Ideal Suburbia Ch. 02a

"As for me, I never go back to the rooms," she said, rotating to sit on my other thigh, facing my now as she rubbed her leg against my crotch. I raised an eyebrow at her assertion, and she said, "I've run the numbers and it doesn't make sense, at least not for me. Why have you give so many hundreds out of your budget to the club, when you could spend them on me?" She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck and leaned forward to talk directly into my ear. "In the right place out here, like the one we are cuddling in right now, we can get away with pretty much anything that I am prepared to do with a guy here at work anyway. More money for me, less expense for you. We both win." I murmured I'd be interested in just what she was prepared to do, and she laughed. "A new song is about to start, let's do a dance to feel each other up, I mean out, and we can discuss any negotiations you are interested in."

All I could say was, please.

Monique flowed out of my lap and slipped the spaghetti straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. She released them and the garment shimmered to the floor. She really was spectacular. Her bare shoulders were square and broad, which combined with her wide, smooth hips made her high, strong waist feel quite narrow. Her rich, delicious-looking breasts were large but not remotely cartoonish, and lifted quite firmly. I looked forward to confirming my suspicion that they were all natural. Her belly was smooth and just little rounded, with a deep, enticing belly button that was just the tiniest bit off-center. She raised her hands above her head and turned slowly so I could get a look at all of her. It was a supremely self-confident move. Her legs her well-fleshed but smooth and sculpted, and her large, beautiful, firm ass was framed by the yellow fabric of her thong.

Still facing away, she put her hands on my knees and slid back into my lap. She leaned back against me, grinding her ass against my now rock-hard cock. She grasped my hands and placed them slowly but firmly upon her delicious tits. I massaged them gently, lifting and pressing them together as she gyrated on my lap. I clasped the nipples between my thumbs and fingers and teased them oh so gently. And indeed, her breasts were completely natural. I groaned happily.

She kept up the gentle grind for a bit, then swept up and turned around. She straddled me, with her knees on the chair, and resumed pressing her crotch against mine. Monique wrapped her arms around my head, and surged upward to press my face in-between those luscious breasts. I wiggled my face back and forth against the warm, soft curves, and lightly kissed the walls of my face's prison.

She slid down my chest, dragging her breasts down my chest, then belly, until she kneeled between my legs. She rested her tits against my lap, with my bulge nestling between them. She looked up at me with a smile as I slid my hands to cup and caress the outer curves of her breasts, pressing them in against my cock. I matched her gaze and her smile, indicating my extreme approval of this maneuver.

Suddenly the DJ began yakking, and the song changed. I was ready to continue, but Monique rose and perched again on my lap, not bothering to cover herself. "I like you. You are so gentle," she told me. I looked at her quizzically, and she went on. "Lots of guys aren't. You are the kind of customer I like, because, well, that, and um, this," she added, stroking the bulge in my pants, exploring its length.

"So," she said, snuggling down against me, leaving her hand to massage my bulge gently, "since I'm saving you so much money on champagne room fees, how are you going to spend it on me?" We both laughed together.

When a new song began, she had no need to waste time with the disrobing part this time. She simply pressed forward to bury my face between her tits once more, only this time she started dragging them back and forth across my face. The first pass or two, her surprisingly erect nipples bumped quickly over my lips, but then she slowed, and I was able to plant a gentle kiss or two. On the third pass, she stopped, allowing me to take a nipple entirely between my lips. She ran her hands though my hair as I suckled greedily, but gently, since that appeared to be her preference.

Breathing deeply, almost a gasp, she bent her head to say to me, "I'm really letting you get this far in a lot fewer dances than most guys." Releasing her nipple from my mouth, I promised her that I'd make up her shortfall. Re-assured, she returned her breast to my mouth for more feeding. My hands grasped her firm ass and massaged happily. My grasp there was a bit firmer, simply because I could not help myself. A full song passed in various mutations of this activity. When the next began, Monique began to slide down my chest to kneel before me.

She looked up at me, fingers gently massaging my lap, and said, "you know, my personal rules may say my own bottoms don't come off, but they don't forbid your's..." Her idle massage suddenly became an intent exploration of my trouser fly, and in moments she discovered that I only occasionally wear underwear.

She looked up at me with a slightly surprised but very saucy expression. "I'm going to need room to maneuver," she murmured, as if to herself. She checked around to make sure our visual screening was definitely in place, and tugged downward on my pants. I lifted my ass to help and she pulled them down to my ankles. I had ditched my jacket back when we sat, and she shoved my shirt up to expose my belly. My cock was left fully bare, sticking up plaintively. She caressed it gently for a moment, and even leaned forward to rub it softly along the side of her face.

Then she lifted it to point straight upward and pressed it between her tits. She then shifted her hands to the outside of her breasts, leaving my cock held securely between them. "I seem to remember you really liked this kind of maneuver in our first dance," she asked slyly. "How do you like it now?"

"All I could ask for," I replied with a sigh. I stared down at those luscious mams encasing my dick as she began to rock up and down. It was an agonizingly hot sight. Her warm, smooth, firm flesh flowed along the shaft ever so sweetly.

I found myself reacting far too fast, and sought to cool my response. I wanted this to last. Leaning back in the chair, I reached for my cocktail. My hand shook lightly as I first rose it to my lips, but I steadied myself and took a sip.

"Well," observed Monique, as she continued her gentle ministrations, "aren't you all casual?"

"I'm just living the dream here," I replied archly, but in all seriousness. I continued to recline in regal manner and took another sip before putting my drink down.

"I think I'm thirsty too," mused Monique. "Here," she said, taking my hands and placing them on her breasts to keep my cock trapped so she could reach for her scotch and soda. She took several small sips and one big gulp, all the while looking up into my eyes and sliding her body up and down along my penis.

I took the opportunity to massage those tits, marveling at their perfection in my grasp, but restraining my self from grabbing too hard. As if she sensed my restraint, she softly said, "I do like gentle, but you can hold them a little tighter, please!" Please?

We both enjoyed the slow build for a bit, but she soon replaced my hands with hers and began to work faster. She had clearly decided it was time to finish me, and my attempts at attempting to extend the experience were beginning to fail anyway.

Monique was now looking down at where the action was, the purple head of my penis disappearing between her breasts, then bursting back out above them with increasing frequency as she moved faster and faster. The stimulation was amazing and I gave in to the impending orgasm. I shuddered through my whole body and my hips involuntarily bucked upwards. "I'm..." was all I could get out in warning before I unloaded. At the first spurt, Moniques head jerked up and she almost lost her grip on her tits. Several more spurts came after, the first roping across her throat, before she had my cock's head fully encased between her tits, and the remaining load smeared out into the fleshy enclosure.

I gasped, first in ecstasy, then in embarrassment. My first spurt had been prodigious, and had hit Monique full in the face, covering her cheek and nose in dripping jizz. She sat back on her heels, releasing my spent cock and she was a glorious mess. Cum dripped down off her jawline, droplets were all over her throat, and the inner curves of her fabulous rack was smeared in a generous sheen. I was torn between the desire to memorize this vision, and to apologize. I went with the latter.

Monique looked down at herself with a worryingly irritated expression, but then she shook her head ruefully and smiled back at me. "Well," she said pulling a few napkins off the huge pile Tina had 'presciently' left for us and dabbed at her face, "I worked very hard to get that result. I just wasn't ready for quite how much result I got! I hope you were satisfied?"

I barked a laugh and sagged comically in the chair, before grabbing a few napkins of my own and drying my swiftly softening shaft. Watching Monique hunt around her chest and neck for bits of spooge to wipe away was a show in itself, and once I finished cleaning myself I relaxed with my drink to enjoy the view. As she was finishing, removing a thin line under her jaw that had previously escaped her notice, some one bumped the screening chair. Monique swiftly helped my get my pants back in place, then relaxed as I much more slowly tucked my shirt back in. Sure now that she was dry, she pulled her soft nightgown back over her head and let is slide enchantingly back into place.

I pulled out the wad of cash that was supposed to have been my recreation money for the entire week, and peeled most of it off for her. I paid for the songs that played while we were having fun. I paid for those songs again for the extracurricular activity. Then paid for them a third time because, Holy Shit. Finally, I added a pretty good tip for good measure. From her reaction, I had nailed the payment in my intended window of 'generous, but not a patsy'. She and I finished our drinks and I looked at the unholy mess of napkins in and around the empty glasses. I laid down another twenty for Tina, a gesture of which Monique clearly approved.

"I'm on until midnight," she said, standing, "but I think I am going to the locker room to shower before I get back to work! Are you going to hang around?"

"No!" I laughed. "I'm spent, physically and fiscally for tonight. Keep an eye out for me in the future, please!"

"Actually, walk with me for a minute or two, will you?" I added as I rose, my background idea now crystalized. "I need some insider knowledge."

"What do you mean?" asked Monique, walking now arm in arm with me as we headed for the hallway.

"I have a client, a prospect actually, who is a very tough nut for me and my company to crack. My read on him is that the right experience here might be the catalyst I need to break open the customer relationship."

"I think I see where you are going. It shouldn't be hard. We specialize in the right experience here!"

"Don't I know it!" I chuckled. "But I probably will only have one shot at this, so it can't just be 'right', it has to be 'just right'. I need a dancer," I went on, "who enjoys going to the champagne room, and who is willing to go the extra mile, ALL the extra miles, for the customer."

"Okay. As I said, there are plenty of girls here who fit the bill. But you are smart to make sure you are getting one of them."

"I also need her to be in the upper echelons here, looks-wise. After drinks and stage tipping here for a couple of hours, I want him to believe that he is getting one of the picks of the litter."

"That does narrow it down," mused Monique, starting to look around at the various girls working in the club that night with an evaluative air.

"Finally, she has to be on top of her game for this guy," I said, pulling out my phone and showing Monique the picture of Gus that had accompanied his contact info when he shared that with me earlier.

"Well, he is not quite you in the looks department," Monique chuckled.

"Yeah, I doubt he has women banging down his doors. He's also kind of a douche, and I doubt that he is much of a gentleman. The good news is, he doesn't smell."

"Thank heaven for small favors," laughed Monique. "All that does narrow down the options if you need a sure thing..." We walked companionably around, taking in the sights, but I began to be worried that she was taking so long to come up with any options.

"There!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping she was working tonight. There are others you can work with if you don't like her, but Fyre is probably your Ms. Just Right." She pointed over to a dancer who was just detaching herself from a customer in the main room and walking away toward the locker room. I started to follow, but Monique held me back. "She's about to go on stage. We'll let her dance for you a bit up there so you can see her, all of her. Then we can talk."

We moved to the stage side as Fyre was announced and out came a compact firecracker of a dancer. She was cute, slender, but sporting a big set of fake stripper tits that were just small enough to look like breasts, not cartoons. She wore black boy shorts that exposed the bottom third of her big but shapely ass and a mostly transparent band top that covered neither the top nor bottom curves of her tits. It said "Yes, Daddy" across the front.

Within a minute, Fyre was wearing nothing at all as she gryated around the stage, already collecting tips. I nodded to Monique that she was indeed in the upper echelon of women at the club. Fyre was not in Monique's class, but then most clubs could only wish there was even one dancer in Monique's league working there at all.

I still had a bunch of the two dollar bills I use for stage tipping at clubs, since they make you more memorable, and began feeding them to Fyre, who went from having me slide them into her garter to letting me place them between her tits. Monique nudged me and asked for a handful. When Fyre came around to us again she spied Monique with the whole handful stuffed into her cleavage and leaning over the brass rail.

Conversations dies around us as Fyre began to lean down to Moniques chest and pull out the bills one at a time... with her teeth. A few whoops began to be heard around us, increasing as Fyre went. The last bill has fallen deep down on Monique and Fyre took plenty of time with her face buried in Monique's breasts before coming up with the bill clenched inner teeth. Cheers erupted all around and the stage was showered with crumpled bills of more than one denomination.

Fyre leaned down to Monique. "Thanks, I'll have your share of that rain for you later."

She started to move off to collect the windfall, but Monique held her back. "Thanks, but when you are done, you need to come over and talk to my friend here," she said firmly, indicating me.

"I'm with a guy right now," said Fyre, indicating the table she had risen from to hit the stage, "but I'll try to find you in a bit."

"No," replied Monique firmly. "Come see us first. It's for a future night, and it will be worth your while."

Fyre looked at Monique, then me, then nodded.

We sat down at a table nearby, and when Fyre got off stage, she made a brief excuse to the client she was working that evening, and came to sit with us.

I began to try to explain politely to Fyre what I needed and she listened attentively. Then she turned to Monique with a smile and said, "So what he means is he wants to bring in an ugly asshole of a client and have me take him the champagne room and fuck him into submission?"

"Yup."

She looked at me and named a price. I winced, then we shook hands. "Don't let him order the garlic chicken," Monique and Fyre said at the same time.