me.
"Lashona...! I... I want your cock!" I beg to her, hoping for the sweet nirvana of her turgid chocolate rod. I was utterly elated when she obliged me.
"As you wish." She whispered into my ear before gently pushing me onto my back and stripping me of my clothes.
First, my shirt. Then, my pants and hoodie which had been tied around my waist. My socks, shoes and then finally undergarments.
Lashona lines up her cock head with my puckering asshole. Meanwhile she grabs a bottle of some clear fluid. It's lubricant. She slathers my nethers and pucker in it, as well as her titanic rod. She licks her lips as she sets the bottle aside and rubs her fat dick against my twitching anus. "You're so adorable, Trevor. I'm sure you'd pull off anything."
Her praise brightens my once anxious and eager smile, and I get the motivation to grab my cheeks and spread my crevice apart as much as possible. Lashona rests her right leg upon the couch, while the other supports her against the floor. She leans over, hovering above me and looking me directly in the eyes. Her tits dangle and rest upon my chest.
Here it comes. The paradise I've been craving ever since I saw her.
"I'm gonna put it in now... are you ready, Trevor?" She asks. I nod before she lands a kiss upon my forehead. "Make sure to relax. Try not to tense up. Give in to it." Her airy words and fragrant breath seem to help in that endeavor, and I resolve to decompress.
I feel her glands dig through my opening. Pain emerges at first as she gradually sheathes herself inside my sphincter. My insides constrict around her heat and weight. I instantly moan in absolute bliss. Following her advice, I practically go limp and simply let her have reign over me.
Her dense, heavy length tunnels through my canals, spreading apart the fleshy walls of my rectum. My hands tremble and struggle to cling to my ass cheeks as absolute bliss shoots out through my body from my asshole. My toes curl and grip the air, reaching for something to latch on side from the socks upon them.
"You're so tight, Trevor...! Your asshole is so tight...! I love it!"
Eventually, she reaches my prostate, and things get really rowdy. Lashona bottoms out, her entire eight and half-inch fuck-stick buried up to just centimeters before the ballsack inside my abyss. This must be heaven. This just has to be. Nothing can feel better than her penis pressed against my male g-spot.
My little toy had long since been standing at attention and leaking pre-cum. Within seconds of her attempting to pull out, my asshole gripped onto her and begged her to stay. My wish was fulfilled, and she dives back inside me so much faster than she first entered me. She slams my prostate, and forces a moan from my lips as well as a hot load of cum from my dick. Only the first thrust, and I'm already a sweaty, ejaculating mess.
"L... Lashona...!" I squeal her name. I don't care who hears me. I want to shout to the heavens of her glory!
She begins to move even faster, retreating out of and advancing into my boy-slit at a rising pace. She starts to go so fast that her pelvis slaps audibly against my butt, and my plump posterior jiggles and ripples on each impact. Hovering over me, she pants above me. I do a similar action, but with the added ceaseless moans of euphoria and pleasure, while every so often repeating her name in a shout of ecstasy.
"Trevor... I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in you." She reports to me, surprisingly softly. All this strained pleasure had no effect on her cool demeanor. "Take it all."
"Yess! Fuck! Cum in me! Fill me up!" I blare, turning my head up and clenching my teeth as I brace for her seed.
After countless thunderous thrusts against my delicate prostate, she finally slows down and unloads inside me. The heavenly sensation of her livid girl-cum flooding into my rectum causes me to ejaculate as well. Her penis deposits spurt after heavy spurt of semen into my narrow, once starving fissure. She finally somewhat breaks her cool demeanor and groans through her soft, kissable lips.
As she pulls away, she drags her cum with her until she has escaped me completely. Her sticky white milk seeps from my dilating ring. I massage my abused entrance and stick my finger into her sperm. "Lashona... Lashona... Lashona...!" I repeat her name after each haggard breath, as if I were metaphorically chiseling it into my mind.
I lay there, a sticky mess on my pelvis and a load of thick delicious shemale cum draining from me and forming a puddle. Lashona brushes my cheek with her hand before kissing me on the lips. She lays there, next to me. Nursing my battered backside and spent penis.
She stands up, cum still dribbling from her wilting prick. She cloaks me in a spare blanket. "I understand you've no way to get home. You can stay here with me, if you like." She smirks warmly before climbing back into the couch with me. She wraps her arm around me, cradling me into her warm and busty chest. Her cock pokes through my legs, brushing up against my sack. "Thanks... I'd love to, if you'd have me."
I rest my right arm over the couch armrest, and the other on my stomach. My left hand exhibited the diamond-topped ring she threw my way earlier. I hadn't taken it off since the bartender gave it to me. And I don't intend to ever take it off.
I'm her subject now.
She truly was a queen.
And I wanted nothing more than to be her royal play-thing.
------X------
The morning after, I awoke to the sight of Lashona's beautiful slumbering face. The sun's rays shine gently upon her gorgeous visage. It was like God himself pointed a spot-light upon her. I wouldn't blame the guy. She's just as, if not more, divine.
At first, I didn't recognize the room our lazing bodies tossed and turned within during the night. I reluctantly rolled away from her grasp and onto my back before sitting straight up. My eyes gazed about the four walls of the changing room. Eventually, my memory serves me and I recall where I am. The Smoking Barrel, where Lashona held her strip show.
I was so anxious and nerve-racked the night before that I had not even perceived the rest of the room. My eyes were set only upon my lover and maybe the couch we engaged upon. Posters, photos of her and even a few fire-arms of varying antiquity were affixed to wooden plaques and hung upon the walls. It felt quite homely for a changing room. I turned around to view more of the place, but stopped once I saw Lashona shuffle onto her backside.
She must be having a lovely dream, because her dusky mammoth schlong was completely stiff as it slid out from the cover of the blanket. All eight and a half delicious inches pointing straight upwards and twitching ever so slightly.
I glow red at the sight. I'll never get over how stupendously huge and bewitching her body is. The thought that such a thing invaded me causing my heart to skip beats every so often. Without thinking, I crawl towards her and hover my face over her crotch. I didn't even consider if this thing would actually fit in my mouth. But I didn't care. I planted a kiss on her urethral slit, then slashed it slowly with my tongue seconds after.
My tongue dove and dodged upon her, trailing along every contour. I slathered her glands in my saliva and coated her testicles in spit. I left no inch unsullied. My lips and taster wrapped around the side of her vast shaft, and my hands held her pulsating toy in place as I cradled her sack within my mouth.
But all that was simply a warm up.
I finally gathered the courage to face her penis head on, and stuff the thing into my throat. I did so hesitantly at first. My mouth opened and relaxed. I obscured her glossy tip with little issue, but the rest of her wasn't so easy.
As I bobbed down further, my lips puckered forward. I struggled to gobbled down her meat, but I persevered. I wanted to please her in any way I could. I groaned and whimpered, feeling the slight strain of my jaw and the resistance of my gag reflex. Each time I retreated, a wet loud plop echoed within the room. Occasionally, I drew off completely only to catch my breath and drool upon her shaft in hopes that would make the process easier. Once more, I took her into my mouth at a snails pace. My tongue dragged along her veins while contracting and wiping the underside of her drenched erection.
By some miracle, or by the grace of God himself, I managed to hide her entire shaft inside my mouth. I could feel the hot, throbbing presence in my throat. What came with that was an overwhelming sense of achievement. As well as a a sudden startling burst of semen that rocketed down my throat and a pair of clenching hands gripping my hair.
As soon as the weight upon my head lifted, I retreated and gasped for air. Spit and cum cascaded from my lips. As I didn't seem to get the message, I immediately returned to tending to Lashona's prick. I didn't want a single drop of cum to go to waste, so I accepted every squirt of seed from her engorged member. I only left her cock with a plop once I could no longer detect the gushing of sperm past my lips.
With both holes filled with her cum, I was now completely and utterly hers. I thought that I may be obsessed. But I didn't give a single fuck. In fact, I wanted to be obsessed. If she turned out to be some sort of ancient succubus demon, I would go ass first into hell with her and not think twice.
"Haa... hahaha... having breakfast without me, huh Trevor." She chuckled, patting my head as I still nursed her cock with my lips.
We spent the next few minutes, or maybe half hour, fucking before either of us even left the bed. After leaving a mess inside my backside, she rose from the couch and sifted through her wardrobe. I just lied there, reveling in the ecstasy of what my mouth and ass just went through. Eventually, I fell out of my rapturous daze and glared at a nearby clock.
It said 10:30 am.
I felt a cold sweat. The body's way of saying 'oh, fuck'.
I stumbled out of bed, and panicked to grab my clothes. Even the silky pink panties that once belonged to Brenda.
Lashona noticed me and looked on with her usual cool demeanor, but with an added tinge of surprise. "You alright? What's the rush for?" She asked me calmly. She had since equipped a rather modest silk dress that fell just past her knees, along with a cream-white key-hole sweater.
"I'm late for my shift! Hours late! Damn it!" I scramble about, shoving my trashed phone and plain leather wallet into my hand bag. I was just about to put my pants on when Lashona cupped my butt in her palms. I feel her bulge through the fabric of her dress bless my asscheeks.
"M-miss Lashona, I can't... I want to so bad! But I gotta-!" She cuts me off by wrapping her arms over my shoulders and sliding off my jacket.
"Why don't you work with me?"
I stand there, ass exposed and cushioning her penis, pants half-way equipped. I don't think a single word other than yes tumbled through my brain in the moments following. In fact, I said "Y-yes!" without hesitation.
"I mean, really? Would you hire me?" I inquired, my hands now upon hers and interlocked with her fingers. My jeans fell off me and circled my ankles.
"Of course. That is, if you don't mind becoming a stripper. We could be a double act. It'll be so much more fun than working at a hotel, don't you think?"
I really couldn't think of a reason to say no. I thought of countless reasons to say yes.
"I would love to, Lashona! I'd love to dance for you!" I elatedly yelled while turning around. The jeans at my feet caused me to trip as I twisted my stance within them and I fall backwards onto the couch with a grunt. Lashona chuckled before sauntering over to my side and propping up my head onto her soft thigh.
"We'll have to work on that clumsiness, though."
In the days that followed, Lashona taught me all there was to know about this event's routines. Her moves, her demeanor, her flavor, her technique. Everything. From on hours to off. Live shows to practice dances, I watched her. Every time she dances I am reminded of her beauty and her radiance. Many times I would simply loose myself in her body, my eyes darting more towards her curves and assets rather than her moves. She would often scold me for that. But she never gave up on me.
"Hmm... you're still stumbling, Trevor. You're either landing too early or too late." Her voice was serious, but still calm and melodic. I just couldn't get this last move down. I didn't foresee this amount of difficulty. I tried time and time again, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't pin it down. "It needs to be a graceful, exact landing." She tells me. I lay against the pole, mapping out the moves in my mind as the staff go about their business.
The bartender from the other night, who I've since come to know is named Noah, is behind the bar Lashona sits at. He's actually wearing clothes this time, although since the club is closed right now, that's not surprising.
"Keep practicing, Trevor. You'll learn it." He assures me. Lashona nods in agreement. "Failure is the staying down, not the falling down." She offers before gingerly downing a martini.
I clench my fists. I grab the pole and practice. I fall on my ass again. The lowered volume of the radio mocks me through the speakers. I get back up and try again. Some of the other dancers crowd around, offering tips that helped them out. A busty woman with 80's looking ginger hair says something about 'becoming the wind' in a Scottish accent. Another dancer, an Asian with long raven hair, remarks about 'a predator circling the prey.'
I try to arrange these pieces in a way that fits the puzzle. I stand there, leaning against the pole. I ponder for some time before a man walks in through the front door. The bouncers tail him closely like body guards. "We're opening in an hour, people. Hit the deck, man your stations, chop chop! This Halloween night is gonna be big." His foppish and energetic demeanor causes his short side-flick hair to twirl about. "Lashona, babe. Is this kid on for tonight? Need to know pronto, love." He addresses my queen Lashona in a speedy and completely over the top British accent. Sounds fake to me.
Lashona closes her eyes softly, and turns to me. Her blue eyes stare me down. I know what she's going to ask.
"I'm on for tonight. I can dance with you, Lashona." I proudly proclaim.
She nods, turning to the cockney man and shrugging. "You heard him. Put him on the showings board." The man orders to his bouncers. They bobble their shiny bald craniums before heading out the door.
An hour passes, and the Smoking Barrel opens. The Asian stripper's show has started, and she's busy spinning and twirling expertly around that pole. Fittingly enough, she was sporting a very liberal interpretation of a kimono and dancing a routine that at least somewhat resembled traditional Japanese dances.
I stood there, back stage, peeking at her show through a high definition camera feed. As for me, I was clad in your typical bunny suit, barring the cut out at the crotch that blatantly revealed the bulge cradled in my g-string. Red silk body piece with dark net stockings. A cotton ball for a tail and a head band sporting tall ear-like pieces of silk-covered plastic-polymer.
It went along with Lashona's costume, which was an incredibly skimpy outdoorsman. A hunter's vest as the only top. An ammo belt draped over her hips, and fishnet stockings. We were Lashona and Trevor. The hunter and the prey respectively. I didn't mind the position at all.
What I was worried about was my performance.
They called out for the Scottish girl's act. She came strolling out the curtains proudly, dressed up as a barbarian. She waved a huge and hopefully fake battle axe around. She rubbed her naughty bits all along the shaft of the faux-weapon, and even used it to spin around on the main pole. I was amazed at how she managed not to send it flying into the boisterous crowd, or how it managed not to send her flying.
I rubbed my forearm, the anxiety getting to me. Lashona noticed and pulled me close. A kiss from her lips was planted on my forehead. "If you don't want to dance, you don't have to." She told me. I knew she was trying to reassure or console me, but part of me felt she was trying to convince me to bow out and save the establishment the embarrassment. The daggers of shame and embarrassment prodded my insides.
"N-no, I'm dancing with you." I stammer. "I want to be out there with you...! I...!"
Before I could say another word, we were called to the stage. Lashona held out her hand to me as she prepared to throw open the stage curtains.
"Will you dance with me?" Lashona inquired.
"Yes. I will!"
We stepped out upon the stage. The speakers blared our names.
"LASHONA, THE HUNTRESS. Trevor, THE HUNTED."
The crowd cheered. Drinks were spilled. Men and women raised their hands up and chanted our names.
The minutes that passed somehow felt like painful eternity, but also speeding elation.
Lashona took the lead, strolling about the stage with her fake hunting rifle. The barrel of the gun pressed up against her nipples.
I did my part, and turned away.
I shook my backside, and caused it along with the little cotton tail to jiggle. I glided my hands all over my plump pale body. I was a sideshow for now. Supplementing Lashona's expert twirls, spins and rotations upon the pole.
The upbeat and somewhat country-esque funk music followed our steps. And when the singer said 'bang' in her song, it was the signal for me to take the helm.
"BANG."
Lashona 'shot' me with the 'rifle'. I clutched my chest and pretended to stagger backwards onto the pole, where I slid up and down upon it. I rested the back of my hand upon my head, as if I were about to faint. The iron pole fell in betwixt my cheeks, jammed in between my soft uncovered buns. Lashona strutted on by and cupped them. She groped them. Squeezed them! The way she manhandled my backside kick started my erection, and it managed to peek from out of my utterly minuscule knickers. The crowd burst into rejoice and whistles that rivaled the music in sheer volume.
It was the moment of truth. I spun around, leaning upon the pole, still pretending to be the skimpiest, sexually charged dying animal you ever did see.
Both of my hands were on the pole. I jumped from the ground and wrapped my legs around the pole and begin to spin.
One.
Two.
Three.
Stomp.
I did it. I stuck the landing perfectly. Both feet now on the ground, I descend onto my back. Sweat glazed my body. As I faked my final moments, my cock jiggled in the air each time I thrust my hips up. Lashona came to me after spinning a few times upon the pole. She reached down, her hands sliding over my fabric clad legs and wrapping them around my back. She pulled me up and rested me upon her hips. Our penises touched, and before the whole crowd we started frotting. The sweat from our dancing bodies was more than enough lube.
The crowd went wild and started chanting our names as Lashona jerked us both off. Our glistening cock slipped and slid upon one another. Her dark shaft dwarfed mine by at least two inches. It wasn't long before we started leaking pre-cum and started kissing. I rested my arms over her shoulders and gave into her lips. The two of us spun around some more, Lashona's remarkable strength and stamina supporting both our weights. She pressed me up against the wall of end of the stage and plugged my anus with her cock. Down to her sack, I was filled with her.
I've never felt such exhilaration in my life. The cool breeze from the air hitting my body. The soft, warm embrace of my queen holding me in her arms. Her stiff, lengthy cock burried inside my rectum. Stretching my walls and radiating warmth. I couldn't hold back.
Cum erupted from my urethra and coated the lower end of Lashona's rib cage. She scooped and slurped up a dollop of my seed and with one last twirl struck the ground with her foot. I leaned back almost as if I were doing the finishing pose of the waltz. Both of our hands were outstretched as we finished our routine. I fought a goofy, satisfied face while Lashona panted and blushed, but otherwise still held her kind, confident smile.
I closed my eyes, the last sight they witnessed before blackness was a smiling Lashona and her sapphire eyes.
I awoke later that evening, a bit sore. I was sprawled out over a couch. Lashona's couch. The one we spent our first night on. I was still clad in my bunny suit.
Lashona, who was laying next to me, was completely nude. I didn't say anything. And neither did she. All she did was engage in a lengthy kiss with me as her hand massaged my penis. I returned the favor and pumped my digits along her length.
"You did great out there, Trevor. You were gorgeous."
Blushing, I smile. A single tear left my eye. "Thank you... Lashona. I love you...!"
She wiped my tear away and pressed her forehead upon mine.
"I love you too, Trevor."
Our kissed resumed and I practically jumped into her lap. I impaled myself upon her erection, hungry for more since I didn't receive her seed during the performance.
I bounced up and down upon her thighs. My rump rippled with each impact, and my cock spasmed each time she battered my prostate. I weakly supported myself with my arms upon the sleek black couch below us. Our bodies slapped loudly as we mashed together. Sweat began to flow again upon our bodies, and a wet shine coated us. I moaned, groaned, yelped and whimpered obscenities with each and every touchdown into my sphincter. Every time she forced the sperm from my penis, I shouted her name.
"Lashona! Fuck, ahhh...! Lashona, cum inside of me! I want it! Please!" I beg and plead for this deliverance.
Finally, after god knows how many times she split apart my narrow insides with her girth, a torrent of her juice blasts deeper inside me. She coats my colon in her cum, marking me as the subject I am and always will be. She lets out a moan and clutches my hips, forcing them down against her pelvis as she shoots her livid white load into my backside. I quiver as a load of my own spurts out weakly from my joystick.
I squirm and gasp with a girly voice as Lashona prods my backdoor with her fingers. She gives my spent nethers a little massage and remarks at how loose my asshole has become thanks to her efforts.
Semen drips from my boy-cunt once I lift off of her with a wet squelch. My ass was destroyed, stuffed with her thick sticky jizz and dilating wildly. My breathing was heavy and my arms were weak. They gave out and I fell into the pillowy comfort of her melons. I collared her midsection with my arms and I refused to let go.
I wanted to be right then and right there forever.