Autumn winds

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A stripper gets blown away by someone not of this world.
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It seemed to Nichelle that an autumn day could not have dawned any more perfectly than this one had. The sun shone down brightly and reflected beautifully off the gleaming blue waters of the mountain lake that she had set her tent by the previous evening. Early morning bird calls filled the clean, cool air and left her feeling magnificently refreshed. Murmuring one of her favorite songs to herself, she went about the business of breaking camp and began her hike back to her Land Rover, parked 5 miles away. No more than an hour later, she had stowed her gear in the back of her ride and was buckling herself in, headed for home. After all, today was Monday and she had to be in town for work. Not that she felt any joy from that particular thought. Shaking her ass for money, was not the dream job she had always assumed it would be, but it more than paid her bills and helped pay for schooling so it would do for now.

Three hours later, she pulled into the parking space in front of her weather-beaten brownstone. "Home again, woo-hoo." she mumbled to herself, a slight grin on her pixie-ish face.

A long hot shower, a big cup of chamomile tea and she was more than ready to lay back down. It was all ready noon, and she had to work a 9 hour shift tonight, starting at 6pm.

When she arrived at the club, she noted that no-one seemed to be around. Of course, this early in the evening, it was always that way. Most guys would not even attempt to come out until after dinner with their families or girlfriends. She headed to the dressing rooms, carrying her pack.

About 9pm, business began to pick-up. Nichelle was one of those rare strippers who waited tables between sets. It augmented her dance money and gave her time to simply pretend she was not one of those hoochie girls on stage. It was while she was making the rounds that she felt the weight of someone's stare upon her back.

Nichelle turned around, and locked eyes with a man who had an utterly beguiling smile and killer green eyes. Being a dark-skinned half latino, half black female, she wasn't so sure that he was actually gazing at her. Turning around quickly, she noticed no other females in her general vicinity and so decided to head his way.

"Hello love, can I help you?" she asked quietly, her mother's Spanish accent adding colour to her words.

"Oui, ma petite. I would like a shot, Sloe Gin. The color is so very pretty, non?" The gentleman had an accent, like French a la New Orleans. The tone and slow romantic way he spoke sent chills straight up her spine, and amazingly wetted her slit.

"I have never had it, love. But I will get it for you."

Nichelle walked slowly away, her high, rounded ass and hips giving a little more shake than normal as she walked over to the bar and gave Tony, the bartender, her orders.

After making the rounds, she returned once more to the gentleman's table, bearing his shot of Sloe Gin, which was thick and deeply reddish, sort of like blood. He greeted her with a charming smile, his eyes lingering upon her face, unlike most guys who come to strip clubs.

She stood there, talking quietly with him, until finally it was time for her next set. With a small frown, she strode back to the changing area and put on her next outfit, a white lace and velvet form-fitting dress. Once she hit the stage she became her persona...Morgana.

Wrapping her legs around the pole that stood to the left of the stage, she swung, allowing her long black hair to fly free. Staring out into the crowd, she locked eyes with that of the new customer, performing solely for him. Unzipping the dress, she slid it slowly down, allowing it to caress her breasts, her hips, her legs. He smiled at her, standing up and moving closer to the stage, until finally he was seated right in front of her.

And yet no matter what she did, caressing her ass, licking her nipples, spreading her thighs and patting her completely shaved pussy, she could not get him to look any where but her face. Eventually she had to work the rest of the stage, collecting 5's and 10's from the other men (and one woman) seated there.

When she finally made it back to her original customer, he held up a 20. She stuck out her left thigh, where a white leather strip held her tips. he inserted it gently and with a smile, he arose. Nichelle saw him no more for the rest of the night.

It was close to 3:30 before Nichelle strolled out to her car, once more in her street clothes: ripped jeans, ny sweat shirt and a beat up leather trench and timberlands. She stopped soon enough, once she heard a soft voice call her name.

"Nichelle, wait one moment, si vous plais."

Of course, she turned and saw, standing by a black Eclipse, the customer from earlier in the evening.

"I just wanted to know if you would like to go for a ride. I would like to learn more about you, without all those extra things...like naked bodies or loud, obnoxious music. Would you like to come?" His soft request, sweetly asked, made her smile.

"Sure."

Within moments she was seated on a plush velour seat, giggling softly as she listened to him curse the car in melodic french, which was giving him problems. Eventually, the car came to life and they drove out of the lot, leaving her car behind.

He took her to a small estate, located on the outskirts of town. "I hope you do not mind accompanying me to my humble home." A sly grin was flashed her way, along with sparkling green eyes.

"Humble, yeah, right." she giggled in return.

An hour later, Nichelle was being slowly caressed. Her thighs lay gaped open and a well placed hand covered her clit and lips, pressing gently in a circular motion that had her hips heaving. Lips slowly explored her throat, her breasts, her mouth. At one point, Nichelle felt a slight sting on her left breast, but the pleasure that arose was so intense that she promptly forgot about it, as she came.

She helped ease him out of his confining clothes, gasping in pleasure at the sheer beauty of his physique. With a gentle kiss, he reached back and loosened his hair, which flowed around them like living blonde silk.

Nichelle then took the lead, licking and kissing down his stomach until she reached the head of his half erect penis. Sucking it gently into her mouth, she swallowed at the same time so that he ended up deep in her throat. Caressing the base with her tongue, she soon felt him begin to pulse. He grasped her head and jerked her up by her hair.

"Non, petite, we must have some protection."

Arising gracefully from the couch, he pulled a silver foil from his pant pocket. Opening and unrolling the condom took but an instant and then he rejoined her on the black velour sofa, an impish grin on his face.

He began again, licking, kissing, caressing. Her harsh breaths soon resounded from the walls. After what seemed an eternity, she felt his lips on her shaved pussy. He suckled her clit, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue. A small pain, as if a tooth had nicked her, and then he was back to sucking, strong and steady, sending her into another orgasm. He inserted his tongue deeply into her snatch, slurping and suckling as if he had not eaten in weeks. It was not long before he brought her to the edge and over, once more.

Finally, he reared up, his mouth shiny and slightly reddened. Placing his cock at her entrance, he gave a small push and soon entered her completely. She moaned, he lifted her legs to his shoulders and began a deep, slow stroke, connecting with her swollen clit on every in and out. With his eyes changing color, from green to blue, whispering romantic sounding french words into her ears, biting and nibbling on her neck, Nichelle soon came and then she fainted. The feeling was just too intense to maintain awake.

Nichelle came out of her swoon, seated in the front seat of her Rover. The sun was shining into her front window and her thighs, neck and breasts thumped alarmingly. Inserting her key into the ignition, she started the jeep and headed for home though her mind tried furiously to recall how she had gotten back to her car.

When she pulled up to the front of her house, she noticed a pale beige envelope on the seat next to her. She grabbed her bag and went inside, waiting to open the note until she was safely inside.

"Petite: Thank you for a lovely evening. I hope that it was as fulfilling for you as it was for me. Since I never introduced myself properly, I will do so now. My name is Jean-Marc Baptiste. Please do not be alarmed by your arrival to your car, I placed you there when it became obvious you would not awaken. I will be to your job tonight. So until then, au revoir."

A smile graced Nichelle's lips for one moment before she placed the note on an end table and headed for her room. A bath was definately in order. After all, the way her body felt, it seemed she had been eaten alive, in more ways than one. And if she had anything to say about it, than it was guaranteed she would feel that way again.

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