Monika Can't Resist Him

As always folks, some of this is truth, and some is embellished truth - you decide. And thank you for your comments on my other stories. FL

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Monika Braxwell reached up and smacked the $20 bill onto the dancer's ass. The crisp bill stayed put. The dancer's sweat acted like an adhesive to that and the other couple of dozen bills that clung to his 6-foot 2-inch frame.

The bills were a contrast to his chocolate skin, and he knew it worked well with his dance finale, which was coming. One more song or two and he give the ladies what they all came to see.

"Moni when's he gonna do it!" Yolanda Jefferies asked Monika, barely able to scream over the horde of women in the club. "When? I want to see him do it."

"Damn, Yolo, give the man a chance," Monika replied, laughing. "He's going to do it. He always does it. Always. It's his signature. He has to do it."

Quynton caught the two women out of the corner of his eyes. He looked at several more women, too. They were all waiting for the finale.

Then Quynton spied a woman across the stage who had to be in her late 50s, maybe even 60s. The woman was yelling at a friend while holding her own hands about a foot apart.

Quynton got on all fours and prowled to the two. He got off the stage and sat in the lap of the woman doing the talking – facing her. She was paralyzed, mouth open as if to scream, but no sound came out. She couldn't believe he was right there on her lap.

His glistening chest bobbed up and down no more than 10 inches from her face. She took the bills off his chest and threw them toward the stage. She wanted to see his skin.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" yelled the woman's friend.

Quynton's chest and stomach were finally bare. He took pride in his 36-year-old body, working out like a man possessed sometimes. He carried less than 7% body fat with his 225 pounds. He knew he looked younger than all the guys working at the club, and he reveled in that. The ladies liked it, too, and they paid him well for it. The older woman ran her fingers over Quynton's chest, down his rippled abs and back up. She reached around to his butt and squeezed it.

Quynton took her hands in his and stood. First he put her hands on his thighs, then his waist and to his lower back. Less than foot separated Quynton's bulge from the woman's face. He moved his pelvis closer and closer, and simultaneously he started to vibrate his legs, actually, he shook them – his feet remaining still – back and forth. Only he did it so fast, it gave the illusion he was a human vibrator.

Women close to the stage were jealous. They wanted to be her. Women in the back clamored to get a closer look.

Quynton grasped the woman by the back of her head, eased his crotch into her face and vibrated even more.

The woman rubbed the back of Quynton's thighs and his butt. She brought her arms around, trying to touch his chest. She brought her hands down his body to his thighs and started toward his crotch.

Just as the woman's hands got a good grasp of Quynton's dick, Quynton looked toward the DJ booth and winked.

The music stopped, and out of the speakers blared, "I don't see nuthin' wrong! ... With a little bump and grind!"

That was Quynton's song, the remix of R. Kelly's "Bump and Grind."

He quickly left the woman sitting there sweating, flustered, holding out her hands and staring at an imaginary dick. Her friend soon hugged her and they both laughed and started cheering with the rest of the women.

"Ladies, this is what you're here for," the DJ said. "So dig in deep and get 'em ready. Now sing it with me ladies. 'I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little...'"

And all the women simultaneously yelled, "Dick Money!"

"No, I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little ..."

"Dick Money!"

"Moni, he's doing it! He's doing it!" Yolanda screamed.

Monika just laughed and watched Quynton's gyrations. She had seen his show a thousand times. She followed him from Phoenix to South Beach and now San Diego.

Quynton was just stopping though Phoenix a few years back, thinking he could pick up a few bucks before meeting up with buddies in South Beach where they would make big money.

The two met after one of his shows. It was at a club where the ladies went early for a male review. After the show, the doors opened for the men. Quynton had always thought the men should pay him, too. After all, he'd already done the work for them. They just had to take the women home and let nature pleasure them.

After seeing him mingling in the club, Monika took a couple shots of courage and asked Quynton to dance. The two danced the entire night and ended up at Monika's apartment. (That's another story folks.)

Quynton asked Monika to go to Florida, and with nothing holding her to Phoenix, she accepted. The two dated the two years they were in South Beach and for a couple of months in San Diego.

They were longer dating that night at the club, Monika was married now, had been for four of her five years in San Diego. But she just couldn't help slipping out once in a while to watch Quynton dance. Monika was glad he finally decided to settle in San Diego – just more opportunity to see him move. So, every time she gets a chance, Monika convinces a different girlfriend to go to this out-of-the-way strip club.

"Yeah baby!" Yolanda yelled. "Do it! Do it! I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little Dick Money!"

Monika smiled that knowing smile because she knew what was concealed behind the skimpy material holding Quynton's dick.

"If you women only knew," she thought, then joined in with the singing.

"All right ladies," the DJ said. "You know what's next. Who wants it? Who wants to get up on stage with Big Q? He needs a couple of volunteers. Who wants it?"

Quynton spread his legs wide and let his body descend to the floor in the splits. He leaned forward and pulled himself across the stage. He rolled over several times, money clinging to his body as he rolled.

Quynton made eye contact with several women who hoped they were the ones he'd choose. He kept rolling, picking up more and more money. Finally he stopped. His eyes focusing in on a familiar face.

"What are you doing here?" Quynton yelled to Monika.

"Hey, I'm grown," Monika said. "I can go where I please."

"I might have to have you arrested for stalking me."

"Me stalking you? Yeah right!"

"Oh you know you still love me!"

"No, I just love things about you," she replied and looked straight at his crotch.

Quynton smiled at her, stood and reached out for her hand. Monika shook her head. Then the crowd got onto her, booing her.

Peer pressure made her climb on to the stage and sit in one of the two chairs. The rock on Monika's left ring finger didn't slip by Quynton. But what did he care. Just another married women letting loose.

Monika knew what was coming. So she waited while Quynton found another woman.

He walked back toward the older woman. Her face grew excited, but Quynton stuck out his hand for her friend. The older woman looked mad for a moment. But then started cheering for her friend.

Quynton pulled the younger woman on stage and sat her in a chair with its back to Monika. Quynton then blindfolded both women and grabbed a large sheer, satin white sheet.

"All right ladies!" the DJ started. "You know what it takes!"

Just then gobs of 1s, 5s, 10s and even few 20s started flooding the stage. Quynton pulled two more women on stage who gathered as much money as they could and gave it to the two seated women.

As a reward for their help, Quynton wrapped the sheet around both women so that their heads were the only things showing, and he began a slow dance with the both of them. Quynton spread his legs and descended into a position as if he were riding a horse.

Each woman straddled a leg. Quynton started moving up and down as they rubbed his chest, abs, butt and crotch.

This is the part where Quynton allowed his body to run wild. He didn't mind getting a hard on. Where he would move away from women at other times, Quynton encouraged the touching during his final dance.

"I won't stop until I hear the ohh ahh sound," came R. Kelly's voice over the speakers. "Don't front, you know, about the rodeo show."

The women on Quynton's legs held their hands high, stretching out the loose fabric, as if they were riding a slow bucking bronco.

The pressure Quynton's dick put against its confining fabric was getting uncomfortable. Quynton didn't have an especially long dick, maybe eight inches on a good day. but it was incredibly thick.

"OK, ladies!" he yelled at the women riding his legs. "Take it off!"

Just then, the two women ducked under the sheet and began taking off Quynton's g-string. Bright light shined on the trio making three shadows out of the forms inside the sheet. The women made quick worked of the Quynton's flimsy material, releasing his dick. They both grabbed it, stared at it, marveling at its girth. They wanted to taste it, but knew it was against the rules. They knew he'd stop the performance if they got so much as a lip on his dick.

Yet, Quynton teased them slowly rotating his hips.

"Get out!" came a scream from the audience. "Get out! Now! Get out!"

Quynton smiled.

The two women looked at each other, and didn't want to let go. But soon they felt hands on their waist and legs. Women from the audience had climbed on stage and began pulling the two away from Quynton.

"Get 'em off the stage!" came a yell from the crowd. "Off the stage! Off the stage!" The nearly rabid women yelled in unison.

Quynton pranced toward the seated women, rubbing the smooth sheet over their arms and across their face. Small shudders came from each woman's body. Nipples hardened from the sensations of sound and touch. He leaned over to each woman, telling her, "It has to be wet for them to stick. It has to be sloppy wet. Can you do that? Can you make it sloppy wet?"

The young woman meekly nodded her head. Monika gave sarcastic smirk.

"Is that a yes?" Quynton asked.

"What do you think?" Monika replied. "Haven't I made it wet before? Haven't I made it sloppy before? Haven't I made it glisten, shine and explode all its gooey sloppiness a thousand times before? Don't you think I know what I'm doing?"

"Then do it!" Quynton yelled and flung the sheet over both women while placing his body, naked under the sheet, in front of Monika.

The audience women started screaming incoherent yells of bacchanalian delight. They saw Quynton's shadowy form dancing over and around the two women. They saw his arms reach out and rub the women's bodies. They saw the women reach out and grab Quynton's legs, butt, arms, chest and especially the rigid phallus protruding from between his legs.

They wanted to grab Quynton. They wanted to be one of the two women sitting the chairs. They wanted the other women to yell for them. Still, they reveled in voyeuristic delight.

The young woman was nervous. She'd only seen Quynton's show once. She vaguely knew what she was supposed to do, but didn't know if it was actually real. Wasn't stuff such as that against the law? Did those women really suck Quynton's dick? Or was it an illusion? She wondered if she should do it. What would the other women think?

Quynton positioned his body just right and took off the young woman's blindfold. As her eyes adjusted, they focused on an incredibly thick and hard dick not more than six inches from her lips. She instinctively reached out and grabbed it again. It was different this time, touching it, that is. She could see what she was grabbing now. The added sense washed away any thoughts she had of not wrapping her lips around it.

Still she didn't her head forward.

"Suck! Suck! Suck!" came yells from the audience.

"It feels good doesn't it?" Monika yelled at the young woman. "Probably looks good, too! I know how you're feeling right now! Trust me, I do! Never thought you'd see a dick that looked so perfect did you! It's hard isn't it! You like its soft skin don't you! You're wondering why it looks so good and feels so good! You want to wrap your lips around it but you don't want to take your eyes off of it! Chica, I've been there! Let me tell you, it feels just as good in your mouth! And it feels even better in your – hey, you're probably feeling a little wet aren't you! Hahaha. Well, it feels great down there, too."

Monika's words startled the young woman, bringing her out of the mini trance. The young woman had to admit, her panties collected ample amounts of her offerings. She was turned on. The crowd of yelling women turned her on. Being under the sheet turned her on. Holding Quynton's dick, knowing she was going to suck it turned her on.

"Suck it! Suck it! Suck it!" came more yells.

All the audience could see was the shadow of a two women sitting in chairs and one woman, possibly holding Quynton's dick. Quynton's head stuck out of the top of the sheet. He would occasionally grind his hips. Once or twice he eased back, taking his dick from the young woman's hand. The pumped his hips back and forth making his dick "jump" up and down.

Quynton knew the audience women loved that, and he loved to hear them yell. Plus the young woman was being too hesitant.

"Don't be afraid!" somebody shrieked. "It won't hurt you!"

A gaggle of laughter ensued.

"So show me some I.D. before I get knee deep into you," R. Kelly blared. "... I got what you want. You got what I need."

Quynton knew he only had a few minutes remaining. Having seen the show so many times, Monika knew, too.

"Move over!" Monika said almost shoving the young woman out of the way. "You're taking too long."

Monika grabbed Quynton's dick firmly. Opened her mouth wide and impaled it on Quynton's dick. The audience saw the shadows movements and screamed. Monika kept taking more and more of Quynton's dick in her mouth.

"Go! Go!" a woman yelled. "Take it all!"

The audience started yelling, too.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Monika already knew she could take him all. It was a skill she acquired and mastered in South Beach. But she was as much of a show off as Quynton, so she prolonged the inevitable. And when her nose meshed with Quynton's pubic hair, the audience women went nuts.

The young woman stared, mesmerized.

"Yeah!" Quynton yelled. "That's my girl!"

Monika briefly removed Quynton from her mouth and turned toward the young woman.

"This is where you exit!" Monika said. "Honey, when you get something this good in your hands, you've got to act fast."

Monika stuck out her tongue and simultaneously ushered the woman out of the sheet. Monika knew the audience could see the shadow of her tongue flipping back and forth over Quynton's dickhead. And it turned her on to know she was doing what many women in that audience wanted to do at that moment.

Monika had always been brazen. But she took it to another level when she met Quynton. He matched, then exceeded Monika's daring.

Monika reminisced as she sucked.

There was the doggy style fuck, upstairs at Rumrunners in Key West. The people walking on Duval Street only saw a man and woman hugging. The people in the bar, wondered if they were really doing it. Hell, at Rumrunners that's a common occurrence anyway.

There was the beach behind the Ritz Carlton in Naples, Florida. Monika was sure an old couple or two from the neighboring condos got an eye full.

She straddled Quynton on the beach in South Beach while looking at a wet t-shirt contest at The Clevelander.

She entertained a 100 truckers, almost causing a couple of accidents on I-95 North on a road trip to D.C.

Her sucking intensified when she thought about D.C. and the sex on the National Mall at 2 a.m. Cars still whizzed by, and there was the occasional couple out for a stroll – or out to find their own special spot. But Monika was intoxicated by the thoughts that some FBI or CIA cameras were on them.

Quynton touched a part of her that she knew was there, but never trusted with anybody. She trusted Quynton, probably too much. Still, Monika didn't care. She had a blast while they dated.

Quynton's determined gyrations brought Monika back to reality. She knew it wouldn't be long.

"Do it! Do it!" the audience screamed.

And she did.

Quynton threw back his head and uttered a primal grunt. Semen boiled up his shaft and erupted into Monika's waiting hands and some into her mouth. Quickly as she could, Monika coated Quynton's shaft with the mixture of his semen and her saliva.

Two, three, four, five more thick ropes of his cum blasted forth, and Monika continued coating his shaft.

"We want dick money!" the women yelled in unison over and over.

Monika she started grabbing bills and wrapping them around Quynton's dick, sticking them to the semen. She stuck bills on his balls, on his thighs and anywhere she could detect flesh.

Feeling she was finished covering him, Monika wiped her mouth on the sheet as she stood.

Seeing this, Quynton pulled the sheet off his body and stood facing the audience with a still hard dick cover with various bills. He grabbed a black bag from the back of one of the chairs and started toward the crowd. The women grabbed more money from their purses and frantically waved the bills hoping Quynton would come their way.

It was exchange time. The women would drop a bill in the bag and pull a bill of Quynton's body. This was Quynton's dick money. The women slowly peeled the bills off Quynton, every one of them taking liberties with extra gropes and caresses.

Some got bold and tried to stroke Quynton. That usually started a few squabbles. But Quynton kept walking through the crowd. $20 for $20. $10 for $10.

Then a firm a quick smack against his ass turned Quynton to face the woman who was standing next to Monika earlier.

Yolanda held up two crisp $100 bills. She dropped the notes in Quynton's bag and began taking off the remainder of the bills. In a matter of moments, Quynton stood naked as the day he was born.

Women crowded closer and closer. Those in the back stood on tables trying to see what was happening. Yolanda, never taking her eyes off Quynton grasped his dick and began slowly stoking it. She moved closer to him, looking at him, asking for a kiss with her eyes.

Yolanda leaned over and kissed Quynton's navel. Then his stomach and his chest. She looked at his full lips and brought her face closer.

Suddenly, the music blared.

"SHAKE THAT ASS BITCH, AND LET ME SEE WHAT YOU GOT!!!"

And simultaneously the club went dark.

Several women screamed in surprise. But seconds later, the lights were back on and the yells turned to cheers for an encore.

Quynton was gone. Yolanda stood there with a mixture of anger on her face and unsatisfied lust in her loins.

"That's all right Yolo," Monika said, smiling and hugging her friend. "It's happened to a lot of us. There one second. You think you're going to feel his lips on yours. Then poof. Muthafucka is gone."

"Don't give me that shit!" Yolanda yelled. "I'm the single one here, not you. But you got to taste, didn't you? Didn't you? Damn girl, I hate you."

The two kept hugging a laughing.

"Moni, just tell me this," Yolanda said. "He was good wasn't he? I felt him. He was big, thick, too. It felt good in your mouth, didn't it?"

"Girl, I didn't do anything," Monika said. "You know those sheets and lights cast weird shadows and shit. He's all about illusions and shit. About making the audience think that something is going on."

Yolanda wasn't buying it.

"Girl please," Yolanda said, while reaching out to Monika's hair. "Sheets, lights, shadows my ass. If none of that was real, then you're probably not worried about this stuff in your hair, right?"

Monika's hand shot to her head, feeling her hair. Yolanda laughed, hard. So did a couple of eavesdroppers standing nearby.