Say What...! Pt. 01

I want to thank reader TA for the initial idea that ended up becoming this story.

Part 1

Prologue

"It's alright," she murmured into his ear as they huddled together, ducking down in the bathtub, "I locked the door."

The next scream, followed by the crash of even more glass shattering, drew them yet closer together. They both shivered in their desperate hug despite the warm summer evening.

As hot as it had been, she wore only a thin, thigh length nightie to sleep and he, just white cotton briefs. So that was all they had on making the desperate scramble from the bed they shared in the small apartment to the purported safety of the tub.

The angry yelling got louder, closer to the bathroom door. They couldn't really make out all the words, but knew the difference between their mother's desperate pleading and the enraged shouts of the latest stranger she brought into their home.

The thin wall to the bathroom shook even as they heard their mother scream again, so loudly she almost drowned out the sound of the approaching sirens.

Then silence.

"It's alright," his five year old sister whispered into his ear again, hugging him even tighter, "I'll always take care of you."

They both jumped when the pounding began on the door, accompanied by loud, vile threats and curses. That too stopped with even louder voices...shouting commands...more curses...the sounds of scuffling...gun shots....

"...kick the knife...."

...."is he dead...?"

"...check the woman...."

"...what a fucking mess...."

"...what was he doing at the door...?"

"...it's locked...check the other rooms...."

"Hello, someone in there?" a gentle voice called out, knocking loudly on the bathroom door. "Police...anyone in there?"

His sister unbolted the door, the two of them standing there wide eyed, trembling.

"...oh shit...there's two little kids in here...."

"...get them out...cover their eyes...."

"...I got the girl...grab the boy...."

"...don't let them see all this...."

At age three, he only vaguely remembered the last time he saw her, screaming his name as she reached back over the shoulder of the cop carrying her out to the street...and the last look at his mother curled up in an expanding pool of her own blood.

Twenty Five Years Later

Tim stood in the entry way of the high end gentlemen's club, looking around for his friends, three guys he'd known...intimately...since college. It was his twenty eighth birthday and they had given him the choice of the strip club or the gay bathhouse for the celebration. That night, he was in the mood for pussy...new and different pussy...without any attachments. This was just the place.

On the small circular stage surrounded on three sides by a dozen or so chairs, a completely naked bottle blonde with big fake tits and a shaved pussy who called herself Candy wiggled and writhed in front of five older men with fat bellies and thick wads of bills in their hands. Tim recalled from earlier visits she gave at best a mediocre blow job.

He spotted his friends at a table towards the back of the room, near the curtained opening that lead to the small private booths where the real action in the club took place. His three buddies already had two naked women at their table, a redhead with a bushy, unshaven pussy he remembered liked to be ass fucked for the right price and a raven haired woman he had not seen before.

Right away, he knew she was his new and different pussy for the night.

She called herself Summer, not that anyone really believed that was her actual name. Her coal black hair reached almost to the the crack of her taut shapely low slung ass, the thin runway strip of pussy hair expertly trimmed to direct the eye to the inviting crease continuing down between her legs and dark brown aureole capped her average but perky tits with stiff, little finger tip sized nipples.

All of that was simply expected in that club and was not what most first drew his attention. She had a distinctive, yet elegant, tattoo that looked like a flight of sparrows rising from beneath her pierced left breast, swooping up through her cleavage and spreading across her entire right tit to end with a single lead bird under her right ear.

When she glanced at him, he was instantly lost in her gray eyes. Before he knew it, he was following her into a private booth to a chorus of lewd, boisterous, and derisive catcalls from his three friends, each of whom fondled a naked girl sitting on their lap.

"Your friend told me you're Birthday Boy," Summer cooed into his ear before gently pushing him down on the single plush chair in the small room, "and to make sure your present is very...special."

He grinned up at her, eagerly anticipating what her definition of special might be. Although she couldn't strip for him, since she was already naked save for a gold chain around her waist, she did straddle his leg and lean forward until the tips of her erect nipples brushed over his chest.

She flicked her tongue into his ear and squatted until the edges of her slightly puffy pussy lips lightly pressed against the top of his thigh. Her tongue pressed deeper into his ear when he reached up and twirled a stiff nipple in two fingers.

After a moment, she reached down, unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper and tore his jeans and underwear off with a single practiced motion. His semi hard dick flopped out, stiffening rapidly even before she wrapped her fingers around the base.

Again she straddled his leg, this time pressing her pussy down a little harder, grinding her hips slowly so he could feel the warm, slick wetness when her pussy lips parted slightly. He buried his face between her tits, turning his head to suck in the stiff pierced nipple.

"We have thirty minutes...well actually twenty eight now," she whispered huskily into his ear, followed by another flick of her tongue. "I don't fuck here for anyone...period. Anything else is on the table. Your friend told me you're partial to blow jobs, both getting and giving. That's hot. I get myself off sometimes watching gay porn. I love seeing two guys suck and fuck, big cocks filling tight assholes or rammed deep in another one's throat...and I'm especially fond of the feel...and taste...of a hard cumming cock filling my mouth."

As she talked, she ground her pussy even harder against his bare thigh and stroked his throbbing dick a little faster. He took the other nipple into his mouth, holding the base with his teeth as he swirled his tongue around the tip. Her back stiffened slightly and she let out a low moan.

"I like eating pussy as much as I like sucking cock," he murmured, feeling the beginning of an orgasm building in his balls before pulling her head down for a tongue lashing kiss.

"A man after my own heart...or pussy at the very least," she grinned at him, breaking off the kiss and squeezing his balls gently.

They stood and switched positions, with her sitting on the plush chair. He dropped to his knees as she pulled both heels up on the seat, opened her thighs and, using both hands, spread her cunt lips open wide.

For a moment he gazed in awe at what he thought just might be the most perfect pussy he'd ever seen.

Unlike his wife, whose ragged lips dangled down unevenly from the wiry tangle of her cunt hair, the edges of Summer's lips were mostly even and smooth. The inner flesh glistened moist and pink, topped by an unexpectedly large clit that popped out tantalizingly between two of her fingers.

"You're drooling," she giggled, pushing her hips toward him with the scintillating nub of her enormous clit lightly pinched between two fingers, "and yes I'm told it tastes even better than it looks. You do want a taste before your time is up, don't you?"

He wiped away the spittle leaking from his chin with the back of his hand, never taking his eyes off that exquisite, inviting gash. He had ever intention to get a lot more than just a taste and totally savor every last bit.

Rather than dive right in, he surprised her by licking up her inner thigh from just above her knee, stopping when the tip of his tongue reached the outer edges of her smooth bare mound to lick up the inside of her other leg. After circling the outside edges of her puffy cunt lips with his tongue, he rolled his eyes up to look at her.

"You're really pretty good at that," she said softly, gripping the arms of the chair tightly with both hands. "I don't usually cum with my customers either."

"Usually?" he asked impishly, dragging the tip of his tongue all the way from her tight asshole to brush over that enormous clit.

"Yeah...uh...um...usually," she moaned lowly, moving her hands to cup both her tits and gently pinch her own nipples.

He took that as a challenge.

He saw a droplet of her juice seeping toward her asshole, scooping it up with the tip of his tongue, relishing the pungent taste even as he deeply inhaled the scent of her sex.

She groaned again softly and squirmed her hips a little.

He swirled the tip of his tongue around the dark opening leading into the depths of her cunt.

She caught her breath and put her hand on the back of his head.

He slowly licked up through her moist, aromatic slit until he could suck her huge clit into his mouth.

She whimpered softly and tightened her grip on his hair.

He gently closed his teeth around the base of her clit and swirled the tip with his tongue.

She thrust her hips against his face with a loud groan.

He very gently dragged his teeth up the length of her clit.

She clamped her thighs around his head and muffled a shriek with the back of her hand.

"Fuck...oh fuck...that's...don't...don't stop...fuck...fuck...YES!" Summer wailed, flailing against his face for a few moments before slumping back into the cushioned depths of the chair.

"Usually, huh?" Tim said, looking up with a shit eating grin on his face, his cheeks and chin coated with her musky pussy juices.

"Yeah...well...uh...usually," she responded with a wicked grin of her own, leaning forward to have him stand and taking his throbbing cock into her hand, "and actually...that was a first...for here anyway."

Summer proceeded to give him the most astounding blow job of his life.

Over and over she brought him right to the verge of cumming, only to pull back and do it all over again. She sucked and licked his balls, slipped a finger into his ass and swallowed his six inch cock until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. By the time she allowed him to cum, he was begging her to let him explode.

And explode he did, pumping more cum into her mouth and down her throat than he even knew was possible. Summer swallowed a good portion of his semen, gagging and sputtering when her mouth became so full a few strings dribbled down over her chin to splatter on her tits.

His knees buckled as his orgasm peaked and he steadied himself with a hand on her shoulder. She waited patiently as he collected himself before standing and handing him his jeans with a devilish smile on her face.

After he pulled his jeans back on, he took a fifty out of his wallet, rolled it tightly together and held it out upright in two fingers.

"That's not really necessary," she murmured softly, looking at him with her sultry gray eyes, "your friends already took care of everything...for you...Birthday."

"Even so, I want to," he replied, extending his hand.

She smiled wickedly at him, obligingly spread her pussy lips with her fingers and squatted slightly. When he pushed the rolled up bill deep into her cunt, the tip of his finger went up inside her to his first knuckle as well. She smiled and thanked him with a tender kiss on the cheek before leading him back to the table.

They approached the table to another chorus of catcalls and lewd comments. His three friends sat alone, probably already having spent all their ready cash on grossly overpriced drinks and equally overpriced girls.

Without saying a word, Summer turned to him, pulled his head down and gave him an open mouthed, tongue lashing kiss. She then turned and walked away, her bare ass swaying provocatively as his friends looked on in stunned silence.

Sixteen Months Later

Tim stood in the line leading to the registration table looking around in amazement at the number of people milling about. He had no idea so many people had an interest in genealogy and were willing to fork over fifty bucks to give up an entire Saturday for a day of talks and seminars and booths peddling different services and products.

As he approached his thirtieth birthday, he was keenly aware he knew nothing about his biological family, save for a few nightmarish staccato images from the night his mother died and a hazy recollection of a slightly older sister. His memory was so spotty he didn't remember her name and wasn't even sure she existed at all.

His adopted family provided him with a safe and comfortable upbringing, leading to an excellent college education and a promising and lucrative career in finance and investments. That somehow just wasn't enough.

He did some research online, leading to some genealogy websites and finally this conference which promised to provide him with more and better tools to aid in his search. Either his adopted parents didn't know the details of his early life or didn't want to share them with him. In any case, his own curiosity grew to the point he just had to know, so here he was.

The line shuffled forward slowly until it was finally his turn. He wrote his first name on the self adhesive name tag and slapped it on the front of his shirt before walking away from the registration desk to look through the swag bag provided, mostly filled with the conference schedule and the usual promotional materials from the various companies supporting the event.

After another line to get some coffee, he headed toward the first talk he earlier decided he wanted to attend. So too apparently did a good number of the other attendees, as the small room filled up rapidly. He grabbed an empty chair near the back, sipping his coffee and looking around until the speaker walked to the front of the room and the low murmur of conversation gradually faded away. He quickly lost interest and was trying to figure out a way to unobtrusively extract himself from the room when he spotted her.

She was sitting three or four rows in front of him and off to his left. Her long black hair tied up in a pony tail made the distinctive tattooed swallow reaching for her right ear all the more visible above the collar of her white blouse. He planted himself back in his seat, his dick throbbing against his jeans, determined to talk to her when the session was over.

When the conference room began to empty, he held back, waiting for her to get ahead of him. She chatted amiably with another woman as they left, stopping in the wide hallway to continue talking.

Approaching her from behind, he couldn't help but admire the way her well fitted jeans clung to her low slung ass, her silky black hair reaching well past her belt but most enticing, the little bird at her ear, a bird he knew would forever lead an entire flight across her perky tits.

"Excuse me," he said, softly tapping her on her shoulder.

"Yes?" she asked, turning to face him, regarding him warily. "May I help you?"

"Well...it's just...I don't just walk up to people and introduce myself...usually," he stammered looking directly into her mesmerizing gray eyes, "but your tattoo is so...distinctive."

She stared at him a moment, glancing at his name tag before looking back directly in his eyes, a knowing smile creeping across her face.

"Well thank you...uh...Tim. I'm Sam, short for Samantha that I couldn't fit on this tag," she chuckled, extending her hand, noticing he seemed to be staring past the name tag plastered on her blouse above her left tit.

He shook her hand, recalling that same warm hand felt the same way gripping his throbbing cock. His dick twitched in his jeans.

"May I buy you a coffee?" he responded with a bright smile, letting his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary.

"Sure, why not," she answered with a wicked laugh after a moment's hesitation, "not that I want you to think I'll walk off with just anyone...usually."

Tim's breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. Clearly she remembered him, something he barely had hoped for and definitely increased exponentially the possibilities of their coming conversation.

"By the way," she said as they walked, a serious look on her face for just a few seconds before breaking into a hearty laugh, "Tim fits you a lot better. I never believed your mother really named you 'Birthday'!"

He laughed along with her for a few steps.

"In that case, I didn't buy Summer either," he countered, offering her his arm, "Angel would have been much better."

"It was already taken," she answered with a musical giggle, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm and lightly pressing her hip against his as they walked, "so was Devil...but I still...manage."

They sat across from one another in the coffee shop, exchanging small talk for a while until she pressed for more information. They had remarkably similar stories.

Both were orphaned at a very young age. Both were married with a single child, a seven year old boy for him and a six year old girl for her. They differed in that he was lucky to be adopted by a loving family. She lived in foster homes until running away at sixteen.

Both of them needed something more.

"How about some lunch? There's a pretty good burger place down the street with an excellent selection of local craft beers?" he suggested hopefully as the coffee shop filled up and it became more difficult to talk. "Besides, I really need to use the restroom."

"What about the conference?" she asked with an impish grin.

"Pretty boring and I didn't learn a damn thing at that first talk...until I saw you, of course." he replied, rising and throwing a large bill on the table to cover the check, "and I really, really need to get to the men's room."

She just laughed, rose and slipped her arm into his, quickly heading to the women's restroom herself.

"So what does your husband think about your job as a stripper?" he finally asked, nodding toward the ring on her left hand.

They sat side by side in the last booth facing the back wall of the bar, the low background din of conversation around them serving more as a bubble for their privacy than a distraction.

"Entertainer...not stripper...entertainer," she emphasized with a wry smile sipping a light pale ale, "it sounds so much more sophisticated. Besides, I'm already naked, or damn near, when I meet a customer as you well know, so there's little left to strip off...usually."

His cock stiffened again in his jeans when she said that even before he felt her foot brush over his under the table. They both knew their meeting that day was anything but usual.

"So to answer your question, Ray loves what I do for several reasons," she continued playing with her wedding band while keeping her eyes locked on his. "First, I make a lot more money than him, often as much in one night as he does all week stringing wires in homes under construction. Second, one of us is always home for our daughter April, since I often get home about the time he's waking up for work. Third, he really gets off knowing what I do with other men and even the occasional woman. I always tell him everything."

"Really?" he asked, a bit surprised by such a frank admission.