Laurie the dancer
I met the woman of my dreams at a topless dance club. I know that doesn’t seem like the place to find true love, but the bizarre relationship works for us.
Laurie was the main attraction, by far and away the main attraction, in a host of lovely young girls at a well-known local strip joint. Of medium height, Laurie has black, lustrous, raven hair that curls below her shoulders. A Latin heritage, perhaps Mexican, gives her a creamy, bronzed skin. Her body is curvaceous, the way the goddess’s of the fifties were. Her lovely breasts are a handful, not too big, whiuch assures that they are not enhanced. Athletic kegs are well-portioned, and best of all, she had an ass that is to die for.
Laurie always wears red lipstick that accents her entire face and lines her full mouth. But for all her fabulous attributes, it is her face and finally her eyes that get you. Black orbs glow with a dark, sultry, almost ominous glare. When those eyes set on you, her expression gives her the appearance that she is total command, as if she is superior to everyone.
It is no secret that between the two of us, she definitely is superior, in looks, in experience and assurance.
After two weeks of visiting the club nightly, shelling out tens and twenties like candy, and treating me like a favored pet, Laurie invited me to coffee after work. Nodding enthusiastically, my tongue tied in knots, I agreed.
We met at a nearby Denny’s. I was waiting in a booth when she walked in. Walked isn’t really the appropriate term. She strode in, head held high, clad in a black leather jacket, a black leather mini-skirt, dark nylons and black high heels with very long heels. She looked like a Goddess. A wicked Goddess.
Normally, I can hold my own with people, conversing easily, but with her I could hardly talk. She had to pull the conversation out of me. I sat there staring at her like she was some perfect work of art. Thankfully, she found my shyness amusing.
Once we got past the usual chit-chat she asked me what I was into. I didn’t understand what she meant and talked about sports, books, movies and such. Still smiling, she inquired about my love life. For some reason, I confessed to things that I’ve never told anyone else. I told her about losing my wife, how she ran away with another man and how broke up I was about it. A good listener, she absorped the whole story. At times I felt as though she was evaluating me.
The night ended at the table. I asked if I could see her again and she said that I could take her shopping on Saturday, but if I wanted to continue seeing her I wasn’t allowed to come to the club anymore. When I asked why, she answered that she made the rules and that was one of them.
At that point I was willing to do anything to see her again so, like the fool I was, I agreed. The concession was the first in a long line of giving into her demands.
The four days until Saturday were filled with eager anticipation. I couldn’t wait until I saw her again and spent every night jerking off while imaging doing things to her that I had only dreamed of in my mind.
In the back of my mind I knew she was more woman than I could handle, but I didn’t care. The mere fact that such a brazen beauty would spend time with me made me want her all the more.
Saturday came. We went shopping. I bought her flowers. I spent a fortune on her as we wandered through the mall. It was as if she was testing me, checking to see if I would say no to any of her selections. I couldn’t. All she had to do was stop and look at some article of clothing and I rushed to purchase it for her.
Most of the outfits were the sexy kind that she would wear on stage.
“Will it bother you knowing that I’m going to wear this for other men?” she asked, holding up a naughty, sexy teddy that would display all of her assets to the audience. “Will you get jealous that other men, horny men, will see me in this and you won’t?” She asked these questions as she fondled the brief undergarment. Her eyes pored deep into me, again like she was measuring my response to see if I was up to the challenge.
“Yes,” I said. “It will make me jealous. I would do anything to see you in that.”
“What if I say you can’t see me in it?” As she asked the question, her eyes narrowed as they pierced my soul.
“Then I won’t. I’ll sit at home and dream about you. How incredibly sexy you are, and wish I could be there. I’ll be jealous, I’ll envy the other men, but I’ll fantasize about you and get turned on thinking about you in it.” She nodded at my response.
“That’s a good answer. You have to realize that by being with me there will be things I won’t allow you to do. But that’s part of it. You’ll have to accept the relationship on my terms.” I was lost in the depths of her wicked eyes. Again I agreed.
“Will it turn you on, knowing that I am showing myself off to other men?” She laughed when I nodded, as though she was going to enjoy the fact that my role was the part of the jealous boyfriend. She handed me the teddy. I bought it.
This went on for over two months. Every Saturday I would take her shopping and buy her things. That was the only day I could see her, but she consumed my every waking thought when she wasn’t around.
Unable to resist the lure of being close to her, I would sit outside the club, parked in my car, wishing I could go inside. But I would never disobey her. Even the Saturdays got to the point where they were limited. They always turned out the same way; I had to get her back by six, as she had to get ready for work.
I never complained because I was grateful for every second she gave me. She bewitched me. During our time together I took pride in carrying her packages and walking around with her. Even though she walked beside me all of the men in the mall checked her out, awed by her wild, haughty, incredibly sexy appearance. A lot of women gave her the once over too, some disdainfully, others jealously, and some with lust in their eyes.
One time, after a day of shopping she said she wanted to see my house. Driving over, I couldn’t resist peeking at her legs. Her skirt rode up to mid-thigh revealing the shapely form of her perfect leg. Shifting in my seat, I tried to find room for my growing member. A smug grin settled on her face as she noticed the effect her gams had on me.
Once inside, she inspected the house room by room, walking slowly as though she was a potential buyer. As I watched I noticed that she seemed impressed with the size of the place and the quality of the belongings. I had a lot of money and spent it on my possessions. The house and furnishings were top of the line and I hoped they impressed her.
“This will do,” she said as we returned to the front room.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’ll move in. After the honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?” My heart pounded with excitement.
“No, don’t get all excited. We’re not getting married. But in order for me to move in you’re going to have to treat me to a honeymoon vacation. You have to earn the right to have me in your place. Understand?”
I agreed eagerly, with dreams in my heart. My hopes were that I would finally get to know her in the fantasy ways I dreamed about.
I booked two weeks in Hawaii the very next day, choosing one of the best hotels on the island. When I called, Laurie informed me I couldn’t see her until the day of the flight. One of the provisions was to take out a new credit card that had a five thousand dollar limit and send it to her, so she could buy clothes to wear on the trip.
Once on the the flight I could hardly contain my excitement. Sitting next to her was not only thrilling, it was an honor. For most of the trip, I could barely keep my eyes off of her. Finally she tired of my ogling and told me to go sit somewhere else as I was bothering her. The rest of the flight I spent watching her talk to some lucky guy who flirted outrageously with her.
On land, I rushed us to the hotel, anxious to get her alone. That night I was a bundle of nerves. The dinner went slowly and I could hardly think of a thing to say. The drinks flowed and we both consumed freely. Little things throughout the evening made it apparent that she knew how much I wanted her and she played me like a cat with a mouse. A casual shot of her luscious legs, a tilt of her head so I could peer down her dress, almost any movement caused me to become further aroused.
Back in the room I finally got the chance to be with her alone. As I closed the door, she kissed me on the cheek giving me instructions to wait for her. With the walk of a stripper, she wiggled away towards the bathroom.
After a few lonely minutes, she strutted out clad only in black panties and a matching black bra. The color of the clothing matched her hair and offset her dark skin. There was a wicked sneer on her face like she was performing on stage and knew very well the effect her body had on men, and especially me.
I stood like a stone, transfixed by her sensuality. Wanting to be ready, I had stripped to my shorts. I stood, nervous and anxious.
Laurie moved toward the bed. Unsure of my role, I waited for her to tell me what to do. The grin remained glued on her face as she lay seductively on the bed. A small tent appeared on the surface of my shorts. Not being much of a lady’s man, I hoped my little guy would prove adequate.
Lauried beckoned me over. As I crept across the room, my cock strained with anticipation. I hoped I wouldn’t explode prematurely.
Once at the bed, I lay awkwardly on top of her. As I was partially to her side, she allowed my eager lips to find hers. Her full lips swallowed my own and her tongue attacked my open mouth darting in and out, totally in command. All rationality deserted me as lust overwhelmed me. The softness of her full body against me, my penis rubbing against her thigh, the emotion, the months of waiting, the build-up, all combined to overload my system. It was too much for me and I erupted in my shorts.
Moaning in exquisite ecstasy, I fell off of her, the wet front of my shorts giving away my response. She chuckled in a sort of a snort. Coming down from the high I realized what I had done.
The opportunity of a lifetime was wasted. I had a chance to make love with the woman of my dreams and I blew it, in more ways than one.
My initial sexual experience with my Goddess was over in seconds. I couldn’t believe it. Embarrassed, I rushed to the bathroom to change my soiled shorts.
Rummaging through my suitcase I discovered that I had not packed any underwear.
“Shit,” I cursed.
“What’s the matter? Besides the obvious.” Her chuckling added to my humiliation.
“I didn’t pack any underwear and these are soaked.” I stood naked in the room. I heard her moving about. She opened the door and glanced at my shrunken manhood. She laughed out loud.
“Well, no wonder. I knew you were small, but this.” She waved at my appendage. “This is ridiculous. That’s not small. That’s insignificant. Here.” She threw me a pair of her panties.
“Put those on. They’re much more suitable anyway.” She shook her head again as she surveyed my embarrassed little member. “That explains a lot.”
“I can’t wear these,” I protested.
“It’s no big deal.” I wasn’t sure whether she meant wearing the panties or the state of my manhood. “I wear them all the time. If they’re good enough for me they should be good enough for you. If you want to sleep with me, you’ll wear them.” Her words were enough to convince me. Maybe I would get another chance at her delicious charms.
As I reentered the room she had returned to the bed. Patting the sheet, she indicated for me to join her. As I lay down, I tried to think of a decent explanation.
“Laurie, I’m sorry about that incident earlier. I was just so excited about being with you after all this time that I sort of overdid it.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect much from you anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Her hand snuck under the sheet and fondled my little soldier through the confines of the tight panties. Her efforts were useless. Once satiated, my little guy usually retreated for some time.
“This is such a cute little thing,” she giggled. She grabbed my hand. “Here, feel my clit.” She rubbed my fingers against her pussy folds through her panties. It felt odd laying there, both of us playing with each other over the smooth fabric of our underwear. “See, my clitty is almost as big as yours. Or maybe I should say that your clitty is almost as big as mine.”
As confused as I was about her meaning, I disregarded her comments as a feeling of excitement surged through me. The little guy was trying his best to come around.
“Since you got to have your fun, I think it’s time you repaid me for the favor. What do you think?” Without waiting for me to answer she tugged her panties down and tossed them across the room. Grabbing me by my head she pushed me down until my head was between her long legs.
“It’s time for you to learn how to please me.” My tongue sought the luxury of her folds. “Lick away, pussy licker.” Settling between her legs I worked at pleasing her.
“You’re going to be the best little pussy licker ever. Won’t that be nice?” I started getting excited, just from pleasing her. My tongue licked with reverence.
“Ooh, that’s it, lap gently. Now harder. Stick your tongue inside once in a while. Circle the clitty with your mouth. Suck. Now lick with just the tip of your tongue.”
The night was instructional. I learned a lot. Mostly, I learned what it felt like to worship the pussy of Laurie.
To my surprise, the act of devotion was one of the most erotic experiences of my pathetic love life. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more sexually charged than at the fount of her womanhood.
We spent the first night just teaching me what she liked. After her third orgasm she seemed satisfied with my progress and turned over and went to sleep.
The next night went the same as the first except we skipped the part where I tried to penetrate her. She stripped, I slinked between her legs, and began to worship my beloved pussy.
As I got better she quit giving me instructions and settled for compliments and insults. For some reason, both were exciting.
“Ooh, that’s good pussy licker, use your worthless tongue. It’s a good thing that you have at least one decent appendage. Is your tongue becoming addicted to my delicious pussy? Do you love to taste the juices of Laurie’s hot, nasty cunt? Get used to it, it’s as close as you’re ever going to get to my twat.”
The two weeks we spent in Hawaii ended the same each night. She disrobed and I serviced her hot pussy with my adoring mouth.
Laurie was right about one thing. I was becoming addicted to her taste. For some strange reason, being glued to her nasty cunt became the ultimate in sensuality. With little resistance, I became a converted pussy licker, or as she called me eventually, her little pussy slave.
I learned it all, when to lick softly, how to lick hard. I knew when to suck and when to lap. I recognized how to nibble and when to tease. I remembered when to go real fast and when to enter her delicious pussy with my tongue. I tried it all. Every trick was seared into my enfeebled brain. Each response remembered and catalogued so that I knew when and how to please her. It was a challenge that I eagerly accepted. I wanted nothing more than to be the best pussy-licking slave that she ever knew.
One night, instead of lying on her back as I performed my pleasant duty, she threw me onto my back. Straddling my head, she lowered her magnificent cunt right to my awaiting mouth. There was something even more exciting about this position. Watching her sit on my face, her beautiful breasts jutting out above me, her eyes piercing mine, combined to heighten the feeling of ecstasy more than ever.
Another time, she invited me to shower with her. There I was allowed to wash her gorgeous body, soaping every part before kneeling to worship her in the cascading water. Again, the lasting impression formed in my mind was the subservient position and the humble way in which I feasted at her nasty cunt. My hands held the cheeks of her luscious ass as my mouth and tongue performed their duty.
One morning, she called me to the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. As I entered the sight before me left me dazed. Naked, she leaned slightly over the counter, the brush in her mouth, her eyes fixed on mine. She continued to brush while I waited, wondering what she wanted.
“Well?” The words hung in the air. My mouth was agape. “Get to it. I need a quickie this morning.” She indicated with a jerk of her head that I was supposed to perform my duty from behind. All of my performances previously had been on the bed, lying between her legs. We had never done it that way before. I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to get at her from behind.
Her eyes blazed. All resistance disappeared.
Dropping to my knees, I crawled to her backside. Already converted to being a pussy-licker, I have to confess that I’ve always had this thing for rear ends, especially fleshy ones like Lauries.
A gorgeous derriere gets me going like no other part of other womanly attributes.
As I crawled closer, I saw the most gorgeous ass I had ever had the honor of seeing. Stopping inches away, the view I had was definitely up close and personal. Salivating, my poor brain recognized the admiration I had for Laurie’s perfect rear end.
In some part of my mind I remembered a comment from a guy at the nightclub. He was talking with one of his buddies when he said, ‘Laurie’s got a great ass.”
“Yeah, she does. It’s the kind of ass you want to kiss.”
I thought at the time that the observation was a strange one. I didn’t understand how anyone would want to kiss someone’s ass. The whole thing sounded sort of degrading, almost perverted.
As I came face to face with Laurie’s luscious butt I finally got it. Being her pussy-locker was one thing. Being an ass-kisser was something entirely different. Pussy-licking is usually a prelimainary act to something more. Ass-licking is a form of submission, degrading in nature.
Despite the dire implications, my lips, with a mind of their own, brushed against a soft cheek. A moan, somewhere from the heart of me, escaped my throat.
A chuckle, almost evil in nature, filled the room.
“You can do that later,” she said. “Right now, I need your mouth where it belongs. On my pussy.”
Even with her tilted towards the mirror I could barely reach the nether lips of her precious pussy. My nose fit nicely into the crack of her buttocks, touching the hole. The postion was degrading but in a good way, an erotic, exciting way.
When she came from my oral adorations, I felt the electric sensation race through her body all the way through her and into me.
Laurie leaned against the counter and breathed deeply. Usually, I continued licking her, gently, as she descended from the orgasm. As I left the area of my worship, I planted another kiss on her ass.
After licking the soft skin of her globe, my tongue, with a mind of its own, invaded the place my nose rubbed against. It snaked out and entered the puckered hole.
I crossed the barrier. In a one quick moment, I had become her ass licker.
Our nightly sessions included ass worship as well as pussy devotion from then on. Laurie seemed delighted at my desire to lick her scrumptious ass.
My descent down the path of depravity didn’t end there. Before we left Hawaii Laurie found a new use for my tongue.
Another summons to the bathroom found her seated on the toilet. The door faced the porcelain stool and I could see the drops of liquid drip from the matted hair of her pussy. Instead of revulsion at the sight of her pee, all I saw was the chance to lick her beloved womanhood.