My Way to Cope

I couldn't go down there. It was too much work, and the boys were taking liberties they would have had to pay triple for in the curtains.

Maddy walked by me looking to get in the passageways, but I stopped her.

"Y'all okay, honey?" I asked.

She smiled and I knew she was fine. "Thanks, sug'. All good, he just spooked me a might. I got jizzed on once yarrs ago when some shitkicker unzipped during a lap dance, and now I'm jumpy 'bout it. Meanwhile, y'all believe poor Tina is still on stage. Lord almighty!"

"Fuckin injustice," I sneered. "Where's Sonia?"

"Sonia?" She hesitated a moment, then answered, "Sonia is up in VIP, I think."

I was oddly shocked. Sonia was kind of stuck up. I didn't expect she'd do VIP. I said as much to Maddy.

Maddy nodded. "Sonia's looking to put a downpayment on a house. On a night like this, giving head to these college boys... Shoot, that'll put her over the top for sure, and she knows it. I'd be up there too if the crowd weren't so rowdy. I just don't trust it."

"Would you?" I asked sincerely.

Maddy shrugged. "Thinkin bout what we do, sug'. It ain't exactly a mighty leap, is it?"

"But, it's sex," I muttered, feeling stupid.

Most strippers hold a hard line on that subject. We may be sex workers, but we ain't whores! That's what I always heard. Trouble is, not everyone means what they say and says what they mean, do they?

"Lemme go, sug', I need a break." She left.

I stood there all shook up. I was stunned, but also mad as a hornet. With the rules being broken, I was getting screwed out of cash on a night when I should be getting my biggest take-home. I was losing out because I was following the rules. I had to figure something out.

I looked at the entrance to VIP. Would a blowjob or two be so wrong?

VII

Sonia was up those few stairs, tucked away behind a curtain with a stranger's dick in her mouth. Sucking it, licking it, tasting it, feeling it grow and wiggle and twinge, and all those delicious things I remembered so fondly. It had been months for me now. I was good. I just played around. No sex. Never sex. Sucking dick was sex. Wasn't it? I couldn't!

But then why not? Shit. Minimal work for a huge profit was right up those stairs. No, better than that. Fun was up those stairs. Sex was up those stairs. Not marital sex, not real sex, just blowjobs. Fun stuff. Easy work. Fun work. Imagine sucking a nice, hard, hot dick after all this time, and getting paid for it. I missed sucking dick. I wanted to be sexy and carefree. I wanted to make a man moan his gratitude to me. I wanted that power, I wanted to play with a man's sex, and I wanted money. I needed sex, and I needed money.

Just thinking about it was making me tingle. I felt jittery

I walked up the stairs to investigate the dimly lit hall. Security guards Ben and Jim were standing guard. I nodded hello and they both smiled and nodded back. Nice dudes.

Rosario was cleaning one of the unoccupied parlors in a mask and gloves with goggles and a shower cap, spraying scented bleach and wiping sticky cum off one of the chairs. That sweet lady was made of iron. She did a damn good job too, which I found reassuring.

I could just barely hear Sonia in her parlor, talking game in a sultry voice while jerking some fella off. One of the other girls was sucking away, slobbering very audibly. I could just see through the curtain enough. It was one of the sometimers. She had a thick money roll in her purse and a thick, sexy cock in her mouth, savoring it like a fine steak. And I didn't. I felt like a regular chump.

Could I do it? Would I only be doing it for the money, or was I warming up to the idea of a hot, hard dick in my mouth? And could I pass up that payout? Sonia was buying a fucking house with the money she made up here. The other girls were cleaning up while I was working my ass for twenty-dollar dances. Could I do it though?

I couldn't find the answer, so the answer found me.

"Hi! Is this cool? Are you with someone?"

I turned to find a young man standing in the entranceway, and he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. A little pretty for me; I usually preferred the rugged look, but this guy was exceptional. He was tall and lean with black hair and blue eyes, perfect teeth, and dimples when he smiled. He was wearing some nice threads too. Casual, but the kind of stuff yacht club guys wore.

"Well, hi," I smiled warmly, like I always did to patrons. "Where you looking for me, honey?"

"I loved your performance earlier," he shouted over the music, flashing me those perfect teeth.

"Why thank you?" I replied.

"I lost track of you. I was hoping for a lap dance, but...," he asked with an excited glimmer, "Do you also work up here?"

I stood frozen. The Champagne Lounge was impenetrable, and the floor was exhausting mayhem. This was my chance to make some real money. All I had to do was take this gorgeous hunk of twentysomething behind a curtain, get on my knees, and take his young, hot, hard cock in my mouth. But shit, it was sex. This was what I did with John and John alone. Well, back when he still could. See, that was the problem.

It had been a long, long fucking time since I wrapped my lips around a hard one, and I was feeling it. Maybe it was just the time of the month, the endorphins from all that dancing, the electricity from all the people partying up at the club, or the thought of all that money I was missing out on; but while I wouldn't have even entertained the idea a week ago, I sure was right then and there.

I did what I always did and imagined his cock. I pictured it circumcised, long, and not too thick, with a little triangular head. Thinking like that was not helping matters. I felt butterflies in my tummy.

"I know it's expensive, but I can totally afford it," he said, flashing a wad of hundreds.

Oh damn. That was a lot of money.

It was a yes or no moment, a crossroads. How far would I go to make money?

How badly did I want this handsome man's dick? How much did I want the money?

I stopped thinking altogether. Instinct took over, and my heart sank at my words.

"Well now," I grinned widely. "Welcome to the VIP section!"

I held the young man's hand, guiding him to an empty parlor. He said his name was Keith. I looked up at Ben who gave me a confident smile and an assuring nod. I knew he had my back. That made it a little less scary as I closed the curtain.

I sat the tall, beautiful man in the big chair and he smiled appreciatively. He didn't try to negotiate or anything. He asked how much, and I told him a crazy amount that I heard the most gifted, sought-after girls demanded. He paused, and I wondered if maybe the whole thing was dead on arrival. Maybe I would be a little relieved if it was. Maybe I could charge him Champagne Lounge prices and just get felt up here instead? Since there was no booze, maybe I'd pet his cock through his khakis to make it special.

"How long?" he asked.

"For that price, honey," I answered. "Till you cum."

I sounded confident, but I was terrified.

He may have looked like a pretty boy, but he had a tough guy's swagger. handed me the cash. I had never held that much money at one time. I opened the little cabinet up, saying, "We have all kinds of toys and protection, lubes, whatever we need."

"All I need is you," he answered. "You're the queen, babe, the sexiest woman in this whole place. I've been dry for over two weeks, and a friend told me about this place. He said it was a clean place, but said it got plenty dirty in the VIP section. When I saw up on stage with that wet pussy, I knew it had to be you."

Fuck, that made me hot.

"Just so we're clear, you paid to get your dick teased and sucked. My pussy is off-limits. We ain't that kind of place. No pussy, and no anal allowed. Nows, I can show you my kitty while you beat off, I can beat you off with my tits out, I can suck you off, or all three, whatever. Your choice, honey."

"Damn," he sighed. "I really wanted that pussy."

I felt it throb hard when he said that.

"Sorry, honey." I replied, "Rules is rules, y'know."

He sighed heavily. "Alright, well, I'm getting that blowjob, but first..." He got comfortable, leaning back into the chair.

"Strip for me," he whispered with a smirk. "I want to see that beautiful body."

The thumping music from the main floor gave me the beat I needed. It was perfect. The DJ must have needed a minute, because it was a long, thumping, techno song I recognized from the last time he took a break. It would go on for another seven to ten minutes at least.

I danced a little and teased a little, swishing my hips, twerking, and making my ass clap. When you got a cake like I do, you can do that pretty easily, but it always impresses. He felt up my ass, humming his approval.

I slid off my bra and let my tits fall out.

"Wow," he whispered slowly.

I loved the way they felt bouncing and jiggling free while I danced. They were just big enough to swing too. He reached out and fondled them, giving them appreciative squeezes. He pulled them to his mouth and rolled his tongue around my nipples before giving them big, sucky kisses.

"You taste so good," he purred. "Now, show me that gorgeous wet pussy."

Keith was about five years my junior and looked like some soft-handed, rich, mamma's boy, but he acted and spoke like a real man—large and in charge. I liked it.

I bent forward, feeling his hot breath on my ass as I slid off my panties in the tight, tiny room. Would he try to lick my pussy? Should I let him?

His big, gentle hands found my hips and slowly drew me back. His tongue started flicking my labia and clit like a pillowy whip.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned, feeling a spasm from my clit to my core. My whole pussy came alive and I felt my vagina expanding, hungry for more than a tongue. I was so turned on that I started feeling feverish. I let him eat me out way longer than I should have, and the tingling wave of a mini orgasm zinged up my spine. It made me feel guilty. It was one thing to make him cum, it was another thing if I let him make me cum. That was John's honored duty.

"Easy, baby. Easy does it," I told him, my heart racing. I straightened up and turned around while my tingling pussy screamed at me.

"Your turn," I cooed.

He unbuttoned his green, collared shirt and I was stunned. He looked like an ancient Greek statue with his abs and pectorals. He was waxed smooth too, which again, wasn't my kind of thing usually, but shit, it was that night.

I placed my hands on his pecs and traced the edges of the muscles before moving down to his abs, finally hooking my finger on his belt. I unfastened it along with his button, pulled his zipper down, and knelt at his feet.

I was about to look at the first naked dick that wasn't John's since I was seventeen. I was so horny, and the anticipation was making it worse.

I slid down his pants and gasped so hard I nearly fainted.

He laughed. "Yeah, that's the typical reaction."

I wasn't even close to what I'd pictured. I was staring at the single biggest dick I had ever seen. It stuck straight out of the leg of his boxer shorts and ended around his knee. The head was round and bell-shaped. I was utterly gobsmacked. Sucking a cock that big was going to be a challenge, but holy shit was I down for it.

"Oh, honey," I giggled, sliding his boxers off. As I pulled them to his knees, the mega cock sprang straight up. I stared at it in awe. "I can't wait to get this in my mouth."

I wasn't lying. It wasn't just huge, it was beautiful.

It was roughly the size of two stacked beer cans and just as thick, almost as thick as the stripper pole on the main stage. My fingers couldn't reach around it. The pink head was big, even in proportion to the rest. I was like a mushroom on a cornstalk. It had one big but barely visible vein that crawled up its side and around the shaft like a tree root. The rest of his cock was silky smooth and, like the rest of his body, hairless. It curved upward and to the left ever so slightly, but I only noticed because I was studying it so intently.

I slowly shook my head, moving the stunning phallus around with my fingers, rolling the loose skin a bit. Even his hairless balls were huge, easily twice the normal size, and heavy as all get out.

Fuck condoms, I wanted to taste that meat. Hell, I wanted to drink his nut butter. This was a once-in-a-lifetime gift, and I wanted the full experience.

Guiding it to my mouth, I rested the tip on my pillowy tongue, which I rolled around it in a slow, delicate motion that picked up the pace as I went.

I stuck out my tongue and leaned in, pulling the smooth, pulsing cock into my mouth. Rhythmically, I rocked it in and out, deeper, and deeper, letting my mouth and throat get used to the mass. I took a deep breath through my nose and slowly eased the huge dick past my soft palate. Keep swallowing, I told myself as his cock sank deeper. I wondered if I could take every inch, but my throat refused to stretch enough. I bailed and pulled back, choking on a long rope of saliva. I loved it in my mouth and even my soft palate, but past that, it was just too big.

That broke the spell.

I was feeling all-overish. I was back with Jared, gagging on his dick while he laughed. I could hear the music, smell the weed, and taste the cheap booze. I could feel the friends he lent me to, their sticky, grubby, greedy hands all over my skin, and it was making me sick. I was back at his birthday party, naked with some other girls, performing for the boys. The boys were always laughing at what they made us do, making a mockery of the mental illnesses that made me and the other girls need to please them so badly. I felt far away from John, going backward through time. I felt a hole in my heart. What would I do without him? What am I becoming?

"Hey, what happened?" he asked. "Did it hurt?"

I genuinely felt bad. He paid a lot of money just to watch me have a nervous breakdown.

"Sorry, honey. I'm just getting used to that massive salami you got there."

Confronted with what I had gotten myself into, my blood ran cold. What do I tell this guy? Sorry, honey, I suddenly thought of my sick husband at home, and—now that I worked you all up—I'm gonna leave you with blue balls.

"It's too much for your throat, isn't it?" he asked. "That happens a lot."

"Aw, not at all," I lied, then smirked, "Well shit, maybe a little."

He laughed, then sighed and said, "Never mind the deep throating. Jerk it. Jerk it and suck on the head."

He was letting me off easy. I was past the point of no return here, and dammit, I wanted that money.

"Big, long strokes," he added, leaning back into the chair.

I got to it.

IX

I reached for the cabinet and opened it while the wall trembled with the booming bass of the techno song.

I grabbed some lube from the cabinet and poured it all over his massive member, leaving only his soft, fat cockhead dry. I basically emptied the bottle. Then, I wrapped my fingers around that thick love rocket, and with a satisfying squish from the lube, I slowly slid my hands up and down the long, thick shaft, feeling his heartbeat thumping.

I calmed right down and started getting horny again. There was just something so perversely delightful about it. My John had a great cock. It was like chicken dinner to me, but this was an entire Thanksgiving supper with all the fixings and my pussy was positively famished. In months, this was as close as I had come to satisfying my needs.

Slowly and softly, I kissed my lips to his big, warm, spongy head. Lord, I love the way those things feel! I prayed he was enjoying himself because it was my idea of heaven. I got to enjoy that big cock: the sight of it, the feel, and even the taste. They all got their own flavor you know, and his was very pleasant. I felt so sexy sucking it. I wished it was being videotaped, I'd have watched it every time I used my vibrator at home.

He groaned a little with pleasure, rolling those big blue eyes back in his head. Now and then, I peeked up from his cock to look at his abs and chest. I started feeling very lucky. Imagine getting paid all that money to play with a huge, beautiful cock attached to the most beautiful male model you ever saw.

I felt it intensely then: the ache, the gape, the hunger. I could feel my juices saturating my vulva, probably dripping on the floor. What would it feel like? I imagined myself standing over it, straddling it, then bending my knees and lowering myself onto it. I imagined it sliding into me, filling me. I wanted it so badly. I wanted it too much. Despite that desire, I wondered if I could I even handle such a huge cock? Could anyone? My throat still hurt from trying to stretch it around his soft head. Would my vagina feel the same or worse? I'm ashamed to say that fear was keeping me in check even more than my love for John.

Y'all, it's a sin, but my poor husband didn't even enter my mind at that point. This was something for me, something I had been missing for so long. I guess I was always a bit of a whore. I didn't stop for John; I just became his whore. Some women would be hurt to admit that, but I say you've got to know yourself to love yourself, and I accept my appetite as a part of me. John did. If being this way was wrong, either he or Jesus would have worked it out of me before that night.

There was a commotion outside. I heard a girl scream and a bunch of rowdy roars from the boys downstairs. I heard the stomping of the guards' boots as they ran out of the VIP and down to the main floor.

My trance was broken. I released my three-course meal, rose to my feet, and leaned my head out of the curtain to see what was going on. I was too far from the doorway to tell, but it was something big from how fast the guards ran.

It was the Champange Lounge. What'd I tell you? Those girls whipped those boys up too much, one took it too far and a fight broke out. Carl should have nipped that situation in the bud, but he was too greedy. He should've known you can only tease and tantalize men so far before they get violent. The thing about men—and folks nowadays don't always get this—is that they are as much slaves to their hormones as we are. It's no excuse for wrongdoing, don't take me wrong, but it is a factor that should not be ignored when alone with a man. At least that's my advice. I guess I should have followed my own advice.

Maybe Keith was a nice fella when he wasn't being teased by a gorgeous, naked, sex worker in heat, but what he did next was definitely not a nice thing to do to a married woman.

Two strong hands grabbed my hips tightly. I opened my mouth, ready to reassure Keith I wasn't going anywhere, but never got the words out before he yanked me back hard, right off my feet. Damn that tiny room; there was no way to maneuver, no room to escape. Panic struck me as he pulled me onto him, my naked ass on his lap, and his massive cock sticking up between my thighs like an oak tree, I stared at it in frightened realization.

"What the fuck?" I complained.

He hoisted me up by my ass sending my head straight at the wall. I caught it with my hands and pushed back to protect my head.

Both fight or flight were out of the question, so I fawned. I smiled adding. "C'mon now, baby. Ease up. Let me get back to what I was doing. The best part's coming."

He slid his hands down to my thighs and spread them wide apart from behind, laughing giddily like a kid about to steal a cookie. The worst part was, I could feel my clit and labia engorging and my pussy let out a little squelch as I struggled. It was wet as a mop. My blood ran cold as ice.

"No, not my pussy!" I protested. Struggling to find some way to twist out of his iron grip.