Dancing Queen Ch. 2: Casual Relationship [M/F]

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=== ***Queen*** ===

I’ve been looking for him, waiting. It’s been a couple of weeks since that night, and my pussy aches for him. Sure, I’ve had a couple of VIPs, but every time I perform for them, I picture him there. Every time they fuck me, I imagine his Herculean cock thrusting into me. It worked for a bit, and I was able to trigger, or actually trick, my brain into believing it’s him. That it’s his cock inside of me. His girthy, veiny manhood. I actually came a couple of times. But as time went on, it got harder and harder. I need a fix. I needed him.

I still haven’t let anyone else cum inside me, or kiss me, other than Bryn.

Every time I’m on the stage, I look over the crowd, expecting to see that button up shirt, black rimmed glasses, and khaki pants. Every night, I am disappointed, and I force myself to perform.

Depression finally sets in, and the realization that I’ll never see Bryn again became more and more real. I took a week off from stripping, its actually not hard because we are able to freely work whenever we want. It’s actually liberating!

I’m able to hang up the wig, letting my soft, brunette hair down, and actually wear some regular clothing. I can actually pull off a “normal” look.

Outside, no one knows me as Queen. When the wig is off and I’m not wearing G-String panties and fishnet stockings, I’m simply called Kimberly. I try to keep both identities separate, and so far, no one knows I’m a stripper. I like to go to the park, sit on the bench and read a book. I like walking on the beach at sunset, or bike rides when the morning is fresh, and the air is crisp.

I like basic white girl shit, sue me.

I’m obsessed with Bryn. Every night, I touch myself with memories of what he did to me. I want to relive it, experience it again. I want him. I want to see him again!

A day or so into my week off, I started frequenting the library. There’s a pretty big one near the center of the city, amongst shopping centers and boutiques. I used to go here when I was a teenager, borrowing books and reading up on poetry and the likes. Such a simple time, how did that cute little girl turn into Mars Lancet’s main attraction?

But then, I hear something. That somewhat deep tone voice. The flat octave, and a sort of droll way of talking.

I walked around, stalking the hallways, trying to find the source. My ears lead me towards the front where I see him! Bryn! I wanted to run up to him. I wanted to leap into his arms.

But I’m Kimberly, and not Queen.

I took a book and walked up behind him, trying to listen in on the conversation. It seems that there’s some books that he’s been wanting to check out that’s *still* out, and there’s nothing they can do.

“I understand, now if you’ll excuse me,” he said with a downtrodden tone. He turned and walked passed me, “hey, Queen, it’s been a while,” he said nonchalantly as he walked past.

I’m shook.

“Wa-wa-wait, you can tell it’s me!?” I damn near shouted but then I remembered where I am.

“I can. Your figure and face is the same, minus the wig of course. Are you here to check out some books?”

“I-I-I am, I was, I mean, why haven’t you come back to the club!?”

He continued walking and I kept the pace with him. It seems he rented out a room where he can read in silence and in private. It’s simply a chair and a table, and a small fan, and that’s it.

“I meant to go back, but I needed to do some more research. There are several more positions I’d like to try, along with other things I hope you can help with.”

Oh? Is he already proposing some sexy time with me?

“I’m especially curious about threesomes.”

“Threesomes!? No, no, no! You are not allowed to have a threesome!” I shouted, then I felt some judgmental eyes on me. I tucked my head in and walked behind him until we got to the room. He punched the code in and opened it for me.

“Why can’t I have a threesome?” He asked as soon as his butt hits the chair. There’s only one chair, so I’m forced to sit on the edge of the table.

“B-B-Because! Um…. Because, you should enjoy regular sex first and then you move onto threesomes!”

He rubbed his chin and nodded. “I see. It makes sense. I should increase my experience with one partner first, before asking for another. You’re a fairly wise person.”

He opened up some books and started reading. First, it was a knock-off kamasutra. He flipped each page and then moved on, seemingly immersed in reading, grumbling along as his finger traced each words.

Meanwhile, I’m getting bored! “Say, Bryn, would you like to have sex again?”

It felt a little odd saying those things while not in my Queen get-up. I’m not wearing a g-string, a fishnet top and stockings, and wearing a blonde wig. No. Instead, I have a purple low-cut tank top with a black, light jacket, black leggings and boots.

“I would, but I don’t have anything I would like to try out.”

“W-Well, um… well, you know what they say, right? Practice makes perfect!”

His eyes perked up as he adjusted his glasses. “I see. You’re correct again! How did I not see this lapse in judgement! I was so engrossed in acquiring more things to practice, that I forgot something so fundamental!”

He looked at his watch, and then his phone. “Ah, but who to practice with! I’m sure you would want your time to be reimbursed. I do not have the money with me right now, however.”

“It’s my day off, and for you I’ll do it for free. You should count yourself so lucky that I’m allowing you to spend time with Queen! Be grateful!”

“Oh, I most certainly am! But where to go. Hmm… a hotel perhaps?”

I pulled him into my lips and his eyes shot wide open. “Silly boy, we can just do it here. You can flip the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and we won’t be bothered.”

“Once again, you’re right! It seems that the obvious escapes me every time.” He smacked his forehead and laughed lightly. He went over to the door and flipped a switch on the keypad.

“I… um… I’m almost ashamed to ask, but how do we *start* having sex? I imagine we do not simply go straight to the actual intercourse.”

“Well,” I started as I moved next to him. I sat on his lap and his hand instinctively went for my hip and lap, “for starters we do some foreplay. It can be kissing and some touching, and it usually progress to oral.”

“Foreplay, you say. Interesting. I seem to have glossed over that part and went straight for the intercourse last time. I’m almost ashamed to admit that.”

I leaned down onto his sweet lips. “Stick your tongue out a bit,” I told him and he did just that. I gently kissed it with my lips, and then he did the same with mine. I stuck my tongue down his mouth and our tongues intertwined and mingled.

His hands went up my shirt and his thumb started to rub my nipples. The hand that was on my hip started to gently rub my ass.

“You’re starting off well,” I told him and he just laughed softly.

“I have a good teacher. I remembered from last time.”

He bunched my shirt above my breast and he started to suck and kiss my tits. By this time I’ve spread my legs around him and straddled him, watching him suck and lick my tits.

“Keep going, keep going,” I moaned and he nodded. I happen to like getting my tits licked, nibbled and bit. I especially like when it gets sucked roughly.

“Let me know if I’m doing something you don’t like,” he said and kudos to him for thinking of me. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Honey, I show my pussy to people for a living. Not a lot of things make me uncomfortable.” I smirked. I lied; a lot of things still makes me uncomfortable. Being pushy, being too familiar or touchy, and calling me a pet name when I barely a person is my turn off. So far, he hasn’t done any of those things. Meanwhile, I’ve called him “honey” and “baby”.

I moved myself down between his legs and tugged at those familiar khaki pants, and finally his beast came out from hiding. “There it is,” I said with joy as my hands wrapped around it. “Have you measured it?”

“I haven’t. I think it might be in poor taste for me to do so.”

I kind of agreed. Some of the men I’ve been with, the ones with bigger dicks, would use that as a talking point. They think they’re hot shit just because they have a 9 in her, but they barely last 20 minutes.

From my point of view, I think it’s about 11 inches, give or take. The girth is, maybe 7 inches around. It’s certainly big, that’s for sure.

I looked at him while my tongue came down and flicked the sensitive head. I stroked the shaft and cradled the balls, while my mouth went around the head and slurped up his delicious precum.

“A question, if I may. What do I do with my hands? I feel the need to do something, but nothing comes to mind.”

I giggled softly. “Most men would brush my face, like you did before. That’s nice and intimate, I liked it. Now, you could push my head down deeper, or hold my head steady while you fuck my face.”

“I see,” he said while rubbing his chin, “which would be appropriate right now?“

“I think being gentle is a good start, then you could be a little more forceful,” I said with a wink. I bit the head softly and he leaped a little from the sharp pinch, and I started kissing his head. His fingers brushed against my cheeks and the side of my face, and I leaned in against his warm hand. It felt soothing, calming even, and I liked that.

But he didn’t progress into the “forceful” part. Instead, he just let me enjoy his dick. Most men would have gone straight for the throat fucking, but he has the presence of mind to let me do my thing. That little act tugged at my heartstring.

My throat isn’t used to his size. Yet. I’ve taken some big dicks and I’ve had no problem deepthroating them, but his cock triggers my gag reflex, which I thought I tamed. So, for the mean time, I just get him to the back of my throat and that’s that. He seems to enjoy it, but he doesn’t really say much though.

“Do you know what a titty fuck is?” I said with excitement, and he tilted his head a bit.

“I’ve read about it, and I meant to ask. Would you mind demonstrating?”

I smiled. I grabbed and squeezed my tits and separated then, then leaned forward, pushed them together, and picked his meat log up. Tit fucking is one of my specialties because I have the third largest breast in the club.

“So, I use my breast to stroke your cock. But your big enough that I can do that and bend down and suck on the head.”

I demonstrated what I meant, and he hissed when I sucked on his cock head. “Would you like me to go on?”

“Please, if you would continue,” he said eagerly. I smiled and started bouncing up and down, and letting his frenulum get acquainted with my tongue. He moaned and hissed, and he grunts and groans. He hasn’t done that before, well not from foreplay anyway.

“If-if you continue, I’m afraid I’ll ejaculate. So it’d be wise to stop.” He stammered for a bit. Oh, he’s not lasting as long this time. Normally I’d be pissed, but I kind of think I owe it to him. He did made me cum so many times.

Besides, finding a weak point is pretty crucial. Titty fucking seems to be just that.

I, of course, didn’t stop. I dropped more and more saliva down his shaft so it’s nice and slick, and redoubled my efforts with the head. “C’mon, c’mon baby. Cum for me. Shoot that cum inside my mouth.”

I kept sucking and sucking until he rewarded me with his thick, hot cum that seems to cling to my throat and the roof of my mouth. It’s so thick and intoxicating, and the smell just invades my nose. He gave me more and more, and he bucked up and forward, and his grunts became deeper and deeper.

I made sure to swallow it all. I love the taste, how it’s a little sweet and salty. It’s thickness really made my stomach full. When he was done depositing his week’s worth of cum in my stomach, I kissed the head a couple of times.

“Your cum is delicious,” I told him, and I made a show of my collected prize in my mouth. I made sure he saw it and gulped it down. “Now, how about lunch?”

“It seems having your breast sandwich my penis is a trigger for me,” he sighed, “that’s interesting.”

He looked up to find my ass in front of his face. I bent over and slid my leggings down and my boots off.

“Now, Bryn, to continue our foreplay, you know what to do here right?“

“I remember. Allow me, then.”

He gave my ass a few slaps, increasing in intensity, then he spreads my lower lips apart. When the slaps rang out, it made me flinch and the pain made me feel so good. I felt his tongue enter me and twirled around inside of me. I looked between my leg, and I could see his cock, still hard, twitch and a few globs of white cum gathered at the tip.

“Mmm, Bryn, how about I do my favorite positions. How does that sound?”

“It sounds reasonable. I don’t have a preferred position yet, so it would make sense for us to use yours.”

I stood up straight and approached him. I still have my shirt on, bunched up over my tits, and my light jacket.

“You’re not going to remove your jacket?” He asked, and I shook my head no.

“Sometimes, article of clothing’s left behind adds to the flavor of the encounter. A skirt, a jacket, a blouse, a garter, socks, those things add to the experience. Costumes also does the same thing.”

He took a moment to digest my words. “Costumes? I’m not so sure about that. It’s all interesting, it really is. I will need further research on this.”

He sat back and I reached between my legs for his cock, points it up and I promptly sat on it slowly. Painfully slow. So slow that his upturned head was rubbing roughly against me.

“If-If you’d like, the next time we do this you can text me about any request. Free of charge, as long as it’s not when I’m working.”

I can’t believe I’m going to give him my personal number. No one has my personal number. I have a business number that I use for work, and one for my private life.

“I would appreciate that,” he said while huffing, “and perhaps I can ask you some questions too.”

What am I doing? Why am I doing this? I barely know him, and yet I’m doing more for him that I’ve done for my oldest clients. I can’t believe I’m breaking a few of my personal rules, over some really good dick!

I leaned forward while bouncing my ass up and down. He kept his hands on my ass, squeezing and kneading it.

“What do you call this position?” He asks.

“Reverse Cowgirl,” I answered. It’s not my favorite, but it’s how I like to get started. I love how his cock feels inside of me. I love how it makes my mind go wild. I love how it rubs me just right, and more, and I love how it throbs.

“N-Now, I’m going to show you a trick.”

I swung my leg over his own and twist my torso, so my pussy basically churns while it surrounds him. He nearly yelled and he held onto my waist, panting really hard.

“That… you’re rubbing the frenulum so hard.” In truth, I felt myself cum again because the thick, helmet head just rubbed me right.

I finished the little spin and I had to catch my breath. I’m sitting on his lap, with my legs around his hips, and my pussy swallowing his cock. “Th-This is cowgirl,” I explained, and he nods, “and it’s my favorite position. Would you like to know why?”

He nodded again, “please explain.”

“Because I’m in control in this position. I can control how fast we fuck, how deep and when we take a break. In this position, I’m the dominant one.”

“I see. It certainly makes sense, seeing as you have complete control. Very well, if you would be so kind as to demonstrate.”

The chair is wide enough that I can put my feet on it, but not my knees. He kept his hand under, cupping my ass, while I squat on his cock. The tremendous pleasure he’s giving me is making my head spin! I am really enjoying it, and my delicate moans and prayers to a deity I don’t even believe in is proof of it.

“I understand the appeal of this, but you’re not in total control.” He said, “would you allow me to demonstrate?”

In my pleasure filled head, I agreed to his statement. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but I’m slightly curious to what it is.

Well, he pulled me onto him until we’re face to face, and he held the small of my back down. Then, he proceeds to hastily fuck me.

“Oooh, Bryn! You’re tearing me apart! Oh gosh, oh god, oh god oh god oh gosh oh goddd!”

He wrapped his lips against mine in an effort to silence me. We kissed while he fucked me fast and hard. I came maybe three big ones, each lasting a couple of minutes, and several small ones that last a handful of seconds. By the time he was winded, and he kept it for a long time, I was laying on top of him and drooling.

“Queen? Queen!? Speak to me!”

“So… good. Oh… oh god… my p-pussy… my pussy loves your dick…”

He sighed and laid back, rubbing my back gently. He waited until I came back to my head and the intense orgasms simmered down.

“That was so intense,” I said with a laugh, “was that one of from your research?”

“Well I figured there is no sexual positions, outside of bondage, that grants total domination. But I find cowgirl enjoyable, simply because I can still interact with you.”

“You like it because you can kiss me?” I clarified and he nods.

“It would appear so. Social cues are my weak spot, so the more I can tell of your raw emotions the better.”

I understood that answer, but something still stuck out to me. “And the kiss? Besides the foreplay, what was that about?”

He kind of sighed and rubbed my back again. “I’m not sure if you remember, but we’re in a library and you were starting to get loud. I happen to like this place and it would be most unfortunate if I am not allowed to return.”

I laughed softly. He’s right. But why does it feel like I was hoping for a different answer.

We laid there for a good amount of time, matching each other’s breathing. I asked him a few personal questions that he didn’t seem to mind answering, while he asked me simple questions about sex in general. Should he wear a condom? I answered that it’s up to him and the girl. Pulling out? Again, it’s up to him and the girl. Anal? While I would like to do it with him, I made it clear that ample preparations is needed.

Meanwhile, I learned that he owns his own home and his parents live next door to him, he doesn’t really drive because he likes to watch people, but he does have a car. He likes to read books, and he likes to go to the mall and people watch. He wants to overcome his weakness, that’s why he does a lot of research.

“Should we stop here?” He asked and I nodded. I feel like starting again after sharing more intimate details about one another will kill the mood.

He helped me up on my wobbly legs, and he even held my leggings open for me to slip my legs in. He held me close as we walked out, but not before making sure we didn’t make a complete mess in there, and surprisingly enough we didn’t!

“Oh, before I forget!”

I grabbed his phone and made it face him, so it unlocks. Then, I used it to call my phone. From my phone, I called his phone and then handed it back to him.

“My name is Kimberly by the way. You can call me Kim. No one outside of works knows what I do so I would appreciate it if you try not to call me Queen in public.”

“I will try not to, but it will be hard. I’ve already put the name to your face.”

I just laughed. He walked me out, holding me by my waist, and we made some small talk. For a guy who has Asperger’s, he’s fairly social. Maybe he just had to get comfortable with someone.

===

It’s been a week since the library and Bryn STILL hasn’t called me! He hasn’t visited the club, he hasn’t done ANYTHING!

So I rang him up, and I’m fuming. When he picked up, I laid it on him.

“Are you playing with me? Are you? I gave you my number so you can call me, and you haven’t!”

“Queen? Hello, I’m sorry I haven’t called you in a while. I’ve been busy lately.”

He sounded tired. He sounded worn out. He gave me a tired laugh and I can tell he’s trying to pick himself back up.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry for getting angry.”

“No, no, it’s quite understandable. I wasn’t quite sure what the social protocol is, and I’ve been debating with myself. I heard about waiting for 3 days. I also heard about waiting a week. I was going to call you today, but work has been kind of rough.”

I hadn’t noticed it, but my fingers are around my hair, twirling it around. I decided to extend my vacation for a couple more days, seeing as I haven’t taken one in the three years since I started. The girls at the club didn’t mind because it gave them more opportunities to be on stage, and for the VIPs to pick them.

“Um… Bryn, do you want to meet up?”

Wait, am I doing a booty call? I am!

“Tonight? I can.”

My heart jumped and I dashed over to my dresser. “What would you like for me to wear?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t feel right telling you what to wear, Queen. Just wear what you feel like wearing.”

What *do* I feel like wearing, anyway? I looked through my clothes and I arranged them on my bed. I looked down to find three different sets of clothes that I sort of *feel* like wearing.

One is a long sleeve crop top with the midriff cut off, a short skirt and a black thong, with knee high socks.

The other one is a low-cut tank top and leggings. Simple and plain.

The last is my little black dress that I wear for special night out.

On one hand I want to feel cute, but I didn’t want to try hard. On the other hand, I want to look like I’m putting on extra effort for him too. I mean, I am but I don’t want to look like it.

“Um… okay, I’ll see you in an hour then!”

===

I ended up wearing the crop top and skirt ensemble.

I didn’t know where we’re meeting, just that we are. He wanted to first meet at a coffee shop, so of course now I’m kind of guessing that I should’ve went with the tank top and leggings combo.

When I got there, he’s already sitting inside and sipping his coffee. He got up as soon as he saw me, and he gave me a hug and I gave him a quick kiss on the cheeks.

“You know, usually you wait for the other person, *then* you both order coffee,” I smiled, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m not familiar with proper protocol! This is my first cup, but I can order some more.”

I looked at him, looked at what he’s wearing. It’s obvious he put some thought into it. He’s wearing a vest over a neatly pressed white button up shirt, black slacks and he has his hair combed well and styled. He’s not wearing the black rimmed glasses and, I assume, he’s got contacts on.

It felt… weird. For some reason, I prefer how he usually dresses himself.

“What are you wearing?” I asked and he looked himself up.

“I thought it would be appropriate to present myself in a style to your liking. Perhaps I’m wrong?”

He looked at me with a sort of expectant eyes and I just scoffed for a bit. “Bryn, I think you’re trying a little too hard. Just be yourself.”

He looked himself over again, “be myself…? Huh. When opportunities arise, I usually wouldn’t want to be myself.”

“Why is that?” I asked and he sighed a bit.

“Interacting with other people causes me a great deal of confusion and stress. I have to process the words they’re telling me, and at the same time trying to process the non-verbal cues and facial expression. So, in a 5-minute conversation, I’m usually worn out mentally.”

I kinda see his point, “Bryn, you need to leave work at work. As soon as you clock out, or whatever, just sit in your car for a minute and collect yourself.”

He nodded slightly as he digests my words. “I think your right. I need to learn how to do just that. Maybe next time.”

Then his eyes lit up, “oh, right, coffee!”

He ran over to the trash can and tossed his cup in, then he came up to me and held his hand out. I gave him a smile and took his hand on my own and we walked over to the counter.

I didn’t realize that we were holding hands. I didn’t realize that I started to feel warm and fuzzy. I didn’t realize that my heart started to race.

Am I crushing on him!? Me!? I’ve never felt like this before, well not since high school with the quarterback. But am I!?

Well, a girl can only act tough for so long. I don’t even think he realized he’s been holding my hand since he helped me up, but I’m not going to let go. I’ll hold onto these feelings until he does.

“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t realize I’ve been holding onto your hand for a while,” he said as his grip on my hand went soft and he let me go. I felt a little sad that he did, and I wanted it back, but at the same time, I didn’t want to initiate.

This is complicated.

He ordered his drink, which is actually just hot chocolate, and I ordered mine. I’m surprised he agreed to a coffee meet up and *not* order coffee.

“I don’t really drink coffee,” he said as we stood around, waiting. “It’s not the taste or anything, I don’t like how it affects my heart rate.”

“It makes your heart flutter?” I asked and he nodded as he took another sip. “Mmm, what else makes your heart flutter?”

I’m obviously laying it on a little thick here, but he took a moment. “Well, if you mean excitement then seeing a perfect line of code makes me smile.”

Oh, he works with computers! Wait, that’s not what I should focus on!

“Anything else?” I asked, irritation is obviously in there. “Anything… recent?”

“Recent? Well, I recently came across a picture of a Siberian Husky puppy. Those are my favorite puppy’s because they are small, fluffy, obnoxiously loud and clumsy.”

Aww, a puppy! Wait, reign it in girl!

I sat back on the chair, crossed my legs and my arms over my chest, puffed my cheeks and looked away. I have a *Hmph* and his head tilts for a second.

“Crossed arms… that means defensive. Looking away… obviously you don’t want to look at me, and the puffed cheeks are meant to intimidate. You were leaning towards me earlier, but now you’re leaning away… oh no.”

I heard him grumble and his eyes dashed from left to right. “Your angry! At what? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Hmph” was all the noise I made.

“Was it because I didn’t compliment your clothes? It does look good on you, but I’m afraid I’ll come across as too forward if I give you my opinion. Was it because I didn’t order for you? I didn’t want to assume what you wanted, and I don’t know what your dietary restrictions are or allergies.”

Okay, I started to get worried. I relaxed my stance, maybe he’ll calm down?

“Was it because I held onto your hand for too long? It felt comfortable to me, but obviously I didn’t take your feeling into consideration.”

He suddenly stood up and I can see the stress in his eyes. “B-Bryn, wait it’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“Was it because I assumed you would have approved of my clothing? I thought it looked fine I mean, my sister said it was fine. But I assumed again!”

In a panic, he rushed out of the door. I tried to tell him, I tried to, but he went and left. I followed him with my eyes, and he got into a blue sports car.

I can see him, and I can see his mouth still moving. I looked around to see people’s eyes are on me, silently judging me. I’m never one to give a shit about what other people think, but for some reason this it’s different. They’re not judging me for my lifestyle or my clothes, they’re judging me about what I just did.

I picked up my coffee and his hot cocoa and left and made my way towards his car. I gently knocked on the window, and I can see he’s still talking. I knocked a little more and he finally noticed me and I hear the door unlock.

“I apologize for leaving abruptly,” he said out of breath, “I, um… making someone angry is something I try not to do.”

I slid myself into the passenger seat and placed his coffee in the cup holder.

He took a deep breath, “I’m thinking at what I probably did wrong, and I’m not finding the reason. However, I did find several things that may have contributed to it. I apologize for not thinking of you.”

What? He’s apologizing for not thinking of me? What the hell?

“Did you drive here? If it’s not too forward of me, would you like me to drop you off in a relatively safe distance to your home?”

“What!? Bryn, what are you talking about!?”

He shrugged for a bit. “Am I wrong in assuming that, since you’ve gotten upset, that our meet up is over?”

“Bryn, would you calm the fuck down? I’m not angry, jeez! I’m only slightly upset!”

“You’re not? But all the signs are there that indicates that you were more than just slightly upset.”

I laughed a little. “Bryn, I was just kidding with you. I was a little upset, okay, because when I was asking if your heart beats a little faster, well, you didn’t mention me.”

“I see. But, Queen, you and I are not romantically involved…. right? Am I correct in assuming that we’re not?”

Oh now the ball is in my court. Now I have to be the one to admit if we are or are not. Honestly speaking, he’s been a complete darling to me. Respectful and kid, and he doesn’t even force me for anything. I’ve been the one looking for him and wanting him.

“Well, what do you think? Do you think we are?”

He thought about it for a bit. “I’m not sure what the answer is, considering your occupation. By your admittance, you have intercourse with men as part your job. So, I’m really not sure what to feel unless I hear it from you.”

I thought I threw the ball back over to his side, but now it’s back in mine. And he’s right. Because of what I do, he’s not really sure what to think. But I have another plan.

“Well, Bryn, think about it like this for a moment: I’m here, with you, on my day off. I haven’t charged you any money. Finally, I even told you my real name. What does that tell you?”

Again, he thought about it, trying to put the puzzle together. “I can safely assume that I’m in a more intimate place with you. But forgive me, I still need a detailed answer.”

God damn, he really wants me to say it!

“Fine! Bryn, I like you, alright! I like you, like a lot! After the first time you and I had sex, I couldn’t stop thinking about you! All the guys since then couldn’t match your intensity. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you held me, or the way you kissed me, okay! Are you happy now!?”

Again, he thought about it. “By intensity, what did you mean by that?”

“Ugh, you really want me to say it!? You fucked me so hard that no one else came close! Every guy that I took in the VIP room could barely last 10 minutes, so I had to force myself to imagine I was getting fucked by you! When I go to sleep, and I touch myself, I imagine it’s you touching me. Now, do you need me to spell it out for you!?”

He was silent, then a smile crept up the side of his face. “Are you saying you like me?”

“I did. I literally did, now wipe that goofy smile off your face!”

Well, I leaned in over the console and kissed him.

His hand went up to the side of my face, rubbing me gently. He tasted sweet, like the hot cocoa he drank, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

When we finally parted, he breathes in a little quicker.

“What’s the proper etiquette for this?”

“Hotel,” I said breathlessly, “now!”

He didn’t drive like a horny maniac, but he was quick though. I started rubbing his crotch a little and he took my hand and kissed it. He paid for the hotel, not luxurious or anything, not that I’m complaining.

We made out in the elevator, and we skirt the wall while we made our way to the room.

“I’m not sure what to do in this situation,” he admitted.

“Well, first of all you open the door to our room,” I giggled and took the keycard from him and slid it into the slot. “Then, you decide to either take the lead or let me take the lead.”

“Now, I would prefer if you took the lead,” I told him, “I think you’re ready.”

He took my hand, and we went into the room. “I just need to put into practice the things you taught me and the things I’ve read.”

“Exactly! You got this!”

I’m taller than him, and it’s fairly obvious; however, height has never been a deal breaker for me. Attitude and personality are my deal breaker. I’ve even refused to go into the VIP room with someone, who already paid for my time, simply because they called me a bitch.

We fumbled our way towards the bed, pushing aside the chair and we almost tripped over one another. He sat me down and I reached for his belt, but he simply removed my hand.

“I would like to taste you first,” he said as he kneeled down on the floor. What a gentleman! I lay back a bit, spread my legs for him and slid my panties aside.

He removed his blazer and placed it gently on the backrest of the chair. He started to uncuff his sleeves and remove the top button of his button up shirt.

His shirt came off, revealing his nice body, and he went down on me. He took a whiff of my pussy and sighed with satisfaction.

“Your smell is really appealing for me,” and I think I blushed. I don’t think anyone has ever complimented how my pussy smells.

He started by gently licking me and sucking on the clit. I shuddered at his efforts and his finger went in and then another. Then, he started to pump it in and out and he would twist his hand.

I remember the first time I came from getting fingered. It was a magical feeling. Since then, rarely does anyone caused me to orgasm from being fingered. However, this technique made me shake and squirm. I looked at him and my face told him exactly how I felt. How good he’s making me feel. How wonderful he’s making me feel.

“Did you have an orgasm?” Came his silly question and I nodded my head. He went back to sucking my clit and fingering me. Then, he crooked his finger and that made the technique even mind-numbingly better!

My thighs started to shake. I’m begging him for more and more, to make me cum even more and he kept making me cum again and again! Mini-orgasms like before, but they kept building up on top of one another.

Until, well, I couldn’t help but let out a gush of fluid. I squirted. A first for me, and from the looks of him, it’s a first too. His face told me he didn’t know what to do, but he looked at me.

“Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asked as he looked me up and over.

I couldn’t help but moan a little while I settle down. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Bryn.”

“Can you explain what happened?”

I just laughed for a bit. “Some girls do that when we get sexually excited. It’s similar to men cumming.”

“It’s amazing to watch, I must admit.”

Then he went back down and started eating me out and fingering me. He started gentle and slow and progressed. Again, I’m feeling that warm fuzzy feeling wrapping around me, then that tight pressure.

“W-What are you doing!?” I howled as he brought me to near orgasm again.

“I want to see it. I want to watch your face while you orgasm.”

His fingers worked furiously while he stared at me. My face twisted in pleasure and I howled in delight as I came again.

Then that fluid rushed out of me again and splattered all over his arm.

“God! Oh my god! Stop, stop! Stop making me cum!”

He didn’t stop. He kept fingering me until I started to thrash and twist on the bed. I haven’t cummed like that! I’ve never cummed to the point where I’m literally rolling on the bed and crying.

I managed to get a glimpse of him licking his finger and nodding in approval.

I’m Queen. The best stripper in Mars Lancer, arguably the best strip club in this city because of the services we provide. I have been dubbed “Black man’s Kryptonite” because they can’t last long with me.

Yet I lay down, on my stomach, writhing in pleasurable orgasm, having a guy bring me into a squirting orgasm twice. TWICE. AND I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I CAN SQUIRT!

I need to get him back. I need to regain my pride. He licked another finger and even smelled the wetness on his arm.

“It tastes similar to your vagina. Metallic and a little sour.

I’m angry, and I’m surprised he didn’t pick up on that. He’s sitting next to me and so I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down.

He got a good look at me and he swallowed hard. “You’re angry,” he said flatly, “I fail to understand what I did wrong.”

Sometimes, people get angry for no reason. Sometimes, people are just angry. Me? I’m angry because this motherfucker made me cum and I haven’t paid him back. Usually, I get an orgasm and he gets an orgasm. He gave me two!

I worked his belt off while grumbling angrily. “Take your god damn pants off!” I growled at himAnd he promptly did. I reached into his underwear and produced his somewhat semi-hard cock and wrapped my lips on it.

“I don’t unders—“

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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sup2wq/dancing_queen_ch_2_casual_relationship_mf