Master and Maeve: A Night Outbyameliajax©
I like to think it was my idea to go, but really, he's the one who brought it up. It was in passing, and maybe he was only half serious, but once it was out there, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I wanted to go so badly. I wanted him to take me. But of course, he made me beg him for it.
"Please ... please ... take me with you ..." I panted. We were in the bathroom at Starbucks. He was indulging me, feeling generous. He knows the game I like to play, the one where we pretend we don't know each other in a public place, sit at separate tables, and then when he goes to the bathroom, I follow him. We even have a secret knock, in case I don't follow him closely enough. But I always do. It's even better if someone sees us. That's why Starbuck's is ideal. Good size, unisex bathroom. Usually pretty clean. And if you're lucky, there's someone waiting when you come out. The look on their faces when we come out, one at a time, and then go sit at separate tables, is beyond priceless.
"I'm not sure you deserve to go. Have you been good?" He had me pinned against the tiled wall, one hand flat against my chest, one had pressed up between my legs, my skirt pushed up around my waist. I was not wearing panties. I almost never did anymore.
"I have, I promise ..." The words were more a groan than the semblance of a sentence. He was torturing me and he knew it. The hand he had pressed between my legs was applying mild pressure, but that was it. No gentle rubbing of my clit. No fingers pushed not-so-gently into my throbbing, wet cunt. The anticipation was excruciating. Not knowing whether he would give me release or walk abruptly out of the bathroom was maddening. Every nerve screamed out for his touch. My cunt was so swollen with longing, so wet, I was sure I was dripping into his hand. He was torturing me, and though I thought I would go mad if he didn't start doing something with his hand, he knew I wanted this more. Intense anticipation. The not touching made the orgasm I would eventually have even more epic than with just touching alone. Still, every sexual instinct in me demanded I move my hips and rub myself against his hand, but I had made that mistake before. Any movement on my part was the quickest way to ensure an early exit on his part, and then he really wouldn't take me where I wanted to go. That was a lesson I had learned quickly. I dug my nails into the palms of my hands in an effort to keep still.
Immediately I dropped to my knees. Six months ago I would have hesitated. I would have taken a quick look around to see how clean this particular Starbucks bathroom actually was. But like I said, I was learning my lessons quickly. I sat back on my heels and spread my knees apart as far as they would go. I pulled my tank top off quickly and removed my bra. I put my hands on my knees, palms up. I bowed my head and waited. It made me strong. I was breathing quickly. I just hoped I wouldn't hyperventilate this time.
"You're learning, Little One." He said. "That pleases me."
My heart skipped a beat. These were the words I wanted to hear. Almost more than I wanted him to touch me. Almost.
"Put on your top, but not your bra. Put it in your bag when you go back and sit down. When you see me leave, wait 10 minutes, and then follow me out to my car. Then I'll let you show me how badly you really want to go. My cock needs your attention."
I would obey. I always did.
Part One -- The Proposition
When we walked in the door, I didn't know what to expect. My only experience with a place like this was TV and movies. I had never been to a REAL ... um ... Gentleman's Club.
Bright lights, dark corners, loud music. It smelled surprisingly ... neutral. Lots of men in groups, plus a good number that seemed to be alone. When we got inside we got a fair number of looks, but not as many as I expected. A few guys we passed on our way in gave me a good look, and tried to high-five him. He ignored them. He only had eyes for me. Watching me, gauging my reaction to what I was seeing. It made me more nervous than I already was, but it excited me, as well. I was feeling tingly already. I was thrilled he had decided to bring me here. Maybe my expectations were too high, maybe he was right and I couldn't get one of the dancers to touch or kiss me. But the night seemed full of promise already. Just the fact that we were here. Together. We weren't supposed to be here. We weren't supposed to be together. And yet.
We got some drinks and found a table away from the main action. He sat close to me and put a hand on my leg. The warmth of his touch on my bare skin sent shivers through me, and I could feel dampness between my legs. Once again, I was not wearing panties under my skirt.
"Look around," he said. "Tell me if you see anything you like." He smirked at me in that way he has, and I laughed. "Tonight only, it can be just a little bit about you. Don't let it go to your head."
I looked around. There was a lot to look at. There was a stage, of course, and a pole, with a girl dancing. She was dressed, I was assuming, as either a naughty nurse or a naughty bride, we had missed the beginning of her act so I didn't see what she had taken off. She was pretty in an ordinary way, under the glam, but her breasts were way too big and way too obviously fake for my taste.
There was a "DJ" in the corner, playing the music, introducing the dancers, I guess. Colored lights flashed around the stage. There were bouncers and security guys walking around, making sure everyone behaved.
I had just started to look around at the girls working the floor when one sat down at our table.
"Y'all are a cute couple, this your first time here?" She was very pretty, with long blonde hair past her shoulders. She had blue eyes, dimples and dazzling white teeth. Not-surprisingly, she was dressed as the slutty cheerleader. Really, is there any other kind? I was staring at her, kind of mesmerized, but she only had eyes for him.
"No." He simply stated.
"Well, then!" She chirped. "Y'all know how it works for a double? You look like you're ready for a lap dance." She was perky as all get-out.
He looked at me, and I shook my head.
"You're not her type." He told her, dismissively.
She let the slightest of frowns crease her brow.
"Well, now, that's a shame. But am I YOUR type?" She leaned suggestively toward him, giving him her best come-on eyes.
"If you're not her type, then you are definitely not my type."
"Oh really?" She flirted. "I see who's in charge here!"
I almost choked on the sip of cola I was swallowing.
He just smiled cooly at her.
"You don't, actually."
She was obviously taken aback at the the affect she wasn't having on him. I almost felt a little badly for her.
"Well, I bet I can be your type, you're real cute." This was directed at me. "Have you ever had a lap dance before?"
I didn't know what to say. I just wanted her to leave, but I didn't want to be rude. His hand was still on my thigh, a little higher now, and he suddenly drummed his fingers on my leg, the universal sign of boredom. I couldn't help but let out a little laugh. She took it for bashfulness.
"Aww, so it is your first time! I'll take real good care of you. I like you. You'll like me too if you give me a chance."
I stalled by taking another sip of my Coke.
He saved me having to answer by answering her himself.
"So, I'm supposed to pay you to dance for us on the chance that my beautiful companion here doesn't actually know what kind of girl she likes?"
I could actually feel her deflate. She was rendered totally speechless. He has that effect on people. I love watching him talk to people. He could be utterly, devastatingly charming, or he could stare a person down with a directness and intensity that seared right to the bone. In short, it turned me on, just watching him. His dark eyes stared at her waiting for her to fill the silence. I slid a little lower in my seat so that his hand would slide further up my thigh.
It took her longer than I expected to respond. I could see the wheels turning in her head. I bet no one had ever talked to her like this before. I bet the worse she got was a friendly, "no thanks, not right now."
She perked back up and plastered her smile back on.
"Well, I'll tell you what." She was looking only at me now. She didn't want to make eye contact with him anymore. "Since it's y'all's first time, I'll give you a special deal. That's how much I'm sure you'll like me. Two for one, and the first song is free. Now, what do you say to that?"
Priceless. Now the girl whose goal it is to make as much money off of us as possible was offering her services for free. I couldn't help but smile at her. She sat up straighter and pointed her perky breasts at me and gave them a little shake.
He looked at me again to see if I'd changed my mind. But he knew. I rolled my eyes at him, just a little.
"I'd say we're still looking."
I couldn't bear to see the look on her face, especially since she didn't immediately get up from the table and walk away in a huff. A new girl had started to dance on stage, so I looked at her instead. She caught my attention. She was tall, vaguely ethnic, and dressed like a slutty biker girl. She had dark wavy hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a dusky complexion. She wasn't too skinny, she was more athletic-looking. Her breasts were small, definitely real. And there was something about her attitude. She wasn't paying that much attention to the patrons, she seemed a little bored, like she was dancing in her bedroom by herself. And she was dancing to Motley Cru.
I looked at him and pointed at the stage.
"I want her."
Part Two -- Jade
Our perky blonde companion whirled around in her seat to see who I was pointing at.
She gave me as sour look. "Her? Honey, she's a headliner, she doesn't work the floor anymore."
He was watching the stage now, too.
"Tell her we want her to give us a private dance."
The perky cheerleader had finally had enough. She stood up and crossed her arms over her firm breasts.
"I'm not your message service."
"Just tell her. Please." He flashed her a genuine smile that totally disarmed her.
"Um ... sure, yeah, ok. I'm um ... going that way anyway."
She disappeared into the crowd.
He leaned in towards me and slid his hand all the way up my leg until his little finger was resting against my wet pussy. The strobing lights reflected in his dark eyes. The music was loud so he leaned in close.
"Are you having a good time, Little One?"
There was a warmth spreading up from between my legs, to my belly, to my breasts. My nipples tightened into hard little nubs.
I felt the flush spread to my face as I looked into his dark eyes.
"Yes. Do you think she'll dance for us?"
"Probably. I just want her to dance for you." He shifted his chair so that he could press more of his hand against my throbbing cunt. It was just like the bathroom in Starbucks. I started to squirm, just a little. I started breathing more quickly.
"But I want her to dance for you, too. I want to watch." And I really did. I thought it would be crazy exciting to watch a hot chick give him a private dance. Especially that girl. It would be almost like watching him fuck someone else, which I would not want to do. But I'm a little bit of a voyeur, and this seemed like an acceptable way to live that fantasy.
He pressed his hand even more firmly between my legs. I gasped and moaned, just a little.
"Well, let's see. Can you be good? Can you behave?"
I nodded my head yes.
"Yes, Master." I breathed. I used to have trouble calling him that. Now I only had trouble if I was too aroused to think coherently.
"Then I want you to be very, very still."
He suddenly, roughly pushed two fingers deep inside me. Fuck! I wasn't expecting that. God I was so wet they slipped easily all the way in. I felt myself uncontrollably clench down on his hand. I almost orgasmed right then. I gripped the edge of the table with both hands and let out a gasp of air. My vision was starting to blur a little when he said,
"Look at me."
I looked into his eyes again. He was smiling. He watched my face intently as he pulled his fingers all the way out of me again. No! My instinct was to follow his hand with my hips, but I stayed still. Every muscle was tense, and I tried to focus on the sensation of the edge of the table pressing into the palms of my sweaty hands. I felt like I could break it in half! He pushed his fingers in again, just as quickly, just as roughly. It took everything I had not to push back against his hand. I started panting. I hoped that was ok, because I wasn't going to be able to stop. I don't know what expression I was making, but it was definitely amusing him. I fleetingly wondered if anyone could see us, was watching us, but I didn't care. I just didn't want him to take his hand away. But he knew that. So he did.
"Taste." He said, and offered his fingers to me. I could see the wetness on them. My wetness. I took his hand in both of mine and slowly put his fingers into my mouth. I tasted the salty, muskiness of myself, and couldn't help moaning a little around his fingers. I sucked them for a moment, my eyes never leaving his.
"Um, am I interrupting something?"
We both slowly looked over to see the dancer, the slutty biker girl, standing at our table, arms crossed, hips cocked. She was shorter in person than she looked onstage, but actually prettier, more exotic looking. I had no idea what to say to her. I felt kind of intimidated by her, she exuded a kind of sexual confidence. Not at all like our blonde perky friend.
He was nonplussed, of course.
"She wants you to dance for us. Will you?" He asked, nodding his head towards me.
"And what do you want?" She raised her voice to be heard over the music. "You seem to be the one calling the shots."
Hunh. She was a perceptive one, wasn't she.
"I want you to focus on the girl, here. Not on me."
I saw her blink a couple of times, but she didn't change her posture. Then she put her palms on the table, leaned in and looked at me. I could see down her shirt to her small, pretty breasts.
"You picked me? Why?" She paused and looked away. Sighed. "I don't really do private dances anymore."
My mind raced. What could I say to convince her to dance for us?
I said the first thing that came into my mind.
"You weren't faking it. You danced like you liked dancing, but you weren't trying to make anyone like you."
"Um ... and you looked kind of bored."
She laughed at that, though I could tell she didn't mean to. She looked at us, considering, a frown on her delicate face.
"Hell, why not. I am bored. And you guys are kinda hot. Especially you." This was directed at him, of course. "And you're pretty cute, too." She gave me a real smile. Cute? Again?
She cocked her finger at us. "Follow me."
Part Three -- The Dance
We got up from the table and he grabbed my hand. He looked at me and laughed at what must have been my expression of pure excitement. He raised his eyebrows at me and we followed her to the back of the club where they had booths for private dances.
The booths were high-backed red leather. They were high enough to afford some privacy, but not so private that the bouncers/security couldn't still keep an eye on things. There was plenty of room for three.
The two of us sat down and Miss Slutty Biker introduced herself. She almost had to shout over the music back here, it was so loud.
"Ok, my name is Jade (of course it was!). I'm assuming you know the drill?" She asked him. He nodded.
"No touching me with your hands or any other part of your body, or the dance is over. You pay per song. Yeah?" He nodded.
She looked at me and smiled, "That goes for you, too, girlie." But then she winked at me. My head skipped a beat. What was that about? I felt my face flush and I nodded.
"So, who goes first?"
My heart was pounding in my chest. This was it! This was really happening! I felt almost dizzy with excitement. Even if I couldn't get her to touch me, it was totally worth it. He looked at me.
"You decide, Little One, this is for you."
Six months ago I would have been self-conscious about him calling me that in front of other people. But now I liked it. It made me feel special.
I knew exactly what I wanted.
"I want you to go first. I want to watch." I told him. I looked at Jade. "Him first, please."
She smiled at me in a way I couldn't decipher. Like we shared some secret. It made me even more tingly, her smiling at me like that.
A new song started, and she started to dance. She was really hot. Black hair, a slightly asian cast to her features. She had full lips painted with a shiny dark gloss. She was wearing super short leather shorts and tall motorcycle boots. A cropped black and red striped tank top ripped in deep V in front barely covered her just-right breasts. She had on fingerless gloves up to her elbows. She wore a leather choker with tiny silver studs on it. Her eye were so dark they looked black.
When she danced for him, she looked right in his eyes, and he stared back. I was sitting as close to him as possible while still giving her room to do her thing. She started right in front of him, moving to the music, touching herself a little, her breasts, her legs. She turned around and did some moves that gave us a good look at her well-formed ass. Turning back, she got closer and closer, until she was finally dancing "on" him, his lap, holding his shoulders, putting her breasts right in his face. She straddled him and pumped her hips to the music, rubbing herself on him, on his crotch. I watched him, to see if he was responding to her at all. He seemed totally relaxed. He looked like he was enjoying himself, but he didn't look that into it. I smiled inwardly. He had told me before that that he never got aroused in these places. That's what had started this whole thing. He had theorized that if he watched me get a lap dance, it might actually turn him on.
Jade seemed to be bringing out her best tricks, and was getting little or no response from him. I think she rarely saw men like him in this place. I think she really wanted him to react to her. She started doing things that I think dancers don't usually do. She came very close to kissing him, her lips almost touching his, she whispered something in his ear, and he shook his head "no." She pressed her body fully against his, wrapped her arms around his neck, and ground her crotch into his. He remained totally relaxed, playing by the rules. He had a smirk on his face. She was getting frustrated and he was enjoying it.
So was I. He may not have been turned on by her show. But I was. I would not have liked watching him fuck another woman. But this was something else. This was hot. I couldn't tear my eyes away. She was starting to sweat, just a little, with her efforts. He legs were strong and shapely. I watched her mash her breasts against his chest and wondered if he could feel her erect nipples through his shirt. I wanted to reach out and stroke her arm. I wanted to put my hands on his legs, just behind her ass. I started to wonder what it would be like to be sitting between them, on his lap with my back to him but my front to her. I would lean back and clasp my arms behind his neck so I was stretched out, so she could rub herself against the whole length of me.
I felt wetness trickling between my legs. I wanted to reach down and press my hand there, but I didn't. Watching her all but fuck him here in this red leather booth made my cunt ache. My nipples were so hard, they hurt. I had to touch them. I reached up slowly and fingered my right nipple. He must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eye because he turned his head and looked at me. He saw my fingers stroking ... pinching. He saw the look of lust and longing that I'm sure was bare on my face and it made him smile. He reached out his hand and slid it up my leg, all the way to my dripping wet cunt. He didn't push his fingers in like before, but he did explore my wetness, circling, teasing. I moaned louder than I meant to. I grabbed his upper arm to keep myself upright in the booth. I just wanted to slide down, spread my legs and offer myself up to him. But, oh, yeah, he still had a stripper on his lap. He pulled his hand back just as the second song ended.