23 Minutes: J
23 minutes. It had only be 23 minutes. J had walked in the door at 8:10, flustered because she was late, and it was only 8:33 and his fingers were up her skirt and inside her. They had found her wet and eager.
23 minutes and she was letting a stranger finger her. A man she only knew as R, or as he preferred, Sir. 23 minutes and she was fighting to hold back moans so it wouldn’t alert anyone else at the bar to what was happening. What he was doing to her. What she was letting him do to her. What she was loving.
23 minutes and she had set a new personal record for slutty behavior. She had met other men online and even slept with some. Letting strangers take her in the backs of cars or hotel rooms. But never this fast and, she thought, never this wet. R’s fingers finding no resistance at all as they slid inside. They knew just where to go too, almost like he wanted to embarrass her by making her moan. And, maybe he did.
That was the thing though, it could have been faster. 23 minutes was how long it took him to get here. She could see in his eyes, that he made her wait. 23 minutes, but she knew from minute 5 that she was going to fuck him. That she was burning to fuck him. That once he decided she was ready and comfortable, that he was going to touch her like this, a threat and a promise.
After weeks of talking online. Flirting, sharing stories and fantasies, but also getting a bit real. Each step he had seemed so right. So much of what she needed for this phase of her sexual journey. Her voyage of self discovery. Not even minute 5. No. Before that. She came here wearing her sexy lacy underwear, with a bag of her favorite sex toys in the car. She came here for this, for him, to do something wild.
23 minutes, but had he done this at minute 5, she’d have spread her legs just as fast for him. Been just as wet. And she could tell, tell, the entire time that he knew it. That he knew she was ready, knew she was wanting, and that he wanted to touch her. Here in public. To make her his slut. To let them revel in this perverse behavior. But he waited. Out of politeness? Letting her nerves calm down? Or out of sadism? Denying her the slutty pleasure she wanted until he decided she had enough.
23 minutes ago she had walked in knowing this was what she wanted. Hoping that this man, whose face she hadn’t seen, whose last name she didn’t know, that this man was the man he claimed to be. Attractive, experienced, dominating, but kind. The man she had been talking to who excited her, who made her tell him things she had trouble admitting to anyone. Details of her voyage of awakening.
R had complimented her body in the photos she had chosen to share. He had looked at her body, seen that it was a real woman’s body, not a Barbie dolls’, and complimented it. Maybe just words said to get her into bed, but as she walked in those 23 minutes ago, she saw his smile light up and appreciation in his eyes. Delighting in her curves. And she could see, when looking into his eyes, the joy he was taking in her ragged breathing as his fingers continued to slide between her folds.
As a black woman, she had worried that his interest in her, as a white man, might not be the right kind of interest. That he was one of those guys that would freak out realizing that some in public might judge them together or worse, one of those men that fetishized skin color. He had assured her otherwise, but you never knew. And 23 minutes ago, and now, with his fingers sliding inside of her, she believed it fully. He was what he seemed. What he said he was. As they had talked, she had seen how he had been honest. That her mind and body aroused him.
23 minutes, and she knew that by the end of the night, she would beg him to enter all of her holes. To claim her body for his. That he would make her cum and cum again. That she would be his delicious slut.
23 minutes, but this was just the start of the date. A safe spot to meet for a drink, to let her feel comfortable before the next stage. The strip club. Her idea, not his. After all, when on a voyage of self discovery, one should try all things.
“Are you ready,” R whispered into her ear, as his fingers withdrew forcing her to moan in disappointment. She seriously considered telling him to screw the club and just take her back to his hotel. But she wanted this, wanted to see, wanted to experience, wanted to see how he watched the dancers and what he liked.
“Yes,” she said back.
Then, felt something pushing into her. This wasn’t part of the plan, it was maybe the size of two of his fingers, but hard and after a moment, she felt it slide all the way in, a toy an inch or two long. Not part of the plan, but she had read enough of his stories to guess it was a remote vibe. J smiled happily. Yes. This was the man she had been wanting. Naughty and creative, but she could sense a safety with him. A mans he could trust to help on her voyage. Who would push her, but not too hard. She must smiled as he stood and offered his hand to help her, as she took it, she felt her own sexual slick on his fingers and smiled more broadly.
Better than expected: R
The moment he saw her walk in, R felt excitement course through his body and his nerves relax. She was lovely. Sexy. And had an adorable smile that spoke of her own nerves and her eagerness.
He had worried that she might not be what she seemed online. She had even warned him, that while she had showed him photos of herself, including quite intimate photos, that she was worried he wouldn’t like the complete package. He had tried to explain, to convince, that he loved women with curves. That if what she had showed him was herself, that it was what he wanted.
You never knew of course. He had met women whose photos were a decade out of date or so photo-shopped that they looked nothing like the truth. Or worse, when men showed up, hoping he would just be too horny to say no to a quick BJ when they admitted they had been cat fishing him.
But there J was, in the flesh, just as sexy as she had been in the photos. And it wasn’t long before he knew that she was ready, though he waited, to give her time, before placing his hand between her knees, grinning as she, without prompting, slid her legs open to let his hand slide higher up her thighs.
She was pretty and sexy, but what he enjoyed most was her attitude. Joking with him, smiling. Laughing. Talking like they had known each other for more than just a few weeks of chat on a dating app. So often women showed up like this, too nervous to let go. Or too submissive to do much besides answer questions. And that was fine, he always understood, this meeting a stranger could be scary. But it was such a breath of fresh air for her to be so warm and open.
And of course, he could see how naughty she felt. How relaxed and turned on he was making her. He had known, just known, that she would barely react as he slid the toy inside her, and he was right, enjoying the mockingly shocked, but excited smile she gave him.
As he paid and they left the bar, he ignored the little remote in his pocket. They talked and he noticed her eying him, clearly wanting to ask about it. But it was a short walk to the strip club and she would find out then.
It was a nicer club. He had picked it carefully after she made her request. Slightly more upscale. He didn’t want to scare her. She had told him that she wanted the experience of seeing the women, seeing the club and how it worked. He had thought she’d enjoy it more than one of the seedier places in town.
He paid their entry fee and was amused by how large her eyes were, as she nervously glanced around the place. It was shaped like a large oval, with booths on the walls facing in and a large stage in the middle with women in various states of undress, dancing for attention and money.
He saw nerves in her face, as the attendant led them to the booth he paid for, but excitement and arousal. She had told him that she wasn’t entirely into women, but appreciated their bodies. That she was on a journey of sexual discovery and wanted to enjoy being saturated by sex in a place like this, and judging from the darkening of her cheeks, it was exciting her.
He waited until they sat down, her on his left, and the waitress came to take their drink order, waited just for the moment J started to speak, to flip the little remote to the on position.
Startled: J
J forced herself to be patient and ignore the toy inside her, despite the fact that she could feel it moving in a pleasant way as she walked with R to the club and up the staircase to the main room.
She managed to forget about it though, as they walked in and she saw the club laid out before her. Four women on stage, all in skimpy outfits or only thongs. They were all so pretty. She could see the dancers circulating on the floor too. Small breasts, large breasts, small asses, and big ones. Some dressed and some walking about with their breasts hanging out on display.
They moved impossibly. Their bodies artfully turning, thrusting, bouncing, gliding. Yes it was sex. So much sex. But beauty. She could barely understand how they moved their bodies in such a way. Such a tantalizing way. These were the women men fantasized about. Imagined having these women moving like this on their naked bodies.
It was startling and in a way scary. Why had she asked to go here for their first meeting? She wasn’t a small woman. She knew she had great assets, but how could any woman compete in a place like this, with so much beautiful flesh on display and the smell of sweat, booze and sex hanging in the air. These women where what men fantasized about.
For a moment, her heart lurched, then R took her hand and she looked to him and saw that his eyes were on her. His gaze, with all these women to choose from was on her, and he had a big goofy smile on his face. Clearly happy to be there with her, happy to be touching her. Relief filled her and as they sat down, she started to let herself relax. He had told her he thought she was beautiful and sexy, that he loved her curves, and from the way he was looking at her, clearly paying more attention to her than the dancers, she finally believed him.
She smiled, sitting and looking at the menu. She had forgotten about the toy inside her with so much other stimulation, as the waitress asked what she wanted to drink. Then, as she started to speak, started to request her seven and seven, it fired to life inside her almost making her scream. It was only shock at first, shock and confusion and panic and embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she managed to stammer out, “Seven and seven please.”
As the waitress left J turned to R and slapped his arm, trying to act upset, which failed as she couldn’t force the grin off of her face. “You dick!” She said. Forcing the words out as the shock finally wore off and was replaced with the pleasure of the strong buzzing. She hoped it could go lower as this was more than she could concentrate through, while simultaneously hoping it could go higher too . . . eventually.
He made a confused face and shrugged, as if he didn’t know what she meant. Though, he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face either, as he said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, but clearly you are excited about that drink.”
She couldn’t help it, she had to laugh, a small gasp of amused pleasure, while slapping his arm again and saw his hand in his pocket as the buzz dropped down to a low manageable sensation.
She nuzzled against him, enjoying the low thrum, knowing that he had total control over it. That she was choosing to give him control over it. Control over her pussy, her pleasure, and even her embarrassment as if he pushed her to orgasm, she didn’t think she could be quiet about it. Then felt his hand sliding further up her bare thigh. Then she turned to watch the dancers. Just relaxing into pleasure and the feel of him next to her. She was amazed, and aroused, at how they moved, twisted, bounced and gyrated.
They watched and talked for a bit. Small things. Naughty things. Big things. But after a bit, she asked, “who do you like,” and nipped at his ear.
Picking his poison: R
“Who do you like,” J asked, and R realized he had barely looked at the dancers. He jerked his head away from her when she nipped at his ear, flipping the vibe to its highest setting for a moment and feeling her jerk next to him.
“Naughty naughty,” he said, “only I get to bite.” Then turned the vibe back to its lowest setting and felt her relax next to him.
Looking at the stage he saw four dancers, one black, one Asian and two white. All very pretty with different lovely bodies from tiny with few curves to small with fake too-large curves. The one that caught his eye though, was a white woman, curvy and wearing a set of lingerie that left her large clearly real as they were sagging, breasts totally exposed. She was smiling and flirting with a customer, while spinning on a poll.
”The white woman in the white outfit,” he said, “no clue what you call a getup like that. But I like that she has curves, and prefer real breasts to fake. Hers’ look real and just a bit too large for her frame. But most of all, she seems to be having the most fun. Like this isn’t as much a job, but a fun hobby. Sex is only fun if everyone is enjoying it.”
They said nothing for a moment as the woman R had picked shimmied up the pole, turned upside down, and begun to slowly spin down with her breasts held out, giving the customer who had tipped her a lovely view. R felt J’s hand, moving with purpose across his thigh towards his zipper.
He was impressed with her daring, he had met so many women that wanted to be touched in public, but were too nervous to do the touching without being ordered, and even then timid. No one could see with the table blocking the way. Likely set up that way on purpose. But still, he wasn’t expecting her to be this forward, even if he had done the same. And it was incredibly exciting. She found his zipper and without hesitation pulled it down. He was soft but growing as her hand found and opened the button of his boxers before sliding in and slowly grasping his cock, beginning to lightly kneed and rub it with her fingers.
“What about you,” he asked, nudging the vibe up slightly which caused her to start stroking him harder, making him moan and grow to his full size.
”You’re so big,” she whispered in his ears, “I want you inside me tonight. I want to suck you and then slide you into my pussy and my ass.” He turned to her and saw her grinning, a devilish look in her eye. He felt himself grow painfully hard as she stroked and knew he had found someone rare. A wild little tease willing to give as good as she got.
Then, her face innocent again, despite the heat he felt at her words and the pleasure of her hand on his cock, she turned back to the stage and watched.
Raising the stakes: J
J was having more fun than she had hoped. His hand was so close to her wetness, teasing the inside of her thighs while the vibe buzzed slowly inside her. She didn’t think it would be enough to get her off, but she felt herself growing warmer and warmer with the alcohol and the feeling of his cock in her hand. At first she had been nervous that he would make her cum sitting here with him, in public.
The sexual atmosphere that surrounded her was almost intoxicating in itself. Maybe, if they stayed like this long enough, she’d lose control. Maybe. But she turned to watch he dancers. Still amazed at how they got their bodies to do what she was seeing. Spinning around poles, dropping suddenly, it was watching some form of art. Some form of bodily movement that denied all logic. Their asses shaking, dropping into splits that somehow made their asses land inches away from patrons faces.
She no longer feared an orgasm, but hoped for it. Wanted it. Wanted to know what it felt like to try to keep from screaming while people stared.
She didn’t let the show or her need distract her from his cock in his hand. It was lovely, not the biggest she had known, but big for a white boy. It felt so nice in her hand. Thick and firm. Better yet, from his bearing, from how every thing else about him had been true, she had a feeling that he knew how to use it. That it could feel so good inside her. She wanted it in her mouth but knew that would be too much for this place.
”I like them all,” she said, “but I’m pretty straight. I like to look and watch. I think it’s hot. I want to touch them a bit, but not too much. I want to admire and maybe kiss them. But mostly I like watching them and how they flirt with the men and how they tease and toy with everyone. I like to imagine myself like that.”
“So,” R said, and J sped up for a moment to distract him, making him give out a small moan that made her smile, “so you are bi, as long that means you get to kiss them and fondle their breasts, but not have to go down on a woman.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, he seemed to see through her so easily. “Yeah,” she said, “maybe its selfish, I don’t know, but its what I’d like if I was going to be with a woman.”
”Hmmm,” he said out loud and she felt the vibe speed up again, felt his finger tips caressing her wet panties. Sexy white lace picked out because she knew she’d end up in bed with him. Hoped she’d end up in bed with him. “What about dominating a woman. A sub. You get to choose how you touch her, what you do to her, but she has to do everything you want. Would you like to have my cock in your mouth while straddling her face?”
The image filled her mind and she shuddered in pleasure, feeling his cock hard in her hand but to distracted to do more than just hold it for a moment. Imagining what it would look like in person, she had only seen the one photo of his cock that she asked for, imagining what it would taste like. Imagining one of these beautiful women spinning on poles, tied, naked on her back while she focused all of her attention on pleasing J’s pussy. The whole time, the toy buzzed inside her, imagining the sensation on her clit was not his teasing fingers, but a submissive tongue. All the while, feeling and tasting his cock in her mouth. Urging him to let go, to take and swallow all of his arousal.
She felt herself tipping further towards orgasm and held onto his cock as an anchor as she felt the toy speeding up and his fingers sliding under the panties to play with her clit, so slick with her own excitement. No longer teasing, but urging her forward, urging her towards climax.
Then his mouth was at her ear, “but you wanted to come here, you asked for a strip club. I think you like to watch. Maybe you’d enjoy taking her by the hair and sliding her mouth onto my cock, making sure she sucks it just right? Watching as her lips slide along me, threatening her with punishment if she doesn’t take it deeper.”
It was a scene she had never really seriously considered, but hearing him say it, imagining the girls on stage, on their knees before him, eyeing her nervously as she threatened them to suck him just right or else. The pleasure of his fingers against her, the vibrations. It was too much. Too much.
She let go of his cock and grabbed the table as the orgasm pounded through her body, forcing her mouth closed so she didn’t scream, gasping, before starting to involuntarily giggle. When it was clear that at least, two of the women on stage could see and guess, it only made the orgasm stronger, and her giggling louder.
Giggling orgasms – R
R could almost see when she hit the tipping point. The way her thighs clenched down on his hand, the way her body went rigid and of course, the moment she grabbed the table for support. He watched in pleasure as he made her cum. It didn’t matter that it was a toy more than anything else. He had caused the orgasm, he had given her this pleasure, and he took pride in that.
The laughter confused him for a moment though, “are you ok” he asked, shutting the vibe off.
She was still catching her breath and giggling, but she waved at him and, as a few people were looking directly at them, he slid his cock back into his pants. “It’s just,” J said between aftershocks of small giggles, “something I do sometimes when I have an orgasm.”
He raised his eyebrows. Interesting, he thought. A sort of, orgasm alarm. He’d seen it before and seen many other strange reactions to pleasure, but it had been some time since he had seen giggling.
As she calmed down, he caught her eye and brought his finger tips to his mouth, enjoying licking her off them.
“Delicious,” R said and took another drink before motioning to the passing waitress to bring them each a new one. “I hope you don’t mind,” he was happy and could feel the giant grin on his face, “I had thought about making you wait, but then I thought, your first orgasm with me in a strip club. How slutty, its something I can hold over you when I fuck you later. Tell you what a bad little slut you are.”
She snuggled against him and her hand fished him back out of his pants, starting to stroke again, he had lost some of his steam but she got him hard again quickly. They sat together, drinking, her idly stroking him, talking about life, sex and the girls for a bit. When he noticed one of the strippers clearly watching them, clearly guessing what she was doing under the table, and giving him a look that screamed, ‘should I come over.’
“Well,” he said, thinking, “I think we should make a decision. Do you want to go back to the hotel with me so I can do lovely, but dirty things to you. Or do you want a lap dance or for us to get a couples dance?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/zkxet0/js_journey_a_meeting_and_a_club
I really enjoyed the build up of this, very hot