The Gold Dollar Girls

Bryant got out and walked to a nearby unit. He punched a code into a keypad and an overhead door rose. He disappeared inside and Rhonda got out of the car, and tried to see into the dark interior. She heard the sound of an engine roaring to life and saw a pair of red tail lights flash on.

Bryant backed the Mustang out of its stall. It really was a beautiful car. For some reason, she had assumed that it would be candy apple red, but it was actually a deep royal purple. Bryant pulled alongside her and stopped. He lowered the roof and looked up at Rhonda with a wide, bright smile.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's gorgeous."

"Climb in."

Rhonda considered doing exactly that, climbing in over the side, but thought she'd look foolish, so she opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Bryant got out, backed the Honda into the empty storage unit, and bought down the door.

When he was back behind the wheel of the Mustang, he grinned and revved the engine. Rhonda had never understood the notion of girls getting excited about a guy because he had a cool car, but feeling the vibration of the Mustang's engine, she considered that they might have a point.

Bryant weaved through the lot back to the front gate.

"So, do you have an idea where you'd like to go for lunch?" he asked.

"Head downtown, I've got a place in mind."

"You'll have to give me directions, all I know is how to get from my apartment to my new office."

Rhonda guided him in a circuitous route toward the center of town, trying to show him more than strip malls and office complexes. They took Riverside Drive through the park, and cut across the quiet college campus. For a moment, Rhonda wondered if she'd spot Misty or Maya, but remembered that it was Sunday.

They passed City Hall and the library. At the corner of First and Washington, someone let out a loud wolf whistle as they waited at the light.

"I don't know if that was for you or the car," Bryant said with a broad grin.

"Take the next right," Rhonda told him, "A block down is Market Square, there is a nice cafe there with outdoor seating."

Bryant found a parking spot right in front of Helena's Bistro. He shut off the car and rushed around to open Rhonda's door. As she swiveled out of her seat, the hem of her dress rode up to the top of her thighs. She looked up and saw Bryant gazing at her legs. They made eye contact, and she smiled. He blushed, and she thought his boyish embarrassment was charming.

The sidewalk seating was only half full and they were shown to a table immediately.

"Try the Bloody Mary," Rhonda suggested, "They put a slice of bacon in it."

"That's different."

"Trust me," she said, picking up the menu.

The waitress came to take their order and Bryant did order them each a Bloody Mary. Rhonda was pleased. It was a good sign when a man would go along with a drink suggestion from a woman.

"So, tell me about yourself," Bryant said while they waited for their food.

Rhonda smiled. "You go first," she said. She thought there was a good chance that once she told him about herself, the conversation might end prematurely.

"Oh, alright," he said. Rhonda listened attentively while he described his job at an engineering firm.

"It's the kind of work I always wanted to do. But at the same time, I'd like to have some upward mobility, and I was pretty much blocked where I was at. So, when they opened the branch office here, I jumped at the opportunity."

He described some of the projects he had worked on. Rhonda found the details of no interest at all, but she did like the enthusiasm he showed for his work.

"And when you're not at work?" she asked.

"I'm a pretty normal guy. Not really big into sports. I'm kind of a movie buff."

"Oh, I like that," she said, smiling.

"Lately, I've started buying vinyl records. I think I could get into that. I hope it doesn't make me sound trendy or something."

Their food came; a reuben sandwich for Bryant, tuna salad for Rhonda.

"Alright, now it's your turn," Bryant said as they ate, "What do you do that you work on Saturday nights?"

Rhonda put down her sandwich and waited until he chewing eating and looked at her.

"I'm a dancer."

"What, like ballet?"

"No, not like ballet."

He furrowed his brow, then Rhonda saw understanding in his expression.

"You mean, you're a ...like a..."

"I think the politically correct term you are searching for is adult entertainer."

"Oh."

Rhonda had learned from hard experience that it was a good policy to be upfront about her profession when meeting someone new. Most men reacted in one of three ways, and it was best to know what you were dealing with. There were, of course, the guys who were immediately repelled, and a second group that thought that they had hit a sexual jackpot. The worst of all, though, were the white knights, who thought they should make it their mission to rescue you from your life of debauchery.

She suspected Bryant might belong in that third category, but his immediate response surprised her.

"So, do you wear your glasses when you dance?" he asked.

"It depends on what outfit I am wearing," she replied, "I have contacts, but I really don't care for them."

He fished the slice of bacon out of his Bloody Mary and ate it, then said, "Well, you are certainly attractive enough. And you were right about the Bloody Marys"

"Thank you."

He pushed his plate away, leaned closer and said, "You know what I'm thinking?"

Probably either that you can take such good care of me that I can quit stripping, or that we should go fuck in the men's room, she thought. "No, what?" she asked.

"We ought to take the Mustang out of town a ways, so you can see what she can do on the open road," he said.

"Sure, that will be fun."

They headed out of town, past modest houses, fast food restaurants and gas stations and a half dozen evangelical churches. As the buildings grew further apart, and the traffic lighter, Bryant increased their speed. Soon, they were virtually alone on the road, and cruising at seventy. Rhonda had to hold on to her hat to keep it from blowing off, then gave up, tucking it behind her legs and letting the wind whip her hair.

Bryant had a sure hand at the wheel. Rhonda tensed the first few times he took a curve, but he was in complete control. She had to admit, it was sexy.

She tapped him on the arm to get his attention. Shouting over the engine and the wind, she told him to turn right at the next crossroad. He nodded and patted her on the knee.

He slowed to make the turn on to a shady country road, lined on both shoulders with an explosion of wildflowers.

"There's a turn off up here a little way," Rhonda said, "Just past the sheep."

The sheep were just ahead of them, grazing in a broad sloping pasture. Rhonda pointed to a gap in the trees on the right. Bryant turned and stopped.

"This looks a little rough," he said, biting his lower lip.

"No, it's fine, just go slow."

He pulled forward, glancing nervously from side to side, but the Mustang easily cleared the scrub bushes and stands of day lilies that lined the narrow lane. Fifty yards in, the lane took a turn to the left and they entered a large clearing, covered with knee high grass and dotted with black eyed susans.

In front of them, past a scramble of wild roses, the ground fell away, opening up a sweeping view of a wide bend in the river. When the Mustang rolled to a stop, Rhonda got out.

"Come on," she said, I want to show you a special spot."

Bryant followed her across the field to the edge of the roses.

"What a great view," he said.

"When I was a teenager, this was our get away place, me and my friends."

Bryant laughed. "Your make out spot?"

"Sometimes," she replied with a grin.

Near the edge of a field, a huge fallen oak lay, half hidden in the brush. They walked around it, into a sheltered alcove, open on one side to the river. A limb of the oak formed a natural bench, and in the center of the alcove there was a bare spot, a blotch of dirt and ash.

"Kids start fires there," Rhonda explained, sitting down on the oak bench. "And, you know, drink beer, smoke pot, all the stuff you do when you are young."

"All the stuff?" Bryant asked, laughing.

Rhonda nodded her head. "A lot of stuff."

Bryant sat next to her. "My impression is that you were probably a good girl."

"No," Rhonda sighed, "I really wasn't. Things at home were bad. I acted out. When my parents finally split up for good, I bounced back and forth between them. Lived with my grandmother for a while. But, I could always come here, sometimes with my friends, sometimes just to be alone in a place where I felt like I belonged."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, then Bryant said, "It seems like you've come a long way. You really strike me as someone who has their shit together."

Rhonda laughed and shook her head. She reached out her hand and put it on his. He took hold of it, and turned to look at her. They gazed into each others eyes for a moment, and then he leaned forward and kissed her.

She placed her hand on the side of his neck and returned the kiss. On the third kiss, her lips parted and his tongue touched hers. He shifted on the branch, and put his arms around her, and they embraced as their kisses grew more passionate.

After a few minutes, Bryant pulled away.

"Is everything alright?" Rhonda asked, perplexed by his reaction.

"Yeah, it's just..."

"What?"

"Well, I don't want to give you a wrong impression."

"How do you mean?" she asked, taking his hand again.

"I don't want you to think that because you told me what you do for a living, that I thought we'd just...you know..."

Rhonda laughed. "A lot of guys do think that way," she told him.

"Well, I really liked you immediately, before I knew about that."

Rhonda hopped down from the tree branch and stood in front of him. She draped her arms over his shoulders.

"You're really sweet," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

He kissed her back, on the lips, and once again, the kissing intensified. He ran his hands up and down her back, from her hips to her shoulders. She liked his touch, it was firm but gentle. She waited for him to caress her breasts or her ass, but he did not. It made her feel good about him, that he was respectful of her in a way few men ever were.

She sat down on his thigh and looked out over the river. Bringing him here had just been a whim, but now it felt like it had been inspired.

"We ought to come back here some time with some firewood," he said, "Maybe a bottle of wine."

Rhonda laughed. "Like being a teenager again."

"What are those little birds flying around?" he asked.

"Cliff swallows. They make their nests in holes in the side of the bluff."

They stood and walked closer to the edge and looked down, watching the swallows flying in and out of their burrows. Then he took her hand and they walked back around the tree into the meadow. Rhonda dropped his hand and wrapped her arm around his waist. Leaning against him, she reached her face up for another kiss.

It has been several months since she'd been with a man, since breaking up with Jeffrey. She spend five nights a week simulating sex, now she felt a yearning for the real thing. Bryant was handsome and well built. He had been so sweet. And somehow, the fact that he didn't try to fuck her, really made her want him to.

Halfway to the car, she broke away from him. She snapped up a black eyed susan and tucked it behind her ear, then skipped toward the car. When she reached it, she did a twirl and faced him. He smiled broadly and she laughed.

She leaned back on the hood, and his expression changed.

"Don't worry," she said, "my ass isn't hard enough to scratch your car."

He grinned at that. Rhonda put one foot on the bumper and raised herself on to the hood. She put her hands on her knees and ran them up her thighs, dragging the hem of her dress along.

"Come here, baby," she said in a breathy voice. Bryant stepped between her legs and put his hands on her hips. Rhonda tilted her head back and reached down, cupping his crotch in her hand. When he kissed her this time, it was not gentle, it was strong and hungry. She joined him in his passions and their tongues danced together.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him tightly to her. She could feel his erection straining through fabric against her mound.

He moaned loudly, then kissed the side of her neck. He flicked her ear with his tongue and she giggled. He reached under her legs and lifted them, and she gasped.

Lying back on the hood of the Mustang, she could see the swallows darting through the sky above her. She felt Bryant's hands slide up her hips. She raised them enough for him to slide her panties down.

"Get my purse," she said, "I've got condoms."

She ran her fingers over her slit while he fetched her purse. She was already wet. He handed her the purse, and she dug out a condom and held it out to him.

"In a few minutes," he said, and moved back between her legs. He dropped to his knees, and lowered his head. When she felt his tongue slip between her labia, she grasped his hair and held him in place. He eats pussy like he really loves to, Roxanne thought. And he knew what he was doing; in a matter of minutes he had her on the verge of orgasm. She hovered there, her breath growing shallower, her heart beating faster, until he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Holy shit, don't stop," she panted.

He took a couple of deep breaths while unbuckling his pants. Rhonda handed him the condom, then put her hand between her legs and fingered her clit while he put it on.

He took hold of her legs just above her knees and pulled her forward, until her ass was at the edge of the hood, and with one smooth motion, buried the length of his cock inside her.

"Ooooooh fuck," Rhonda moaned.

Bryant leaned forward and put his hands down on either side of her head. He rocked his hips, pumping into her with a strong and steady rhythm. She grasped his firm biceps and wrapped her legs around his back.

A drop of his sweat fell from his forehead and landed on her lips. She ran her tongue over it, tasting it's saltiness. He opened his eyes and her gaze met his. There was a beautiful blissfulness in his expression, and when the corners of his mouth curled into a smile, she felt all the coiled sexual tension in her body release in a crescendo of pleasure.

She stared up into the clear blue spring sky and let out a long series of whimpers that seemed to spur Bryant to greater effort, and his orgasm followed quickly behind hers. He shuddered, and went limb, dropping his body on to hers.

Rhonda hugged him, and stroked his head until he caught his breath and rose back up.

He looked down at her, and she saw the lingering traces of that blissful expression, and he exhaled in a loud puff, and said, "Wow."

"Yeah, wow," she giggled.

Bryant turned and took her hands, helping her sit up. The front of her dress was damp with their mixed perspiration. She watched him remove the condom, then reached down and squeezed his now flaccid cock.

"Good job," she said, giving it a playful shake.

"What do I do with this?" he asked, holding up the condom.

"You could have it bronzed and keep it for a souvenir."

He laughed, then got up and went to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Rhonda saw her panties in the grass, slipped down off the car and went to retrieve them. As she was pulling them on, she saw Bryant coming back to the front of the car, holding a chamois cloth. She watched with amusement as he used it to polish the hood, but a small voice in her head say, this might turn into something real, but he is never going to love me as much as he loves that car.

When he finished he looked at her and said, "You can tell how much I like you, because normally, I wouldn't't even let anybody sit on my car."

She skipped over to him and kissed his cheek. "So, next time, I'll sit on something else."

They got back in the car and Bryant carefully drove back to the main road.

"Where to now?" he asked, as he prepared to turn on to the highway.

Rhonda didn't hesitate. "Ice cream. There is nothing better after sex than ice cream."

"Except more sex."

"I like the way you think, fella. But for now, ice cream."

CHAPTER FIVE

Kayla sat at her dresser and laid out two neat lines of cocaine on her hand mirror. She picked up her glass straw, and inhaled one line into each nostril. It was five minutes til two. Reynold had said he would be over at two, and he was always on time. She slipped on her heels and stood, posing in front of the dresser's mirror. She turned and looked over her shoulder. The bottoms of her butt cheeks just showed under the hem of her babydoll nightie. Good, she thought, that's just how he likes it.

She went to the living room and opened the liquor cabinet. She uncapped the bottle of Chivas Regal and poured an inch into a shot glass, then took two cubes from the ice bucket and plunked them in. There was just time to take one last look around the room. On Reynold's last visit, there had been a wadded up Marlboro pack in the wastebasket. Luckily, he hadn't seen it, because he didn't smoke, and he knew that she did not, either. She'd have to be more careful about leaving evidence of other visitors where he might discover it. He paid the rent, he made the rules.

Right on time, there was a knock on the door. Kayla went over, took a second to practice her starry eyed expression, then opened it.

"Hello, Daddy," she cooed as Reynold stepped into the apartment. Before he could even shut the door, she handed him the glass of Chivas, draped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

"How's my kitten?" he said, returning her kiss and squeezing her ass with his free hand.

"I'm happy now," she said, pressing her thigh against his crotch.

He patted her ass and led her over to the couch. He swallowed the Scotch and sat down, while she went to pour him another. She bought it back and handed it to him, then dropped to her knees in front of him. Bending down, she untied and slipped off first one, then the other, of his shoes.

"How has your day been going?" she asked.

"Busy." He loosened his tie.

She climbed into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. "I can help you relax, daddy," she whispered.

He took a sip of Scotch, then set it on the end table. Kayla ran her hand over his chest, then leaned over, pulled out the front of his shirt pocket, looked inside, then turned her face up to his with an exaggerated pout.

"You didn't bring me a present?" she whimpered.

"Oh, kitten, I've been too busy to go shopping, but after while, take a look at your Amazon account, alright?"

She smiled, and spun around to straddle his lap. "Oh, you're the sweetest daddy there is," she said, planting a big kiss on his mouth.

He put his hands on her back and held her close. She opened her mouth and he thrust his tongue inside it. She sucked on it like it was a small penis. When she pressed down on his lap, she could feel a slightly larger one beneath her.

Reynold dropped his face toward her breasts and pulled the top of her negligee down to expose them. He squeezed her tits roughly and sucked hard on her nipples. Kayla ran her fingers through his hair and wondered what he might have bought for her on Amazon.

His hands slipped under the back of her panties. I hope it's one of those K-cup coffee makers, she thought. How many times did I tell him I want one? When he began to finger her pussy, she remembered to moan.

She gyrated on his lap, raising her hands and locking them behind her head, causing her tits to thrust forward. Reynold picked up his scotch and finished it off while watching her. After a moment, he set the glass back down, and unbuckled his belt. Kayla rose off his lap and helped him tug with slacks and underwear down below his knees. His cock was bouncing up and down. Kayla placed her knees on either side of his hips, took hold of it, and guided it into her pussy.