Esther and Star Ch. 01

The best was her core. From her belly button to the top of her thighs, on both sides, was a fucking wet dream. The slopes and curves were smooth and compact. Fuck, her ass! I cursed and felt my mouth water when I saw it. Then, she turned around and those tiny panties accentuated that perfect nothing between her legs. This was a body built for fucking cock.

And she was a lesbian. I slowly shook my head in disbelief.

What made everything all the more insane was the fact that Star was exceptionally graceful. All the other dancers had skills, faces, and bodies, but Star up there, man, she had an athlete's strength and a ballet dancer's lightness. She was an academy award winner; the other's had been high school musical hacks. Weird, I know, saying this, but it wasn't just sexy, her dance. It was beautiful. The way she moved, it was artistic.

She took off her panties, and I drained my drink. I guess I ordered another one; I don't remember. It came to me, and I must have paid while I leered at my sister's perfect little pussy—and it was little. But, Star's was clean-shaven, as if there never in her life had been a single hair there.

Soon, she was laying on her tummy, legs spread toward the crowd, and both hands were under her, one held her pussy wide open, the other rubbed on her clit in little circles. Then, she slowly lifted her ass off the floor and, arching her back, pointed that perfect butt to the vaulted ceiling. She pulled her ass apart, airing out her little asshole, and gyrated her hips in circles.

Every fucker in the place was dreaming, as I was, of fucking her.

When her show ended, I walked over to the ATM and withdrew $400. It would hurt, but it wouldn't break us. I had, after all, just gotten paid.

I watched Star—Stella—walk up to the loft, organizing all the bills she had been handed during the course of her show. It was a fistful. It was a shit load.

I signaled to a bouncer and told him I wanted to go up. He escorted me to the top, and I paid $100 to get in. I asked to be seated in a corner table. They put me in a corner love seat with a small table in front.

Another gorgeous server—this one with miles of cleavage—came up to me, and I ordered my champagne. Hey, Esther, I thought, I'm going to be drinking wine, just like you asked. Champagne's made of grapes, right?

They brought it, and I paid $220 with the tip.

This was risky. I knew it. But, I couldn't stop myself. I had to see more of Star. I was addicted to the sight of her body, the way it moved.

Before this night, I'd known my sister was hot. I'd known it as her brother, though, which is different. It annoyed me; it didn't turn me on. I knew she had a nice body, but I didn't even care about it. Knowing my sister was hot was like knowing it was going to be a beautiful day in China—great...who cares? I ain't in China.

Now, I saw things differently.

I took a sip of the champagne and began to lament all of the opportunities I had missed as a younger man to sneak peeks at my sister. I wished I could go back in time.

More people came up behind me, and soon, the place was jam-packed. I scooted over for some asshole in a cowboy hat who laid a fan of fifties on the table in front of him.

Star saw it, caught the guy's eye, and he waved her over. Oh, fuck.

A bouncer followed Star. Cowboy Hat asked for a lap dance.

"Remember, no touching," Star told him, grinning. He handed her two fifties. She passed them to the bouncer and went to work.

She was topless, still, but her panties were back on. Star played her role well, asking his name, talking to him about his big cock—all the while grinding her body on his. She squashed her tits in his face. She put her feet on his shoulders, her hands on the table, and gave him an in-your-face pussy show. She rubbed her ass on every part of the guy. He gave her two fifties during and another one when she finished. She smiled, kissed him full on the lips, and moved on to the next customer.

When I put aside my jealousy over that kiss, I noticed that I had drunk about a third of the bottle during Star's show.

Cowboy Hat turned to me. "Sweet whores of Hell, that Stella is sexy! Don'tcha think, buddy? Don'tcha?"

I nodded.

He slugged down his own champagne, and I—not wanting to get too drunk—refilled his with my bottle.

"Hey! You're alright. Thanks, buddy!" He held his glass up and waited. I took mine and raised it. He roared, "To Stella's tits! They give me fits!"

He guffawed, and we drank. Before I set my glass down, he shook my sleeve and gestured for me to raise mine again.

He waited for me.

I said, "Uh, to Stella's ass—the best in class."

He laughed so hard that I started laughing. We drank.

I refilled our glasses. He raised his again, so I did, too.

He roared, "To Stella's cunny! Sweeter than honey, and it don't smell funny!"

He fucking lost it, slapping his knees and leaning into me. I drank, chuckling a little.

When he regained control, he asked, "You ever get a lap dance from her?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, hell, you gotta."

I raised my hand and rubbed my thumb against my fingers, shaking my head.

"No, no, no. Hell with that. You're getting one, buddy. I wanna watch," he grunted. "Hey, Stella!"

He was holding up two more fifties in the air. Star saw it, smiled, and walked over. Oh, shit. I tilted my hat lower and took a drink.

Not watching, I heard him yell, "Stella, this is for my buddy here. He said your ass was the best in the class." He guffawed. I heard Star giggle.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Was anything I wore a dead giveaway? I scanned my clothes. My arms? Would she recognize me? Oh, shit.

"What's your name, big boy?"

Would my voice give me away? I needed to respond, like, now. I made up a name, but totally fucking blew it. I was planning on saying "Hank," but at the last second decided on "Patrick." I said, "Hatrick." Fuck me.

Cowboy Hat spun toward me, "Your name is Hatrick, buddy?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Hatrick."

"I like it," Star cooed, "it's really unique." Star walked over and straddled my legs. "No touching, okay, Hatrick?"

I nodded. Hatrick. What a shit-for-brains.

Then, Cowboy Hat yelled, "Take off your Hatrick, Hatrick!" He swiped it off my head, and Star and I were looking at each other.

I was fucked. I saw her eyes take in my face. Recognition.

Fuck. Fucking mother fuck.

I sighed and stared at her. Her eyes went wide, and for a fraction of a second, there was fear.

I tried to give her a look that said, "Sorry?"

She glanced down at the ludicrous fake mustache and then back into my eyes. Star's eyebrows pinched together and rose up a little. Her lips quivered. She was about to start laughing.

I was going to laugh, too. I pressed my lips together and drew them sideways, tilting my head the same direction just a fraction.

Hatrick. Ridiculous.

Star scooted forward in my lap, turned toward Cowboy Hat, and said, "Ooh, I think Hatrick's got a big dick."

I was hard. Really hard. Had been for at least an hour. I was wearing jeans, so everything was all crowded, forced sideways, and squashed down there in my pants. But, despite her words, Star's crotch was nowhere near my cock. It was one of those things that strippers just said.

Suddenly, she stood up, backed away, pushed my knees apart, and knelt between them. She shoved me against the back of the couch and told Cowboy Hat that she needed to suck my cock.

She said, "I bet all kinds of girls have sucked on this cock." Then, she looked up at me with a smirk and winked.

You fucking little bitch, I thought.

Her head dove into my crotch.

There was no physical contact. It was all an act, but a good one. Her head bobbed and twisted, rose and fell. After a few seconds, she rose off me and slurped, wiping a line of drool from her lips and looking right at Cowboy Hat.

He handed her a fifty. She took it, blew him a slow, sensual kiss, and handed it to the bouncer. Then, she went back to work.

It was so stupid, really. Star was using me to get this idiot beside me to keep forking over the cash. She knew she could go a little bit further than usual because, hey, I was her brother.

That sounds fucked up, I guess, but I think it makes sense. I wasn't a danger to her is what I mean.

Cowboy Hat backhanded my shoulder and said, "She's something, eh, buddy?"

Payback time. "I've had better," I said.

Star stopped, looked up at me, and laid her left forearm across my lap. She turned to my neighbor and said, "Hatrick doesn't even know what a good blowjob feels like."

Cowboy Hat took one of her meanings; I took the other. Oh, Star, you fucking cunt. I am going to...

I didn't see her other arm slip between my legs. Nobody did, but my balls and the base of my cock were suddenly and painfully in her grip.

I turned to Cowboy Hat and said, urgently, "Just kidding, man. She's the best. Really. The best ever."

He nodded, smiling. "Oh, yeah, Hat-man!"

I felt Star's fingers relax, and then I felt something else.

Star began talking to Cowboy Hat, making him smile and laugh, but her fingers started—I don't know—checking me out, I guess. They gently gripped and released my balls, then the lower end of my cock, then further up the shaft, and finally her fingers slid over the tip. Then I felt her index and middle fingers, pressed together, start at the base and slowly glide along the entire shaft, like she was verifying what she'd just felt.

I gulped and stared down at her, but she was still talking to Cowboy Hat. Her hand slid away from between my legs and Star removed her forearm from across my lap. She looked up at me, eyes intent, mouth hanging open.

She grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. It was a show of ferocious horniness for Cowboy Hat. She pretended like she was sucking my neck. What she actually did was ask two questions in my ear.

"Is what's in those jeans a part of your idiotic disguise?" She pushed me back.

I shook my head.

She pulled me back to her. "Holy shit, brother mine," she said, "Me—your sister—I gave you that big fucking hard-on?" She pushed me away, watching my eyes.

I shrugged and nodded.

She stood up and pushed my legs together. Star sat on my lap, straddling me, and then she put her hands behind her, on my knees. She pushed herself up and put her feet on my shoulders. Turning to Cowboy Hat, she said, "I need my little pussy licked."

She thrust her crotch towards my face, and I watched Star's barely-covered pussy come at me, stopping short of my nose by fractions of an inch. She tilted her head back and began moaning at the ceiling. Her hips rolled in little circles, and I could smell her body. Sticking my tongue out less than an inch, I could have felt her pussy on the tip. But, I remained still.

Cowboy Hat liked the show. Star saw him, smiled, and said, "I like the feel of money on my tits."

So, the guy grabbed another one of his fifties, stood up and dragged the bill over Star's tits, which, even though Star's chest was almost horizontal, those tits were completely unfazed by gravity. They stuck up like two fat rockets.

He didn't touch her—only the bill did—and the bouncer was watching very, very closely. Star turned to Cowboy Hat and cooed, "I bet it would feel even better on my pussy." Then, Star tilted her head at me and said, "Can you slip my panties down, Hatrick? Just a little?"

I reach over the top of her legs, grabbed the tiny straps of her panties, and pulled them towards my face. The bouncer inched closer.

Before my view was blocked by a fifty dollar bill, my sister's bare pussy was three inches from my mouth. I smelled it, and my heart raced.

Suddenly, the back of Cowboy Hat's fucking hand was in my face, dragging that bill around my sister's crotch. I was annoyed.

"Leave it there, baby," she told him, and then she said, "Put my panties back, Hatrick." I drew her panties back over her pussy, trapping the bill between her panties and her skin. Then Star lifted her crotch up above my head for a moment, and her ass was right there before my eyes. When she came back down, the bill was gone. Bouncer swiped it, I guess.

She climbed off me and turned around, presenting her ass to me. She rolled it in circles a few inches from my face, and then looked at Cowboy Hat and said, "Some guys have told me that my asshole is too tiny and tight to fuck. Would you boys take a look and tell me what you think?"

Cowboy Hat sprang forward and grabbed another fifty. Star took it, handed it to the bouncer, and then dropped her panties in from of me. She reached back and pulled her ass apart, holding those tiny panties with one hand, arching her back, and leaning back towards my face.

I'm no connoisseur of women's assholes. I was much more interested in Star's pussy, but I liked what I saw.

She rose and turned around. "Well?"

I wanted to look annoyed by her, but my heart wasn't in it. I said, "It's perfect."

"Why, thank you, Hatrick!" she responded, adding a girlish giggle. She stepped over to Cowboy Hat and repeated the act.

I enjoyed the profile view of Star's legs, ass, and tits. When my eyes reached her head, I found her looking back at me. My face had to have been filled with burning desire. She smiled and then turned back to Cowboy Hat.

"What do you think, baby?" she asked him.

He licked his lips and responded, "Tight and tiny and teee-riffic!" He burst out in laughter, smacking my shoulder.

Star thanked him, kissed him, and walked away.

I poured the remains of my bottle in Cowboy Hat's glass, thanked him, grabbed my hat, and told him I was off to the bathroom.

He laughed, "Don't clog the drain with cum, Hat-man!"

I pissed and walked out of Centerfolds, not even looking at the new dancer on the main stage.

***

It was after midnight when I walked into our apartment. I was drunk, but not hammered. I went to the bathroom, used our alcohol-free mouthwash, and made sure I didn't smell like hell.

Esther was asleep.

Not for long, I hoped.

We hadn't fucked since before we moved to Boston. I was horny as hell from Star's show. I stripped naked and slid into bed.

Her back was to me, and I was already half hard. I scooted up against her, nuzzled through her hair into her neck and kissed her there, whispering, "Esther, will you let me? Can I put it in you?"

She stirred awake and rolled towards me. She said, "I've been so wrong, sweets. So wrong. It's like, my whole life has been a waste."

"What are you talking about, Ess?"

"I finished the book—your book you got me. And I can't believe it. I mean—I do...I do believe it. The Watchtower, the Elders, the Church, the whole thing. Good people. Beautiful people. My family! All of them slaves to the Church. None of them free. Faith should set you free, sweets, but the Watchtower enslaves people. God gave us free will and my whole life I've been giving it up the Them."

"You mean you're done with your Church? You don't want to be a Witness any more?"

"Never again. No."

"Esther, I'm sorry. I...I didn't know. I never should have gotten you..."

"Sweets, no! I'm glad you got me the book, don't you see?" she urged.

"You're okay?" I asked.

"I'm definitely not okay, but I might be starting to go there."

"Well...good, I guess."

She smiled, and she was so beautiful. I kissed her and reached up for her breasts.

She stiffened and pushed me away.

"Esther, what?"

"Not now. Not tonight."

"Please, Ess. I need you. Feel me." I reached for her hand, but she drew it away. "Hey!" I argued.

She looked angry when she spoke. This was like seeing Bigfoot, seeing Esther pissed. She said, "I'm starting a new life tonight. I'm not some toy for your penis anymore."

"What?!"

"That's what I've been, Sweets. That's the old me. That's the slave that I was. No more."

"What do you mean 'no more?'" I asked. "No more sex?"

"I don't know. But, not tonight. Not now."

"Ess, I love you. You can't...I'm your freaking husband..."

"...and I was your servant. Never your equal. I laid there and you...you buried that thing in my body over and over again, and I just took it, and you hurt me, and I never liked it."

I was floored. Without a word, I sat up and climbed out of bed. I snatched shorts from our dresser, hoisted them on, and strode out of the room.

I paced the kitchen, storming. I hurt her? I fucking hurt her?! Why the fuck didn't she ever tell me I hurt her?

And she never liked it? That was like saying she never liked me. Not liking my cock was like not liking the very essence of who I was.

Didn't she have orgasms? I thought she did. Was she faking it?

Why did I fucking marry her? What the fuck had I been thinking? Stupid fucking cunt.

I laid on the couch, a part of me shocked and guilt-ridden that I might have hurt her, another part of me thundering and raging, dreaming of going back in that room and impaling her with my dick.

I was never going to sleep.

But, somehow, I had. I woke up when the apartment door opened and Star came in. It was nearing 2:00am.

She threw her stuff on the kitchen counter and said, "Waiting up for me, Hatrick? Nice fucking name, by the way."

"No, and fuck off, Star. I don't want to talk about it."

She grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the lazy boy, curling her feet under her ass. She popped the top, took a long pull, and then farted. "What are you doing on the couch, then?" She burped.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you in a fight with Esther?" Then, Star gasped and said, "She found out where you were tonight!" She said it, sounding almost excited.

"No and no...well, yes and no."

"Yes to which one?"

"The fight. But, it's not a fight; it's an argument," I said.

Star nodded and took another drink. "I like Esther. You need to be nice to her."

"Star can we please not..."

She spoke over me. "You need to just let her win any argument that you have. That's what I would do."

"Thanks for the marital advice from a stripper," I mumbled.

Her beer can hit me on my nose, hard. Then it rolled over my chest, spilling ice-cold beer over my belly. I grunted, "Ow!" and seized the can, lifting it upright and leaping off the couch.

Star laughed at me. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, wiping myself dry.

"Get me a fresh beer, Hatrick, you asshole."

I probably earned what I had gotten, so I grabbed her one and went back to the couch, blotting the few wet spots.

She cracked it and took a drink. "You know you deserved..."

"I deserved it," I finished. Then, I threw the towel on the floor and laid back down.

Star was across from me, and she looked clean. Not a shred of evidence of the night's work. She looked like she'd just come in from a night out with friends, except for the fact that she wore not a bit of make-up.

"Why did you come?" she finally asked.

I shrugged. "I had to know."

"What did you expect to see?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you were a server or a bartender, but I had to find out."

"You could have asked."

I shrugged.

"So, why didn't you leave when I came out on the dance floor?"

I sat up. "Look, Star, at first it was like I was angry—not so much at you, but at the guys screaming at you and leering and stuff. I felt protective. I was watching them more than I watched you. It...they offended me, I guess."

"And then?"

"Well, I didn't expect it to be full-on nudity, Star. I've never been to a place like that. I'd been to topless and pasty places. I didn't expect it."

She looked at me doubtfully. "But, surely you didn't show up right when I came out. You saw the dancers before me."

"Yeah, I did. Three of them."

She nodded. "So?"

"So, when I saw you—when I really looked at you—I didn't want to stop looking. There. That good enough?"