Their names are Cindi and Ken, but you figure out which is which.
Me? I’m 5'6" tall, and I have long chestnut colored straight hair with burgundy highlights and lots of bangs over my green eyes. I wear a size four in most things and have a rock hard bod if I do say so myself. It didn’t come easily, I workout four times a week to stay hard and hot. Am I a narcissist? Sure. Why not? I love to dance, dress in fetish wear, tease the hell out of guys and make the other ladies in my neighborhood hate me for my "talents." Get the picture? Good.
Oh yeah, I also love to fuck. Can’t forget that, can I?
This is going to be a series of episodes. I’m not sure how many that will be up to you, the readers. If you like them, let me know, I’ll keep them going until I run out of my escapades.
It all started about 18 years ago. I was a senior in college, majoring in, "Husband Finding 101," with a minor in psychology. Rob was a jock, err, maybe a jerk?
He was captain of the football team, quite handsome, hard bodied and with a cock that would make a mule jealous. We fell in lust at once, we spent our senior year fucking like they were making it illegal. I married him right after graduation.
I spent the next two years being pregnant, first with Ken, then with Cindi.
They were and still are the best parts of my marriage. Rob and I were divorced three years ago, it seemed that his ambition in life was to spend his weekends with his buddies playing touch football and drinking beer. Fortunately, the moron made gobs of money and we had a fabulous home and I got a really hot BMW Z4 out of the deal. Thankfully, now I’m free.
The reality of divorce hit me about six months after we separated. I needed to find a job to keep us going. His alimony and child support weren’t cutting it.
Not having ever really held a job after graduation, it was tough. I managed to find some part time gigs, but nothing that would really do the job. I applied to a dozen clinics as a counselor and psych. therapist, but with no luck.
Being a bit desperate, I saw an ad for dancers in a local club, that I can do for sure, I love to dance. I guessed that they were putting on some kind of show and wanted back-up dancers for a singer. I stopped by the club one night, dressed in a little black vinyl mini skirt and satin tie-top with platform heels, my hair done up to the 9's and lots of makeup. When I opened the door, I was a bit unnerved, it was a strip club and they wanted pole dancers. Oops!
"Well, I’m here," I thought to myself.
The manager looked me over like I was a piece of steak, very creepy to be sure. He pointed to the pole and grunted. Now, I’m no blushing virgin, but pole dancing? Really . . .
"OK, well just once for the fuck of it," I said softly.
I ran up on the stage, grabbed the pole and hopped up. The next five minutes were a bit of a blur. I do however, vividly recall the feeling of the cold steel pole rubbing against my satin panties, and pressing against my pussy lips. The more I slid around, the hotter I got. I found it hard to stop, and my panties were soaking wet when I finally got down. I wanted so badly to jam my fingers into my pussy and cum that I almost ran to the ladies’ room and did exactly that before I left the club. I’m sure that the manager saw my reddened face as I ran to relieve myself of my sexual tension. Quite honestly, it was the best orgasm that I had experienced for several years. Oh yeas, I got the job, and started that very night.
I was as nervous as a virgin in a whore house, but I did my shift, I smiled at the guys, they stuffed bills into my panties and made crude remarks. I became friends with two of the other girls, Lisa and Barbie(really) who gave me pointers how to survive the ordeal. The night was long, but successful, I made more than $300.00.
I got home at 4:00 A.M., and promptly fell asleep until lunchtime the next day.
I’m a working girl! Now, I figured, three shifts a week plus Saturday night and I’m rolling in clover. The next few weeks were a learning experience, I learned how to coax more cash out of the suckers, how to smile as they made crass remarks, and how to duck a flying glass. Yeah, this was one classy joint.
One Saturday night, the manager told Lisa and me that they were hosting a special party and that we were going to be the entertainment. Lisa was going to do a double on the same pole with me, the clients wanted to see a lesbian show and we were it! Now, I must confess that I am not a lesbian. I like a good, hard cock in my pussy or especially jammed hard into my ass way too much to become one.
Like most girls though, I had day dreamed about being with another hot girl, and nearly did while I was away in college.
She was beautiful, sexy as all hell, and a fellow cheerleader. We were both very drunk, and wound up falling asleep in each other’s arms before anything could happen.
Lisa looked at me and told me "Not to worry, it’s easy, and the guys throw cash at you like crazy."
That sounded good to me.
The scenario was simple and predictable. I was to be the virgin, Lisa was to be the Dominatrix who would seduce and subjugate me. I would be wearing pink, lace panties, a pink lace shelf-bra and pink platform heels. Very virginal, for sure.
Lisa would wear black leather, thigh-high boots, a black leather, studded thong and bra with a matching-studded collar and cuffs. The mere description of the outfit made me want one.
Saturday night came quickly. We were ready to go on at midnight. Lisa looked fabulous, and she was getting me hot just looking at her. I could imagine myself wearing that very outfit, with a man’s hair in my fist, pushing him to the ground as my slave.
"Oh, gotta get with it girl," I told myself.
I went on stage first and jumped onto the pole and began to rub up and down on it, then Lisa entered, the guys went wild over her. She took a riding crop that I had not seen before and slapped by ass really hard. I nearly fell off the pole from the shock of it. This was definitely NOT in the script. Lisa jumped on the pole with me and we gyrated around for a while, she groped my body and play masturbated me through my panties, I acted shocked, (I was!) And we played out the scene for the required six minutes. When we left the pole and stood on the raised stage, Lisa pushed me gently down onto my back. She straddled my body with her knees, and whispered to me,
"Act cool, the guys will go nuts over this,"
I shook my head "Yes."
Then, without warning, she pulled my panties to the side and took the handle of the riding crop and stuffed it into my pussy and began to masturbate me with it.
My eyes must have opened up so wide that they nearly popped out. I was shocked, but so turned on after the third thrust that I relaxed and started to moan like crazy. Lisa saw that this was not an act and kept it up, thrusting the hard, leather shaft in and out with speed and power. I didn’t want this to ever stop. I was in pig heaven. I began to climax in what seemed like seconds. I arched my back and screamed as I came. I could feel myself squirt for the first time in my life.
I was completely spent. I lay there with Lisa on top of me, kissing me passionately, and with me returning the kisses. I finally managed to recoup my composure and stand up, with Lisa’s help. We stumbled off to the dressing room, forgetting to gather our money. The manager followed us in and gave us the cash, we made nearly
$1000.00 each for the act!
However, it was not all an act. Lisa and I stood there in the room with the door locked. We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. I opened my arms up and Lisa immediately fell into them. We kissed and kissed for so long that we were sweating like pigs. My hand found its way into her thong, and I pleasured her to climax. I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and stuffed them into my mouth and sucked her pussy juice off them. She went wild, we fell onto the couch and spent the next hour licking each others pussies and finger fucking each other over and over. I must have climaxed a million times. I kept Cumming and Cumming. I had never before experienced such a magnificent and primal session of sexual abandon. No man had ever done this to me, not even close.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 3:00 A.M. Time to go home. Lisa and I managed to get our street clothes back on, and after an attempt to fix my makeup, we laughed and started out to our cars. Since I love fetish wear, my street clothes were not too much more covering than my pole dancing wear . . .
As this was the middle of August, and the night was as hot as the day, I had worn a neon pink spandex micro skirt and bra top as my street wear, along with stiletto heel, platform, pink pumps. Not exactly an outfit for the PTA meeting.
Then, it happened. I managed to drive about half way home when my car sputtered and died. Luckily, I managed to coast to the side of the road. I cranked it and cranked it. Nothing. Then it hit me, "Oh Fuck, I forgot to get gas this afternoon."
Here I am, 3:00a.m, dressed like a stripper, (oops, I am one!) and with no help in sight. Whom do I call at this hour to rescue me? I’m on a back road and I have not seen a car in 20 minutes. I started to cry uncontrollably.
I never saw the lights. I heard a knocking on my side window. I was so shocked that I nearly passed out. I looked up and through my tear-filled eyes saw a shiny gold badge.
"OH FUCK," I said loudly.
The officer motioned for me to roll my window down. I was so frightened I forgot how to do it . . .
I started to cry again.
The officer then opened my door up as I sat there crying like a baby. He asked me if I was OK, I guess I said yes, I think I babbled on and on for minutes, I have no idea what I said, I was so upset. He listened intently, I think I began to make sense, because I remember telling him my name, and showing him my license and stuff. I started to relax. He was very nice to me and quite comforting.
Then, he asked me to step out of the car. I panicked and started to cry again. I was dressed like a whore, was I going to be arrested, what about my kids at home was all that I could think.
But he was very nice, he actually said I was very pretty and that he would stay with me until road service came to give me gas. He told me that I was not in trouble, he had asked me to get out of the car so that if the car was hit by another, I would not be hurt. We stepped to the side of the road and waited.
Being the kind of girl that I am, I gave him a good hard look and checked him out. Not bad . . . tall, very well built, short sandy-blonde hair, blue eyes and a killer smile. Arms like tree trunks, and a rock hard belly. His grey uniform fit like it was hand tailored, not a ripple anywhere, his shiny, black leather, knee-high boots set off the black leather motorcycle jacket that he wore with his name and shield so prominent. I figured him to be a few years younger then I am, and apparently not married.
"Now, that’s a man," I thought to myself.
I felt the long-lost tingle starting to grow between my legs.
I felt instantly at ease. I blurted out my entire life story, and told him where I worked and why, he said little, he just listened. I think that I bent his ear for about a half-hour before the road service guy arrived. I managed to look at his hand once again, I saw no ring other than a college ring.
"Are you married?" I stammered out in the middle of saying something else.
"No, Ma’am," he politely answered.
"Very professional," I thought.
"Well, Officer Johnson, do you have a first name, or is it officer?" I laughed.
"Eddie," he answered. "Just Eddie."
"OK, just Eddie," I quipped.
We both laughed. I paid off the gas guy and he left. Eddie and I stood there in silence. Who would break the unwritten code of boy/girl awkwardness and speak first?
"Eddie - Erika" we both spoke at the same time. Silence . . . we looked at each other and laughed again.
"You first," I said.
"Ma’am, I can get into a lot of trouble for saying this, but you seem so nice, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow if you are free. I don’t mean to push you or anything, and I’m sorry if I am out of line, but . . ."
I cut him off with a finger across his lips.
"Shhhsh . . ." I whispered.
"Yes, I would love to have dinner with you, officer Eddie, what time, is good for you?"
"Eight?" he answered.
"Do you like to ride?" he added.
"Sure, see you then, sexy!"
I turned and got into my car and roared off toward home. I was smiling like a Cheshire cat who just ate the bird.
My first real date in three years!
Oh yes, I lied a bit, I had never been on a motorcycle before, but for this stud, I would climb a mountain. The ride home was just a blur, I was so tired and exhausted from Lisa and me having sex, that I must have just fallen into bed still dressed. I awoke the next day about 10:00A.M. when my cell phone went off.
Fumbling around for it, I realized that I never got undressed, nor actually made it into bed, I had slept on top of the covers all night.
The call was from Eddie, he texted me, "Hi doll, dress to ride, C.U. at eight."
I managed to get myself into the shower and finally get the day started.
