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The evening was heading south, after such a marvelous climb north. No, she couldn't call hubby and tell him she'd be working late. She was always home to tuck the kids in, and tonight would be no exception. And no, her suggestion of a morning date wouldn't work because he had a job site to visit and heaven forbid that they go one more day without the mechanical hand holding only he could give them. Shit! Dean had another type of hand holding on his mind, and the he was running out of options. Finally, she whispered "how about one more private?" and the cynic within him began to take over. Shakedown… come on… mercenary… were some of the milder terms floating through his head. But spending another twenty-five dollars with Pam would only downgrade his planned session at the Tokyo Rose Spa and Bathhouse from forty-five minutes to thirty, so what the hell?
The music this time was considerably slower, sexier. Of course from the way that she slinked down his body to rest on her knees between his legs, "The Star Spangled Banner" would have seemed sensual. Within ten seconds, thoughts of the attendants at the Tokyo Rose or soft porn videos in a lonely hotel room vanished as she artfully maneuvered the zipper of his fly into her mouth and lowered it with her head. "Oh yeah Baby, are you sure you can't call in sick tomorrow?" she purred while rubbing her cheek the length of his engorged cock. While Dean still had the mental wherewithal to review all of the business commitments for the remaining week, he found the words stuck behind a long, low moan. The tongue that had danced so nicely with his, now dipped and revolved around the helmet of his penis, now coated with a mixture of her saliva and his precum.
Too soon, she was up and turning her ass toward him. By now his mind was so fried from the effects of her mouth, that he was unable to notice precisely how she managed to guide his member past the blue lace thong and between her pussy lips. No question about mutual arousal here, she was wet and hot, as only a woman who wants a serious fuck can be. Nor were there any of the half-assed semi-strokes that the cheap whores from his Coast Guard days used to save wear and tear on their assets. Pam's pussy enveloped his cock, sucked it in, massaged it and caressed every inch of him; then let him out and repeated the motion again… and again. How to act normal under this type of action? Keep your hands in view he told himself, resisting the urge to grab her hips and impale Mr. Happy even deeper within her silky depths. His eyes darted from her ass as it moved up and down, to the bouncer at the door, to the girl on stage to the other customers, none of whom seemed to notice that the entertainer and her client in the corner booth were fucking like rabbits. Nor did they notice that when the song ended, the fucking continued. Finally, a hungry look from Pam, coupled with the words "now Baby" muttered through gritted teeth provoked a fountain of cum from his organ; filling her to dripping perfection and removing every last shred of tension from his body. Her release appeared to be no less satisfying.
No time for a lingering post-coital afterglow, his cock was still throbbing, spilling seed onto the dirty carpet as she stood up and rearranged herself, struggling to catch her breath and composure. Somehow, thanks seemed like an inadequate thing to say at this point, but he couldn't help notice that the bouncer was roaming in their direction on his regular rounds. Calm, cool and collected was the look he was going for; glazed-eyed quiet was probably what he was delivering at this point.
She was beside him again, under his arm and whispering into his ear. "I sorry to make it so quick Sweetie, but I wanted us to cum together." With that, she slipped to her feet, guiding his hand to her chest one final time. She leaned over to say "I work afternoons, from Tuesday to Friday. And I like to come in an hour or so early on Thursdays, just in case I want to chat with an old friend." As she moved away, she blew him a kiss, and said gently, "goodbye old friend."
