Reallove?

“Okay,” I hopped up and stuck my hand out.

He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, I forgot my little black book. Let me get a card from one of my guys.”

“It’s okay; I can get some paper from Louie.” I hurried to the bar, scribbled down my number, and came back. He looked serene seated in the dark. “Here.” I pressed it into his hand, quickly before I reconsidered, crumpling it slightly.

“Thank you Amy.” He was very gentlemanly, I later learned, and did call. This was after I had quit. I had continued to dance for a couple of nights, but I felt awkward and ashamed, the way I did when I started. I had been a very popular girl, but now I could not get into it and the dollars I used to pick up now went to the other girls. I think I knew I was going to have to give up dancing, but I resisted because I loved it so much. Then one of my regulars came in. I gave him a lap dance, and as he always did – pressed a finger into my body. But I suddenly felt such a sense of wrongness I burst into tears and ran into the back room. I quit right then and there.

The next day was the worst, I was totally lost and without a job. I finally went out and bought a paper to see what type of jobs there were out there. Nothing I read appealed to me. It was at that moment, at my lowest, the phone rang and I found Dan asking me out.

“I never asked you to quit.” Dan countered, unaware of my musings.

“I know, but I just couldn’t be naked in front of strangers anymore. And I was so happy when you called too; I was on egg shells waiting. So anyway now I can dance only for you. But the way you look at me and touch me when I do gets me so hot I want to die.” It’s true. When I turn down the lights, put on some of my old dancing music to put on a show for him, and watch his eyes invade every crevice of my form, I get so horny I’m literally shaking.

“Why was I so different?”

“I don’t know; it’s just the way you are. You weren’t the first guy who tried to see me, not just the body rubbing against you. Or at least not the first guy to pretend, but you were the first to do it.”

“So it was the way I talked to you. In short: my voice.” He was being silly, but he could tell I was uncomfortable and was letting me off the hook.

“No,” I shoved him, “stop being silly.” Thankfully the show was back, sparing me any more humiliation. Out of the blue he gave me a deep hard kiss, one of the ones he does when he is trying to tell me something. This is nice, but the message is never clear so I just feel lost.

“Now pay attention Sprinkles,” he said in his special voice, “I want to win and if we do maybe I’ll let you strip for me later.”

I socked him one. “My name is Amy.”

Thankfully Bob was talking, or I am sure I would have heard it. “What part of your husband’s body is shaped wrong for the rest of his body?” Wee, that was easy. The first time I put on his hat it fell over my eyes. His head is huge. I am unable to really see it, even though I know, but when I had it measured in a hat store they told me it was the biggest they had ever seen. He has to wear an eight. I used to tease him that that is why he is so smart, but that’s not the type of issue that really bothers someone. I looked over at him. He smiled so I knew we would be okay. I started studying the wives again. I always try to pick the one he likes best. Dan refuses to award points for this. We used to have me pick from the men, but he never put the effort into it that I do, so we gave that up. Dan has always been a take me as is guy. The black woman was a little heavy and very dark; he generally prefers cream to dark brown, so she was out. He does not care for blondes much, and she has a small chest, so I ruled her out. Bob came back. “Ladies, what is your husband’s favorite painting?” Fuck! I wish I paid more attention to his cultural pursuits. I’m not really interested in his artsy habits. I could picture the painting; it was some people from the thirties in a city dinner. He had shown it to me in a book. What was it? It had some short snappy title. I blanked and the TV was moving to the next question so I just wrote “Romeo and Juliet.” Bob, ignoring my troubles went on. “Ladies, this is you talking: ‘I’ll never forget the time during our most inventive whoopee session my husband pretended he was who of what?” Thankfully this was easy. We are pretty wild and have done a lot of things, but this spring he unexpectedly showed up in a vampire costume claiming he was “Count Sexula.”

I had been relaxing at home on a hot summer day, when the doorbell rang. There on my step in the middle of a July afternoon was my boyfriend dressed as vampire. We had played games before, but never to this extent.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m hoping so my dear, might I step in to explain?”

I was not going to let him get in that easily, “why can’t you explain right here?”

“Well, it is very involved to explain, and it is rather hot out. I thought perhaps you might prefer to be inside where it is cool.”

“I’m fine here, go on.”

“I am a traveler in these parts, and as of late I’ve started to wear down. I am in need of an energy boost if you will.”

“I’m sure you can find a hotel, or restaurant, or whatever it is you need in town.”

“I’m afraid those amenities, while pleasant, will not suffice. You see my body needs art and beauty to replenish itself. I need to vibe of a human soul as it is at its happiest moment.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“When a human being is happy they give off a radiance, which is the energy I need.”

“Well fine, but why me. Anyone could do that for you.” I moved to close the door, but his arm whipped out to stop me.

“Alas no. You see only certain people give out enough energy. My senses tell me you are tuned to give off that power.”

“I don’t see why you can’t find someone else. I don’t want to”

“My dear you’re not grasping the situation, for me to feed you must be made to feel wonderful.”

“How?”

“If I could come in, perhaps we could discuss?”

Now I knew this was just a game, and he was my boyfriend, who’d fucked me more times than I could keep track of, but I was getting seriously curious about what he would do. “Oh, alright.”

“Wonderful.” He slid, that’s how it seemed, right over the threshold. Lost I led him into the living room. I sat down on the couch, without touching me yet still intimidating in his presence he sat down next to me.

“So what do we do?”

“Why don’t you tell me about some of your favorite memories?”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

“Uh, what type?”

“It does not matter.”

I thought I would toy with him. “I remember on my sixth birthday my dad came home and gave me my very first bike. It was bright red with white trim.”

“Mmmm.” He moaned with closed eyes, forever perverting that memory for me. “What else?” He put a hand on my knee. “What else?”

“Hey what are you doing?”

“I need to be in physical contact with you to harvest your energy. Go on.”

“Well,” I was struggling. All the memories that popped up involved Dan, and I did not want to give in that easily, “my high school graduation was pretty amazing. I remember riding there with my parents on a beautiful day. I felt a little melancholy because I knew it would be the last time I would ever go there.”

“Tell me more, how was the ceremony?”

“Oh it was alright.”

“Did you have a party after?”

“Well some of us went to this house party. I go so drunk! I made out my best friend!” I chuckled before I realized my mistake. I had never told Dan about my lesbian experiments, if you tell a man they want a threesome the next night. I looked over at him; there was a gleam in his eye. The hunter’s gleam, he knew he had me trapped.

“You kissed your best friend?” He lightly began stroke the top of my thigh. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was okay.” God it was embarrassing.

“Tell me the story.”

“There’s not much to tell. We were drunk sitting next to each other joking about loser boys from our high school we would never see again, we started comparing stories about the guys and we wanted to see what it would be like to kiss a girl.”

“How was it?” He was leaning into me.

“Nice, she was soft and sweet. When we stopped and realized what we had done we just looked at each other and giggled.”

“Did you kiss her again?”

“A little.”

“Tongue?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And after that?”

“I had to throw up; I told you I was drunk.”

“Did you ever kiss her again?”

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

Oh jeez. “Yeah,” I admitted, “It was fun.”

“Did you fantasize about it?”

“A little.”

“Tell me what you imagined.”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe us going out for a fun night, a movie, a late night restaurant stop, coming back to my place while my parents were out for town. I pictured kissing her once lightly on the mouth and asking her if she wanted to come in. We’d make out on the couch in the middle of the living room. I’d pull off her shirt. You know I always wanted to see her chest? They were small, but bounced soo much! I thought she’d be shy and cover herself, so I nuzzle her with my head. She’d resist so I say I would take my top off too. We hug, tit to tit, and give a really passionate kiss.” Dan was had an arm around me and was stroking my breast bone, exposed by my stretched tee. “I’d take her hand and put it down my pants so she could touch me. I would also stick a hand into her panties and would get each other off while we kissed. Afterwards she’d stay in my arms and ask to spend the night.”

Dan did something he had never done before; he picked up my hand and bit my palm. “And that’s the extent of your lesbian history?”

Oh why’d he have to ask that?! “No…when I was stripper I worked with another girl. We put on lesbian show for guys in the private room. Backstage we kissed and felt each other up a little.”

“Did you want more?”

“I guess. I wanted a boyfriend mainly.”

He licked the veins on my wrist. “What did the show you did consist of?”

“You know; the usual stuff. We kissed, licked each other’s tits. One of us would put on strap on and fuck the other, or we’d use a double ended dildo.”

“Who used the strap on?”

“We’d switch.” I was getting uncomfortably turned on by this point.

“Did you like doing these shows?”

“Oh yeah, it was really kinky.”

“Why didn’t you go farther?”

“Oh she was a little wild; I didn’t need that in my life.”

“Did she want to?”

“Oh yeah, she was all over me.”

“How did she tempt you?”

“She was just always around me, tugging on my nipples, cupping my ass, running her tongue over my lips.”

“But you never went all the way with another woman?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I was never in the right situation. I like men, so I never looked for women.” I realized his hands were under my skirt when I felt my panties tugging. “Hey!” I grabbed him.

“Don’t worry.” He took my hands off his and firmly peeled them down. “Purple!?” Yes, I had worn my purple panties, which I almost never wear. I had no reason; I just spied them in my drawer this morning. “Very nice.” They slipped over my ankles and he held them up for us to look at. “They’re wet.”

That struck me as hilariously funny. “Yes.”

“Now why is that?”

“You’re the expert.”

“Are you imagining being with women?”

“Maybe,” he leaned over to kiss my knee, “and other things.”

He curled his hand into a point and traced his finger down my inner thigh. “What other things?” His finger pressed, but I grabbed his hand to stop him.

With one knuckle worth inside me I tried to focus on speaking. Just that little bit of pressure was causing me to leak all over myself. “What you are going to do to me.”

He chuckled and pressed in a little farther against my resistance. “You don’t have anything to worry about from me.”

“I didn’t say I was worried.”

“Then relax.” He tried to press in more.

“But I don’t know you, or what you’re going to do. And I have a boyfriend.”

“Tell me about him. How did you meet?”

Shit, my pussy fired at that, he knew I loved that story. “Umm, I was a stripper and gave him a dance.”

“Is he good?”

“Oh yeah.” I was not saying that to stroke his ego either. He gave me an amused look. I did not understand: I can never focus when I’m turned on. I looked down and realized that some part of my subconscious had made me start fucking myself with his finger. I was going to say “now I want something big,” but he yanked my legs so I fell on my back. He bit my inner thigh to make me squeal like a stuck pig. Dan, when the mood strikes him, can eat a mean pussy. This time he was savage. He sucked one of my labs in, pinching it with his lips and rubbing his tongue over the sensitive edge. I was stretched as he pulled back without releasing. I grunted as he slammed his whole head into me, his tongue penetrating me. Small kisses moved in circles around my pussy and thighs as my breath returned. I was horny now, me pussy was soaking the cushion under my ass. I trembled as his tongue ran over my hole, but just traced me, denying me horribly. “Stop teasing me!” I got what I wanted, he covered me with his mouth, pushing his whole mouth inside me and raspberried. The vibrations sent me over the edge. It was powerful, a wall that crushed me. I flopped back down, but only for a moment as he sucked on my clit, forcing me to contract. “Shit!!” He fucked me hard with his fingers. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I chanted and my second orgasm hit me. I was too weak to resist as he rolled me and hung me over the back of the couch. I yelped as he pinched my engorged clit. I bucked as he rimmed me, licked down, and forced his tongue into me. He alternated between nibbling on me and fucking with his tongue. My pussy was so sore I came a third time in a hurry. “No more! Please!! I need a break!” I tried to crawl away, but he was not interested and pulled my legs over shoulders to continue the assault. Broken, I started crying. “Please! Oh god! It’s too much!” I writhed to try and get relief to no result. His tongue and fingers where everywhere and I shuttered as I exploded for a fourth time. Finally he let up, but only momentarily as he dragged me to my feet and bent me over my sideboard. Fear filled me as I watched him drop his pants over my shoulder in the mirror, I was so tender already. His strong fingers pressed down on my flesh as he grabbed my hips. He drove his cock into me; I was soaked so he slid right in. He pounded me, and I took it. My attention focused on the heat of his cock inside me. I wished I could wrap myself around it entirely to show him how much I loved him. I melted at the feel of his rod splitting me, I felt cherished. I won’t have thought it was possible but I felt another orgasm begin to form inside me. It came quickly and I tossed in fury, barely aware Dan was cumming too. The air rushed from my lungs and I blacked out. I came back to feel Dan sprinkling my face with water.

I had fainted. I did not think that actually happened, and neither apparently did Dan, it was one of the few times I’ve seen him seriously upset. I’m not complaining, but we still laugh about it. The memory got me wet instantly. He had to know that.

I was quickly drawn back to the show because Bob was heading onto the bonus question. It’s worth 25 points and we almost always need it to win. “Right now are there more than or less than three broken items in your house or apartment?” Another problem question. We had a system by now, we judged by the apartment we were watching in. I did not have three broken things. I do not fix anything, preferring just buy replacements. I was not sure if he knew that. He never threw things out, preferring to tear them apart, ostensibly to fix them (I think to see how they worked). I wrote less than three because it was true. We had a fifty-fifty chance. The show went to commercial.



“I have one and half answers.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have one answer for sure, and another I feel good about.”

“That does not sound so good.”

“Well even if we lose I still think I won.”

I rib shotted him. “Okay hotshot: what’s your biggest turn-on?”

“That was not the question.”

“I’m asking now.”

“It’s not you stripping, so let’s leave it at that.” Dan’s body language is very subtle, it took me a long time to learn it, but after two years I could tell he was uncomfortable. That was very intriguing. I straddled him and kissed his face a few times. I felt his cock pressing solidly against me. He tried to keep a little space between our bodies, letting me know I could weasel it out of him. He was embarrassed (rare for him), but it was not a real secret.

I nuzzled him. “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t laugh or tease you.”

He rolled his eyes, “the hell you won’t.”

“Come on, I thought we had an open relationship.” That’s a line he had used to pry information out of me countless times.

“Not that open.”

I knew he would give in if I pressed. “You know you will tell me in the end, why not just save us both some trouble?”

“Upp, show’s back.”

I frowned at the TV and turned back to kiss him deeply. “This isn’t over.”

“Gentlemen, what part of your body did your wife say is shaped all wrong for the rest of your body?”

Dan stroked his chin, which surprised me. “Let’s see the answer must be ‘my head,’ but which one?”



“We get ten points.” I cut his teasing short.

“I haven’t answered yet.”

“Whatever.” He snatched my hand and drew it towards his groin, but I yanked it back before I made contact. I socked him again.

“Hey.”

“Just pay attention to the game Mr. Stud.” He took my hand and kissed it, then put it on his manly attacker. I relented, squeezing it a little and absentmindedly rolling it as I watched and worked to puzzle out which wife he would like. The Asian woman small and slim, which no man ever complains about. On the other hand the brunette has big breast and showed a lot of leg. But her face was a little angular. That did not necessarily rule her out, but made my guess harder.

“Nighthawks.”

“Huh?”

“My favorite painting: Nighthawks.”

“That’s right! I couldn’t remember.”

“What did you say?”

I tried to cover the pad. “It’s not important.”

He pried my hands away. “Romeo and Juliet!?!” He screamed. He pinched me. “I can’t believe all my education produced this. I’m going to have to expose you to more culture.”

I groaned. “I just blanked.”

“So that is what you came up with?”

“I knew I did not know.” He mumbled a little, but let it go. “Does it bother you I didn’t know that?”

“You are the one who cares about the ten points.”

“No, that I did not know what painting you liked.”

“Some. Often it seems as though what I tell you goes in one ear and out the other. But it‘s one little thing. I don’t expect you to remember everything I say.”

I thought about that and accepted it.

“Gentlemen, complete this sentence. This is your wife talking: ‘I’ll never forget the time during our most inventive whoopee session my husband pretended he was who or what’?”

We had to get this one I figured, but Dan did not answer quickly.

“Well?”

“There are a lot of possible answers. You are pretty kinky.”

“Me?! As you like to say: ‘this relationship is a partnership’ you pervert.”

“I am not the one who makes most of the wild suggestions. The craziest idea I ever had was that ‘Count Sexula’ session. I guess I can go with that.”

“Yes!!” I showed him the pad. “If you had gotten that wrong I would have killed you. What else could it be?”

“Well that was the first incident that came to mind, it was unusual.”

“Of course, you’re insane. You just saw a costume shop and thought I’ll swing by Amy’s as a sex-crazed vampire? Who else do you think does that? What other fantasy did you think I might say?”

“I was not sure, but it is not as thought we have a meat and potatoes sex life otherwise.”

That was true I thought as the TV went to commercial. Which reminded me, “So what is your biggest turn on?”