Recession Blues: Part 6

Recession Blues
Original story: Stormbringer
Follow up: RogueAlan
Chapter 6: Blue Eyes Crying

 Ann was still dreading her pending decision on Tuesday morning.  More accurately, she was dreading what the decision she had already made meant to her life.  She had thrown herself at Tom Saturday night in a desperate attempt to prove to herself that Jacen was wrong, that she could be satisfied by sex with her husband.  She could admit that being denied release with Jacen had left her more than horny, but that had pushed more the manner than the motivation. 
 Ann was still dressed as she had been for Jacen… and for the man who had paid for her blow job: just the shorty strappy tank and thong bikini bottoms. She did not bother kicking her three inch heels off, stalking down the hall into the bedroom.  Tom had been reading in bed.  His eyes had gone wide as he took in his wife, standing mostly naked in the bedroom door.
 “Uhm… you drove home like that?” he seemed truly shocked.  Ann had shrugged.  “You walked out to your car…”
 “With the other girls,” Ann had shrugged again, the movement setting her breasts swinging, “And anyone in the parking lot had already seen…” She had caught hold of the doorframe, leaning away suggestively and shimmying her hips.  “You said you might come see me,” she had pouted, striding into the bedroom, and straight to the foot of the bed, not around to her side.  Not to his side. 
 “Well, I was working,” he shrugged, “And since I don’t get to really enjoy you when you’re working…”
 “You don’t enjoy?”  Ann turned away, running her thumbs inside the waistband of the thong from her sides to the front, pressing down, which would have bared her sex to him had she been facing the bed.  She crossed her left arm over her stomach, using her right to lift her top over her breasts while her hips moved from side to side.  She had turned, then, but lifted her arm, hiding her nipples, but giving Tom a tantalizing peek at the bottoms of her breasts.  He had pushed what he was working on down, and she could tell he was hard.  “Watching me dance?”
 “Oh I enjoy that,” Tom had admitted, eyes feasting on her little show, “But I enjoy touching more.”  Licking her lips, Ann had let her top drop over her breasts again before setting both hands on the mattress.  Eyes fixed on her husband’s, intensely aware of her need, she balled her fists, yanking the comforter and sheet down, off of Tom.  She saw the peak in his boxers, and climbed onto the bed. “I, uh, guess it was a good night at the club,” he stammered.  Ann shook her head.
 “No, it sucked.  There was some inspector there and nobody was paying for dances.  And you said you were going to be there.  And you weren’t, but you’re still awake.”  She paused, not wanting him to wonder why she was home horny after a bad night, but left him sleeping after good nights.  “Now let’s make a baby, lover,” She had moved up over his legs, hair cascading almost to his thighs. 
 “Wait, let me set this…”  Ann had swept her hand against the lap desk he was using, knocking the book and papers onto the floor.  “Whoa!”  Tom had started to sit up, but she was already to his waist, and had planted a manicured hand against his sparsely haired chest, pushing him back on the bed, even as the fingers of her off hand slipped into the vent of his boxers, teasing at the underside of his erection. “Oh!”  he had groaned, going still.  She had considered yanking his boxers down, but that close, she could not wait, and more clumsily than was necessary but faster than to strip her husband fished him out of the thin sleep pants.  She dove into his crotch, slurping him easily all the way into her mouth.  And using her tongue over the sensitive underside of his shaft, sucked at him hungrily. 
 As she did, part of Ann’s mind urged her to finish him off, as if it could erase what she had done only an hour before.  But she wanted more, and as soon as she knew he was fully hard, Ann sat back, wiping at her mouth as she hitched up over her husband’s thighs.  Tom’s hand closed at her hips, fingers curling down to the edge of her ass, urging her on, as she caught hold of his cock, bringing the pink tip to her drooling, ready seam.  She brought him inside of her and settled down in a single smooth movement, head dropping back and sighing as her ass came to rest on his thighs.
 Ann braced her hands on Tom’s shoulders and leaned forward, kissing her husband passionately as she began to ride him.  The first strokes were so eager he nearly slipped out of her and she unconsciously modulated her movement.  Before a minute had passed, she was grinding against him at the bottom of each stroke, hips shifting side to side, and curling her back to pres her clit against Tom’s pelvis as she did.  It felt good, but it was not pushing her closer to the orgasm she craved. 
 Ann moved faster, still kissing Tom, moaning encouragement as his hands groped her breasts.  He was pinching her nipples, but was being too gentle.  She groaned in protest when his hands dropped to her hips, but then he reached further down, squeezing her ass as Ann rode him.  She responded by humping against him harder and faster.  Still, it was not getting her closer to her release.  She knew she needed more, and breaking the long delicious kiss, she began to sit up, meaning to vary things.
 “Ahhhh!” Tom’s hips came off the bed, resisting her attempt to disengage, and she realized belatedly he was already cumming.
 “Nooahhhh!” she bit back the protest, embarrassed, and settled back onto him, grinding in the wasted attempt to get enough friction to cum.  Tom’s hand released her ass, and he sat panting, smiling at her.  “Oh God,” Ann moaned as she rolled away a moment later, remembering to grab a pillow, which she slipped beneath her ass.  She wanted to keep up appearances. Naked atop the covers, she pressed a hand against her sex, struggling to resist the urge to masturbate right in front of her husband.  Tom grabbed a Kleenex from his side of the bed, wiping at his spent cock before he settled onto his back.  He looked over, smiling at Ann.
 “You’ll have to have bad nights more often,” he said, “I think that’s better than getting a private lap dance at the club.”  Ann smiled,
 “I don’t know, babe, for you I might consider breaking the rules.” 
 “I’ll have to hurry then… You gave Les your notice, right?”   Ann shrugged.
 “No, not yet.”  She put a hand up, “Don’t.  Just, don’t.  I know what we talked about.  But we’re…” she looked down at her naked body pointedly, “Finding time for each other again, and the money is so good right now…”  When Tom was clearly unconvinced, she rolled part way up onto her side, “Hey, was this so bad tonight?”  He rolled his eyes but dropped it at that point, and was snoring softly only a few minutes later. 
 Ann got up the moment she was confident he was asleep.  She brushed her teeth, gargled with the Listerine Tom used that she disliked, and then again considering what she had done that night.  She showered, leaning heavily against the tile wall as she finally got off, using her fingers and the spray of hot water.  Still, she lay awake for a long time, frustrated by the night, up to and including the too brief sex with Tom.
 Tom seemed pleased enough with the results, though, and had tried to get Ann to put out again Sunday afternoon and again when they went to bed, but she had begged off both times.  Instead, she had masturbated repeatedly Sunday night, first to get to sleep, and then after a sexy… nightmare, she told herself, in which she was being taken by Jacen and Angel, and then Les and Billy, all on stage at the club, and with a line of strangers awaiting their turn to use her pussy and ass. 
 When she woke, the married dancer had tried to understand how such a horrible possibility could have left her so aroused, but the pressure of her need, and the sensitivity borne of that arousal had quickly led to her fingering herself.  She had cum quickly and strongly, and again just a few minutes later, when she had kept at it.  The second orgasm had nearly left her crying out, and she had finally managed to regain some self-control over concern Tom would wake up.
 Skin glistening with beads of sweat, the sheets tangled at her feet, Ann had been embarrassed to find that she had her hand buried in her barely sated sex.  She had paused, worried there would be pain in withdrawing it, but instead, there had been only a faint… hunger.  Panting, she had pulled the covers up, tight to her neck, and lay staring at the ceiling trying to understand how she had come to be so completely controlled by her sexuality. 
 That ever present desire was already becoming a nagging urge by the time she awoke on Monday, and watching Tom pad naked from the bathroom to his closet, she had seriously considered asking him to be late to work… She knew he would have happily agreed.  And yet, the idea of not getting off with the man she loved again kept her from acting.  Until he was gone, after which the sex addicted housewife had masturbated urgently to a screaming climax before she bothered getting up. 
 She had showered and ate a light breakfast, all while pretending that the tickle… the whisper at the back of her mind to ‘do it again’ was not there.  She had sought to escape the temptation by shopping, but that had proven less effective than she had expected; before two hours had passed, she had taken refuge in the mall’s Victoria Secret, embarrassed that she kept finding herself staring at strangers—black strangers—and imagining having sex with them.  When the older custodian had cleared his throat, interrupting her developing fantasy so that the married stripper found she had one hand pressed against her sex, the other covering her breast, Ann had impulsively fled into the lingerie store. 
 Further embarrassed at the attention of the salespeople, Ann had hastily selected several pieces, slipping into a dressing room in order to ‘calm down.’  And doing so had meant playing with herself once again.  Flushed, she had purchased the most provocative ensemble of the items she had carried into the dressing room, having never tried it on. 
 Ann drove about aimlessly.  She found herself passing the club, and wondered how she had come to this point, even as the memory of a hundred men shouting and throwing money at her spurred her arousal.  The next she realized, Ann had pulled up outside of Jacen’s small home.  She blinked, and admitted to herself she was hoping that he would fuck her, both to give her what she needed, and to show her what he had said had been a cruel joke. 
 Looking around, she had sat frozen in the car, worried that his neighbors would see her.  And then she had been standing on his front porch, knocking.  The inside was dark.  Ann had smiled at the mailbox slot positioned beneath the looked through the sidelight beside the door, a throwback.  Looking through the sidelight into the dark front room, she gasped, realizing that for the hours she had been Jacen and Billy’s plaything she would have been exposed to anyone standing on Jacen’s porch. Had the bouncer’s mailman seen what was happening? 
 While she was horrified at the prospect, there was also an undeniable shiver of arousal.  Telling herself it was only conditioning from dancing for strange men, Ann had hurried back to the car, glancing at the neighboring houses, wondering if her car was familiar to anyone. 
 Ann had found a measure of escape at the gym, pushing herself on the treadmill until Tom had texted asking where she was.  Drenched in sweat, she had opted to shower, barely managing to keep the temptation to use the gym’s hand held shower head to get off before she hurriedly dried off and headed home. 
 Tom had thought she was quiet at dinner, a simple salad and chicken affair Ann threw together while he used their home treadmill.  He had been amused at how much wine disappeared during the meal, but was acutely aware that when tipsy his wife could be a sexual dynamo, and so had said nothing. 
 Ann had responded to his advance in the kitchen as they rinsed the dishes, and Ann moaned in delight when her husband dispensed with foreplay, pushing her roughly on to her stomach on the kitchen table and mounting her from behind.  Clutching at the table’s edges, she had pushed back, welcoming his thrusts, and crying out when she came in less than a minute. 
 Proud of generating such a response, and needing a moment to maintain his self control, Tom had pulled out, flipping Ann onto her back with some difficulty and at the expense of one of their salad bowls.  Reaching down, he had hooked his hands around the outsides of Ann’s thighs, pushing her knees high, then bring them close, her heels settling on his shoulders as he stepped to the edge of the table while pulling on the tops of her toned quads, pulling Ann down onto his thrusting cock.
 “God, yes!”  Ann had cried out, cumming again.  “Give it to me! Fuck me, baby!”  Her words were slurred, she moaned, hips bucking.  She dropped her legs down off of his shoulder, heels spurring Tom on.  He tried to hold off, the memory of what Ann had hinted they might try and her obvious buzz suggesting could ‘make this the night.’  And of course, the excitement that possibility caused had made holding off impossible.  His tempo increased, broke down.
 “Arrgghh!” he hammered into his wife a final time. 
 “No, not yet, my ass.  You could…” Ann moaned as he erupted, “Oh!”  but she came again with him, and when they were spent, panting together in the kitchen, she giggled, “I guess I have to ask sooner next time.”  Tom shrugged,
        “Harder to make a baby that way.”  She giggled longer at that, then went abruptly quiet.  “Shouldn’t drink,” she scolded herself, then.
        “Hey, you can’t drink once you’re pregnant,” he shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s a problem to drink while you’re getting that way.”  Ann had smiled, pulling him down to kiss him passionately, pressing her naked body against his in a full body hug. 
        “I love you, baby,” she murmured, and he knew that she meant it.  She was smiling as sleep claimed her.  Tom carried his wife to bed, pleased that the night had ended so well. 
 Ann’s phone woke her after Tom had left his hung over bride for work.  The alert surprised her—‘she takes it off nice and slow,’ the riff from the My Darkest Days’ hit.  Grabbing it off of the nightstand where her husband had set it to charge, Ann groaned at the mid morning light reflecting off of the screen.  She squinted, turning the phone, then rolling onto her back and holding the phone up over her head.  The large font identified the caller: ‘Hilary’
 “Hello?”  Except it was not a call.  Groaning again, Ann struggled to focus in order to read the small print of her friend’s text.
H>J says you’re gonna work.
 For a moment, Ann was not the married stripper who had been… pimped out.  Despite all that had happened, and with Hilary no less, at that moment Ann was thinking only about having decided to keep dancing at the club. 
A>Yes.
 She frowned after hitting ‘send.’  Looking at the phone, she saw it was 10:27AM.  She sent another…
A>You’re up early.
H>Mornings suck. 
H>Can you help me today?
 Ann got up, padded to the bathroom, swallowing a pair of ibuprofen.  Her purse was on the sink, and she dug out the mint can and took her pill, wondering for a moment if she had remembered the day before. 
A>Sure.
 She did not really think about it.  And did not bother asking about any specifics. 
H>Great.  See you at the club at 1130.
H>Dress sexy.
 Ann turned on the shower, surprised she had so little time.  And curious just what Hilary wanted to do in the morning.  Before she could climb into the big stall, her phone rang again, reminding her she needed to change Hilary’s alert.  She paused, seeing an MMS file downloading with Hilary’s text.
H>Here’s a morning get you going…
 The screen blinked, and Ann gasped, looking around the bathroom as if Tom might appear over her shoulder.  The picture the stripper had sent was obviously from that Saturday morning.  It showed Ann splayed over Jacen’s table, caught in profile.  Her eyes were half closed, mouth open in obvious ecstacy.  It was a wide shot, and Jacen’s cock was visible in the foreground, as was Billy, who was thrust fully into Ann from behind, his long black fingers clutching her bare ass as he fucked her doggie style. 
 Ann was frozen for several seconds, staring at the image. 
H>God you’re so hot.
 Hilary clearly had no idea how dangerous that was.  Ann still hesitated… should she delete it or text her friend first.
A>Hil, you CANT do that… Tom would kill me.
H>OMG Tom isn’t at work?!
A>No, he’s at work.  But you didn’t know.
 There was a pause.
H>… I didn’t think.  I’m stupid.  Sorry.  Delete it!
A>I have
 Ann had not, actually.  It was almost off of the screen because of the subsequent texts, and some suicidal voice in her head was telling her to leave it. 
H>Have you had sex that good since?
A>I have to shower if I’m going to meet you.
H>Ha. No answer is an answer. C U
        As she showered, the memory of their shared night with Jacen and Billy persisted, taking on a life of its own, displacing her happy memory of the night before with her husband.  The urge was there again, but she resisted, refusing to masturbate, telling herself she would be fine since she would be out with Hilary.  As she dried off, she looked at her phone, to see Hil had left another text.
H>Actually, don’t delete it… use Calculator%
 Ann frowned, wondering what she meant.
A>??
H>It’s an ap.
A>I don’t think I have it.
H>I know you do. J put it on that day.
 Ann paged through her phone.  Hilary was right, of course, there it was, an ap she had never seen, hidden in a ‘utilities’ sub folder.  She ran the ap, keyed in numbers… it worked like a real calculator.
A>It’s a calculator
 Hilary responded with an emoji followed by a number: 22222.  Ann repeated the sequence, and found not only the videos that she remembered deleting, but photos, too.  She closed the ap.
A>OMG. I’m serious… Tom will kill me.
H>Tom doesn’t know about the ap. Or the code.
 Ann was partially mollified.
A>Why 22222?
H>Ask J.  And delete these.  See you at 1130.
 While part of her knew she should delete the photo Hilary had sent, and the entire ap from her phone, Ann hesitated.  What if Jacen wanted those to be there.  She remembered how imposing… scary he had been Saturday night.  Instead of deleting it, she followed Hilary’s advice, saving the photo into her secret directory, and then deleting it and most of the texts she and her fellow stripper had shared that morning. 
 That left her even less time to get ready.  Ann threw on make up, grabbed a sun dress that she thought would pass for ‘sexy’ and her three inch heels, followed by her purse.  She paused to scribble a note ‘out with Hilary’ in case Tom was home before she was, and headed to the club.
 As she turned into the parking lot, Ann was surprised to find Hilary was waiting by her car, a Mazda Miata that had seen better days. The perky red head circled around the RAV, climbing into the passenger seat.  She moved Ann’s purse and her own bag into the back, the pulled the Victoria Secret bag Ann had forgotten in the foot well up onto her lap.
 “Where to?” Ann asked, surprised they were not going into the club.
 “Oh, head south to the plaza,” Hil waved her hand nonchalantly, then pulled the lingerie out of the bag.  “Nice,” she nodded, “I said dress sexy, but this is probably overkill.”
 “Very funny,” Ann rolled her eyes, but she could not bring herself to tell her friend why she had made the purchase. 
 “Have you eaten?” Hilary asked her as Ann looked for a parking space in the busy shopping area.
 “Nope, just got ready and came to the club,” she answered, then admitted, “So now I’m starving.”
 “Then head east, there’s parking I can show you.”  Ann followed Hilary’s vague direction. “I’m thinking M&S sounds like the perfect place for lunch,” she pointed as they approached the high end restaurant.
 “Uhm, that’s a little pricey,” Ann cautioned, “We could go back to that sidewalk café, they have great food…”  Hilary shrugged.
 “You’re helping me out, so it’s on me.  And we can park here,” she pointed at the hotel next door to the restaurant.
 “Are we supposed to park if we’re not staying here?” Ann asked, and Hilary snorted.
 “They take money, just like everyone else,” the redhead told her.  So Ann pulled in, taking the ticket and looped down into the surprisingly busy underground garage.  They walked through the main lobby to the exit onto the street and below the restaurant.  Ann was surprised when Hil turned south, though, meaning to cross the street.
 “Lunch is this way,” she chided her friend.  Hil held up the Victoria’s bag.
 “I want to get one of these first,” she argued, “This is sexy as hell.”  Ann looked around, sure someone would wonder what they were talking about.  But nobody nearby was paying them any attention.  Hilary checked her watch,  “It’s early, still, c’mon, it’s just a block.”  Ann laughed, and let the smaller woman pull her through the weekday crowd of shoppers to the gaudy corner store.  Hil showed the clerk what Ann had bought, and after casting a look at the women as if she knew they were a lesbian couple, the older woman led them to a display and then hastily excused herself. 
 Hilary stripped naked, slipping into the bustier and panty lingerie she had chosen, blue and silver in contrast to the black and gold that Ann had purchased.  She pulled the thong panty up, then pushed it down, Ann thought out of a realization it had not yet been washed.  But instead, the red head threw her blouse and skirt back on, holding up a finger.
 “Wait here,” she told Ann and disappeared.  A moment later, she was back, holding two packages of stockings, the patterns and colors to match their lingerie.  She stripped once again, then opened the stockings, deftly rolling them up her graceful legs and attaching the garters before she again donned the panties. 
 “What do you think?” she asked Ann, posing in various positions as she turned in front of the married stripper.  Ann nodded appreciatively.  “Put yours on,” she insisted, and after briefly arguing, Ann did.  She was puzzled when her friend insisted the panties go on over the stockings and garters, rather than under them.  And she was embarrassed, because she should have chosen the Medium size rather than Small… Her breasts were not overly large, but with the pressure of the half cup bustier, they threatened to escape the lingerie if she was not careful.  And the cleavage that was generated was as impressive as in anything Ann had ever worn.  She shrugged the dress on over the lingerie, following Hil’s lead, and the difference in her shape was startling.  She immediately started to take the dress back off, but Hilary caught her hand.
 “C’mon,” she insisted, “We’re dressed up.  It’s like we’re twins. It’ll be fun.”  Ann realized Hilary meant to wear the lingerie from the store to their lunch date.
 “You aren’t going to shoplift…”  Hilary laughed.
 “You don’t think they’d let us get away?” her smile was impish, but she held up the tags she had taken off of the pieces, and then deftly collected Ann’s, “I’m paying, spoilsport.  Now let’s go, I’m hungry.”  She led the way out of the dressing room, the underwear they had worn into the shop stuffed into Ann’s bag.  She insisted on paying for Ann’s stockings before linking arms with Ann as the pair walked back up the hill to the restaurant. 
 The entire way, Ann was aware that passing men were eyeing them both, but Hilary paid them no mind, so she followed her friend’s lead.  Hil paused at the light, checking when her phone beeped.  She pecked a response and then nodded, putting it in her purse as the light changed.  Ann followed the smaller woman up the steps to the restaurant and through the revolving brass plated door. Like the plaza outside, there were more people not working than Ann had expected, and she assumed they would spend some time waiting, maybe at the bar.  Instead of waiting at the hostess desk, though, Hilary said something too quietly for Ann to hear to the man behind the stand, who merely nodded, letting the women pass. 
 The first sign she was in over her head was when the man met Hilary in the passage between seating area and the kitchen.  He was tall and broad and black, dressed impeccably, and clearly expecting them.
 “Glad you made it,” he smiled warmly at Hilary, leaning over to hug the much smaller woman, even as his eyes roamed from Ann’s feet, lingering openly at her chest, then rising to her eyes.  Instead of being embarrassed at being caught checking her out, the man’s smile broadened as he moved gracefully around Ann’s friend, “And you must be Ann,” she found herself hugging him before she knew what was happening.  And her body’s immediate response left her flushed and unable to reply.  “So glad Hilary could find me a date,” he winked, and without a word caught hold of Ann’s hand.  His hand was nearly as big as Jacen’s.  He led the women onto the main dining floor. 
        Ann found herself seated by her ‘date’ and across the table from Hilary.  There was another black man to her left, and a pair bracketing Hilary.  Mike, Dave, and Craig, Ann nodded and managed to smile as introductions were made by the man who had said he was her ‘date.’  She was embarrassed, having missed his name, or rather which name was his.  She was trying to remember if Hilary had mentioned this.  She considered texting the other stripper, both for that and to find out what was going on.  And she considered suggesting they visit the ladies’ room, but wondered if her friend would come along.  Hilary seemed far too busy talking and laughing with their lunch guests.
        She reluctantly did the same, reminding herself they were in public, after all.  The men were talking sports, the end of basketball season, the continuing baseball season, and the local franchise’s shot at making the play offs.  She almost asked if any of the men had been professional athletes, but did not want to offend anyone.  She followed Hilary’s lead, sipping from the drink that had been brought to her by the waitress after they had been seated.  It was sweet… and alcoholic.  The men had drinks, as well, and there were several appetizers.  The women waited until the men had begun to serve themselves, and by then Ann was half way through her second glass, and was feeling pleasantly tipsy. 
        She had learned by then that Mal, which was the name of her ‘date’ was the newest member of the group.  He was not the youngest, Craig had been quick to point out.  They were all several years older than she and Hilary.  She had seen that Mal and Dave wore wedding bands.  Craig was seated to her left.  He was the loudest of the group, and owned a manufacturing company of some sort. 
        In contrast, Dave was such a smooth talker Ann half believed she had asked to be invited to the lunch even before they had begun to enjoy their appetizers.  It made sense, because he was a lobbyist, and apparently a successful ‘power behind the throne.’  Mike, she learned, owned the auto body shop chain that was emblazoned on his spotless, crisply starched button front shirt.  And Mal was a lawyer of some sort. 
        Over appetizers and fresh drinks, the conversation turned to the economy of the city, the men’s frustration at the lack of the leadership and improvement in the black community’s position all had expected after the last election.  Things threatened to get heated when Dave suggested that if business owners like Mike would take less in profit and hire more people the economy would be in better shape.  Mike snorted, telling them his great grandfather had been a butcher at the time of the Great Depression.  And a successful one both among their community and whites.  But because he had been successful he had accepted credit from those customers who had been purchasing from him for years, and before he knew it, his own business had gone under—the bank was not accepting IOU’s.
        “That, you polarizing prick, is why I just finished becoming the primary investor in the new inner city bank,” he finished proudly.
        “So you are going to help our people out,” Craig nodded supportively.
        “Fuck ‘our people,’ Craig,” Mike shook his head, “I’m making sure that my own situation is secure.  Even Bush was helping out banks.” 
        “That attitude is not very helpful,” Mal advised in what Ann recognized to be a polite admonition.  Mike snorted again. 
        “It’s realistic, newbie.  If I’m not taking care of myself I can’t take care of anyone else, can I?”
        “It’s possible to get too interested in your own account,” Dave pointed out.
        “Well I’m here, aren’t I?”  Mike’s challenge led to conciliatory shrugs from two of the others. 
        “Less you’re just here for yourself, cocksucker,” Craig’s smile was incongruous with his words.  Mike rolled his eyes, and did not respond. Ann had seen that all four had a lapel pin that read NBUF.  Three of the men’s were gold, Mal’s was silver.  Dave’s had a diamond—CZ she guessed—at the middle of the B. 
        “Uhm, what’s NBUF?” she asked without thinking, and then shrank back when all four men pinned her with intense stares.  Hilary giggled and then answered,
        “It’s a black business foundation or something like that,” her friend waved her hand, “You know like Elks for the brothers.”  Ann was horrified, expecting the men to take offense, but they just laughed.  
        “We’re not discriminatory, little girl,” Craig leered at both women, “We’re including you after all.”  Hilary giggled, and Ann smiled, telling herself the men had just wanted attractive eye candy to share at lunch.  And she could almost understand it, considering that wherever she looked she kept seeing the other diners were watching the small group.  She was also glad the men were not upset at her asking questions;  they were even offering answers.
        “So is this your monthly meeting?” she asked, trying not to sound too skeptical, and taking a drink to hide her persistent anxiety, “And what are these drinks?  They’re so good.”  Hilary giggled again at Ann’s non-sequitur. 
        “We’re just taking a break from the annual convention,” Craig answered, “And that’s Booty Juice,” he continued, the men chuckled at the women’s reaction.
        “Seriously?” Hilary was obviously as skeptical as Ann. Craig held up his right hand, thumb over his pinkie, the other three fingers extended.
        “Scout’s honor,” he told them.
        “And you were a scout?” Hilary challenged with a smile.
        “That’s where I learned the salute,” Craig told her. The appetizers had been cleared by then.  There were salads for everyone, classic Caesar salads for the women, and wedge salads for two of the men, the chopped salad for Mal, and the walnut salad for Dave.  Aware that she was very tipsy, Ann left her drink alone, opting for water with their second course.  But by the time the waitress was collecting the empty salad plates, her water was gone, and there was no pitcher for a refill. 
        The men had moved on to business.  She heard something about ‘reparation’ and had almost inquired what it meant, but lunch was so enjoyable that she just sat smiling, glancing at their fellow diners, who were still watching them to a man.  It was Hilary who suggested a trip to the ladies’ room.  Ann had nodded, standing up, and asking the men if she could leave her purse, which Mal assured her would be fine.  She followed the smaller redhead back to the front of the restaurant, and to the bathrooms on the opposite side of the hostess’ desk. 
        When they were safely inside, Hilary threw her arms around Ann, kissing her briefly flush on the lips, which left her blinking in surprise.
        “I’m so glad you agreed to help me!” Hilary gushed, adding, “Imagine if I had to do this alone…” 
        “Mal and, uh Dave?”  The way the too smooth political animal had draped his arm over Hilary’s chair while talking with the others, Ann had guessed he was the other ‘date.’ Hilary looked at Ann in puzzlement, then giggled.
        “You’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, then stepped into the first stall.  “You’re OK if we have to put on a little show first?  Nothing gets the guys going like some girl on girl.”   Ann closed her eyes, the memory of Hilary’s lips on her nipples immediate and powerful.
 “Uhm, no, that’s fine,” she said, realizing that the men must have hired Hilary and she to do a private strip show.  “Are we going back to the club after lunch?”  She thought that they would all fit in the larger private booth.  She wondered if the heavy curtain could contain the noise of their fucking their dates.  Ann blinked again, at what she had just calmly considered.  But prodded by the sexy presence of the big black businessmen, and pushed by Hilary’s kiss and ‘girl on girl’ question, Ann was suddenly sufficiently aroused she was having a hard time focusing.  She shook her head at the absurd thought.
 “I think I’m drunk,” she told Hilary and went into the second stall, settling carefully on the toilet as Hilary giggled.  “Who names their son Mal,” Ann murmured to herself.  That elicited another snicker.
 “It’s Maulik,” Hilary told her, and then spelled the name, “He goes by ‘Mal’ probably so people don’t get all weird.”  Ann nodded, and could admit that it made some sense.  She decided not to risk being labeled as one of those ‘weird people’ by pointing out she could not imagine naming a child ‘Maulik,’ either.  She dug her phone out of her purse, typing in the acronym the men were wearing.  And then she began to read.
 “Oh my God, Hil,” she said a moment later, “It’s practically a revolutionary group.” 
 “What are you talking about?” Hilary asked.  She had exited her stall and was washing her hands.
 “The National Black Unified Front,” Ann insisted, “They are lobbying for reparations… you know, repayment for slavery.”  Hilary sounded honestly surprised,
 “Huh,” She shut the water off, “Don’t worry, they don’t expect us for free, Ann.”
 “I didn’t mean…” Ann stopped talking, focusing on not dropping her phone as she hastily wiped, flushed, and exited the stall to wash her hands as well, “I wonder what else they stand for.”
 “Apparently for interracial relations,” Hilary quipped, “At least where white woman are concerned.  C’mon, Ann,” she scolded gently, “We can’t keep our dates waiting.” 
        Although the prospect of doing a private dance for Mal and his friends was still frightening, there was also an unmistakable excitement, and long after the meal Ann would admit to herself she might not have ever had such a delicious lunch.  The men’s plates were overflowing with food.  Craig had selected the ultimate mixed grill, which included shrimp prepared two ways, salmon, and scallops.  Mike had gone with the seafood trio, which was the same shrimp and salmon, without the scallops.  Dave had gone with the classic ‘surf and turf,’ a lobster tail and a filet.  And Mal had chosen the stuffed salmon. 
        The women’s plates were smaller, and as with everything else, had been chosen for them.  But the crab cake was delicious, as was the butternut squash orzo with which it had been paired.  Her water glass had not been refilled, and after emptying her ‘booty juice’ Ann suggested it was maybe too sweet to go with the main course.  Craig said something around the scallop in his mouth, the only word of which Ann caught was ‘tea,’ and she nodded appreciatively.  It even looked like tea when it arrived, but the first drink disproved her impression.  The men had ordered her a long island iced tea, and laughed at the coughing fit that resulted.  She did not complain though, admitting it was less sweet than the booty juice had been.
 By the time the waitress began to collect their empty plates, Ann was freely answering questions, asking her own, and laughing with the others as if they were old friends.  Although Ann was not sure she could eat another bite, the men had insisted on ordering dessert.  A pair of the signature ‘chocolate bags’ appeared, a dark chocolate shell within which had been piped white chocolate mousse with berries.  And of course there was a final round of drinks.  She did not consider that the men were drinking coffee, absently musing aloud that she was not going to be able to drive for a few hours.
 “You missed some.”  She shivered at the timbre of Mal’s voice, and blinked, looking up at him in puzzlement.  He lifted a hand, collecting a spot of the white chocolate mousse that had been at the edge of her lip and then licking his finger clean.  Ann’s body responded so strongly she nearly moaned.
 Her head was still spinning, nearly her entire focus on her arousal as the group left the restaurant.  Her first recognition of her surroundings was as they sauntered through the hotel’s spacious, ornate lobby.  Mal’s arm was draped casually over her shoulder and she could see that Dave had Hilary’s arm through his, and her friend was pressed against him as they walked.
 “How’d you know where we parked?” she giggled, realizing she was leaning against Mal in the same way.  Her escort chuckled, but did not answer.  Ann offered no resistance as they turned, and instead of crossing to the parking garage entrance, the small group approached the elevator.  There was one waiting, and Ann was still wondering just what was happening as they stepped in and the plushly appointed, mirror walled car began to rise.
 “Where are we…”  Ann stopped, remembering she and Hilary were supposed to strip for the group.  She looked up and found Mal’s lips were moving to meet hers.  They were kissing then, passion flashing to life, taking over Ann’s body.  She moaned, hands coming up, pulling him down, trying to pin him in place.  She moaned again as his hand slid down over her breast, thumb slipping away from the fingers, finding and massaging her erect nipple through her dress.  She shuddered, kissing at him more hungrily, pressing her chest against his probing hand.  Her own right hand dropped between them, cupping his groin.  She shivered at the bulge she found.  Mal broke their kiss, lifting his head, which emphasized how much bigger he was as he chuckled.
 “You’re impossibly sexy, Ann.”  He grinned, “Think you can wait until we get to the room?”  Blushing, Ann looked over, first seeing their own reflection in the mirror—the mans’ dark skinned hand cupping her breast, and her own curled against his groin.  Her gaze flickered nervously toward the others, but Hilary was kissing Dave, her and had her left hand against Mike’s crotch.  She immediately glanced at Craig, but the heavy set black man seemed more interested in his smart phone, which he had raised as he leaned into one corner of the elevator.
 Mal’s lips touched Ann’s neck, then, and the white wife moaned again, pressing herself against him as her attempted ‘yes’ response stuck in her throat.  Would she really let him fuck here there in the elevator?  The chime rang, then, and Mal pivoted away, his left hand catching Ann’s right where it had caressing him through his slacks.  She saw that they had risen to almost the top floor.  The words ‘Penthouse suites’ was stamped on the gold panel beside the 15 button, which was lit. 
 To her surprise, there were many people in the floor’s foyer outside the elevator banks.  She realized that most of them were black; the only other white people she saw were women similar in dress and age to she and Hil.  The double doors of the suites across from the elevators were thrown wide, and she could see men and a few women moving about in the oversized rooms beyond.  As Mal led her off of the elevator, into the swirling crowd, the rest of their party was close behind.  He paused, speaking to several men, all of whom seemed to be eyeing Ann critically.  One man with an obvious toupee and the fake smile of a used car salesmen went so far as to ask if ‘they had room for another.’  Mal patted the smaller man’s shoulder, apologetically saying, ‘Maybe next time, Gates.’ 
 Ann did not miss the insinuation, and the lingering knowing gaze of the stranger left her unsettled.  She scolded herself for overreacting—there were no naked women being taken against the hall walls or draped over the plush couches in the open main suite, after all.  They moved left to the mouth of the long corridor of suites extending in both directions away from the elevators.  None of the women she saw looked anything but poised and confident and entirely comfortable moving among the crowd.  There was a sign tacked on the wall where the corridors split off from the foyer, ‘NBUF- KC Downtown Business chapter.’  Beneath it, young black men and women were seated at a folding table the surface of which held a variety of labeled merchandise. 
 “Hey Mal!” a booming voice rang out as the small group moved out of the cacophony into the left limb of the corridor, “Don’t get too carried away… You’re up first at the ‘Where are we now’ session in Salon I.”  Mal paused, and Ann looked back to find it was Ezekiel Butcher, a former city mayor and an advisor to the President.  She felt her mouth drop open in surprise that Mal knew the mayor.  Where her ‘date’ was muscled and imposing, a more refined version of Jacen, the former mayor was tall and thin, with more gray than black in the tight afro he wore, though his heavy mustache was still glossy black.  There was a definite charisma that the man exuded, even if she had a vague recollection of her father speaking badly about the man’s politic.  It had been more nearly two decades since he had been mayor, after all.  There was still an undeniable attractiveness, and she managed to smile, wondering if the political power some men wield is an aphrodisiac. 
 “No worries, Zeke,” Mal assured the older man, “I’ll be there.” 
 “All right,” the man shrugged, waving a hand dismissively.  His smoldering gaze was on Ann though, and she swore she could feel it; the slight ebb in arousal the crowded floor had caused was erased by the resulting flush, “But if I was about to enjoy someone that beautiful…”  He winked at Ann, then, “You come find me if Mal doesn’t treat you right.”  Ann found herself nodding even as the men laughed and Mal resumed a quick pace away from the crowd.
 He paused at the last door on the left, fishing a key card from the inside pocket of his jacket, and then guided Ann ahead of him into the room.  Ann kept walking after he released her hand, moving across the impressively spacious room to the bank of windows that looked down onto the Plaza.  There was a bedroom to her right, with crisp white sheets on a king sized bed.  To her left, a bright blue couch and love seat combination reminded her of the living room at Jacen’s except the coffee table had a glass top.  A matching glass dining table was closer to the door, across from the kitchenette which was situated to the right between the door and the bedroom. 
 Bracing her hands on the marble sill, Ann watched the tiny people below for another moment before looking over her shoulder.  Mal was watching her from where he had stepped to the side of the door to let the others in.  Ann shimmied her hips , holding her hands in place, aware that it was a provocative position.  Craig was the last into the room, and Ann saw him affix the security lock after he closed the door.  She was relieved, because part of her had wondered if she and Hilary were expected to entertain everyone milling about outside.  She knew the thought should have made her cautious, but somehow it seemed to spur her excitement.  After months dancing in front of crowds of men, it was honestly easier to consider than doing a private for Mal and his friends. 
 Dave pushed past Hil and dug through an open athletic bag that had been left on the couch.  He stood up, waving one of the small Beats Pills like Ann had seen some of the dancers using at their stations while they got ready to dance.  The too polite politician quickly had the speaker’s power on, and after fiddling with his smart phone for a moment, the opening of ‘American Woman’ by Lenny Kravitz filled the suite. 
 “There’s not time,” Mike complained, pulling at his tie.  He had already draped his suit coat over one of the chairs at the table. 
 “There’s always time,” Dave offered the smile he used to get his way, without ever looking at the other man, “I thought you were complaining that you wanted to see them dance.”  Ann stopped listening to them.  Her attention was still on Mal as Hil caught her hand and twined her lithe body around Ann’s side.  Ann looked away from the big man in time to accept a kiss from the other stripper.  The women moved together, and then Hil backed away, but they remained synchronized, bodies automatically moving to the music.  For a moment Ann looked around, expecting that somehow there would be a pole for them to use. 
 By the second chorus, Hilary was teasing their audience, toying with the buttons on her blouse.  Ann found herself wishing there were buttons on her dress, and instead lifted the hem, exposing the tops of her hose.  Hil shrugged out of her blouse, using the fabric like a rope to pull Ann close, face to face, and hooking her left leg up to Ann’s waist.  Ann let her head drop back as her friend mimed grinding… more than mimed, actually, as there was real pressure on her sex.  She almost complained when the more experienced young woman dropped her leg, but to her surprise Hil had caught the hem of Ann’s dress, and a moment later the slinky garment was above Ann’s breasts, which were barely contained by the too small lingerie.  Smiling mischievously, Hilary pirouetted, stripping off her own blouse in the same smooth movement.  Shimmying her hips, she brought her hands to the waistband of her skirt, her eyes not on the men in the room, but on Ann’s, holding the married stripper’s attention. 
        Biting her lip, Ann crossed her arms over her chest, but only to catch the edge of her dress, which she tugged off over her head, casting it randomly aside.  As she brought her arms down, the lithe redhead had moved close, and Ann was left embracing her friend, meeting Hilary’s thrusting pelvis with a grinding motion of her own.  There was no hesitation when Hilary tilted her head; Ann kissed the other woman, her arousal obvious.  As their lips separated, Hilary crouched in front of Ann, her hands sliding down the married stripper’s body.  She stood again immediately, hands running along Ann’s stockings to the bare skin of her bare hips.  Despite her smaller size, she easily spun Ann, leaving her facing the men where they were lounging against the back of the couch mere feet away, watching intently. 
        Ann was aware that Hilary’s hands were still moving as the women’s bodies undulated in unison.  She looked down as the redhead’s fingers cupped Ann’s breasts, thumbs flicking over her aroused nipples through the thin material.  Ann took a step to her left, broadening her stance to maintain her balance as Hilary’s left hand slipped down over the bustier, teasing around her navel, and dipped lower.  Ann gasped as the other stripper’s fingers brushed not over her panties, but through her carefully trimmed pubic hair. She realized belatedly her friend had stripped off her panties while crouching.  Her sex was bared for their admirers, the red-head’s fingers slipping between her labia, picking up some of her honey before she spread Ann’s lips, exposing her pink center to the men.  
        Ann absently noticed that her panties were tangled on her right foot.  Her focus was drawn back to Hilary’s manicured fingers, as the other stripper curled two up into Ann’s sex, applying pressure against her clit as she teasingly worked her long nailed fingers in and out of Ann’s pussy.  As she looked up, she saw that Craig had his trousers open and was openly working his cock. Ann froze, aware that this was more than a strip tease… that the men were going to want… Her head dropped back and she moaned in pleasure at Hilary’s touch and at the awareness of what was coming… what she wanted… She shivered in anticipation, imagining having Mal’s cock thrusting into her. 
 Ann turned her head, hungrily kissing Hilary, her own fingers teasing over the other woman’s bustier covered breasts.  She was surprised to find that her friend was still wearing her skirt, and dropped into a crouch, hands on the waistband.  Hilary’s hips prevented her yanking them down, so Ann pushed the front up, kissing at the other woman’s sex through the lace panties.  She giggled, understanding why the redhead had insisted on putting them on over the stockings as she stripped them off, her face inches from another woman’s sex.  She remembered the night at Jacen’s, and without hesitation pressed her lips against the top of Hilary’s clean shaven seam, her tongue searching for her friend’s clit.  Hilary moaned, her hands coming to rest on Ann’s head.
 Ann caught Hilary’s thighs in her hands, maintaining the contact, even as she began to lick and suck, shivering in pleasure at the taste of the redhead’s plentiful honey.  Conditioned by weeks dancing on stage, she kept her body moving, even when Hilary stepped back, bringing the aroused wife out of her crouch and onto her hands and knees. Ann kept at it, even when a hand caught hold of her left hip.  There was pressure at the top of her ass and she shivered, knowing that it was Mal’s cock. 
 “Unh-unh-uh,” she heard Hilary warn, “Gotta wrap it up, you know the rules.”  There was grumbling, but the pressure lifted.  Ann released her fellow stripper’s ass, turning to her right and looking back and up at Mal, who had stripped his pants off.  He was fumbling with a gold foil wrapped condom.  Ann reached out, catching his heavy cock in her hand, and without hesitation she turned fully in front of the big business man and leaned close, slurping him into her mouth.  Hilary said something but Ann did not hear it.  Her entire focus was the glorious black cock.  Mal was big.  Not nearly as big as Jacen, but she was already hungry to feel him between her legs where he belonged.  She sucked hungrily, bobbing her head for a moment, then burying her nose in the tight curls of his pubes, holding him with the blunt glans slightly in her throat as she applied more suction.
        “Oh yeah,” she heard or rather felt Mal say.  His hands tangled in her hair, she thought to hold her in place, but instead he was pulling her off, “Wait, slut… I’m not ready to finish yet.”  She whined as he forcibly extracted his cock, “Damn, you’ll get me off ‘fore I can have any real fun.”  He let go of her head, and Ann nearly lunged forward to get him  between her lips again. Bobbing to the root once, she looked up, catching the thick base of his shaft with her left hand as she backed off to lick at his bulbous cockhead while looking up at him.
        “You’ll get to have fun, baby,” she purred, “I can’t wait to feel this inside of me.”  And she closed her lips around the crown and bobbed slowly down, taking him entirely.  Mal groaned happily, his hand closing on the top of Ann’s head.  Lost in her arousal, Ann paid no attention as someone brushed past her left side, or a moment later in the opposite direction on the right.  Moaning around the shaft filling her mouth and teasing at her throat in an increasingly familiar sensation, Ann brought her hands up, catching the backs of Mal’s thighs when he stepped back, maintaining the intimate connection.  She was forced up off of her haunches, tilting her head back, sucking at Mal hungrily.
        Off balance, she was about to scoot forward again when hands caught hold of each side of her naked ass. She knew what was coming, and in the second before she was impaled, Ann tilted her ass, welcoming it.  She cried out around Mal’s cock as the second man drove into her powerfully, hips slapping against the backs of her thighs.  She arched her back, pushing against the thrusting cock, instinctively matching the man’s pace with the rate at which she resumed sucking on Mal’s cock. 
 It felt delicious, and yet Ann found herself wishing it was Mal fucking her.  She wondered if it would be better if he slowed down.
 “You gotta try this, Mal,” Ann yelped into the big lawyer’s’ groin as the man hammering himself into her slapped her right ass cheek. 
 “That’s what I was saying,” he answered, “Get me a taste, then run down to tell the people what they want to hear.”
 “That’s my star pupil.”  Ann found herself wondering why Craig would say that to Mal.  She was distracted, though, because he pulled out.  It was just for a moment, though, so that he could push into her ass instead.  Ann whined in pain, but did not protest.  It really was more surprise than pain, she realized, as Craig’s thighs met her ass.  She was surprised, though, when his hands curled under her arms, lifting her off of her hands and knees.  She rotated up, impaled, the movement pulling her off of Mal’s cock. 
 “Wait, what,” but Craig just kept pulling until she was on her back, resting on his chest and abdomen.  His cock was still thrust fully into her ass, and Ann was humping against him without thinking about it.  She turned her head, wondering how she could be so flat against him, considering Craig’s big gut.  Ann was surprised to find that it was Dave who had his cock in her ass.  She lifted her head looking through the open French doors into the suite’s bedroom.  Hilary was draped over the corner nearest the windows, her right leg up on the bed as Craig thrust into her from behind.  Their position obscured what was going on, but from the way Mike was standing Ann knew her friend was sucking his cock.
 Mal moved up between her spread thighs, and Ann looked to see the big man finish unrolling the condom onto his cock.  She almost told him he did not need it, but she did not want to wait another second.  Grabbing his shaft in her left hand and his hip with the other, the married stripper pulled him to her.
 “You can take us both?” Mal hesitated.  Ann nodded, her hips still pumping against Dave’s cock. 
 “Oh yeah, baby,” she cooed, “Now give me that big black cock.”  Her head dropped back onto Dave’s shoulder and she moaned theatrically as he did, pushing steadily until his pubic bone was against her own.  There was a delicious pressure against her clit, amplified when he held still. 
 “Ride us now, slut,” Dave ordered.  Ann braced her hands on the base of Mal’s hips to get more leverage as she began to straighten her knees, feet scrabbling against the carpet as she lifted and lowered, feeling the men inside of her.  “See, I told you she could take us both,” Dave crowed at Mal as he began to move, “She’s a pro.  Now give it to her, man.”  Mal began to thrust as well, first gently, but he quickly picked up the pace, driving against Ann hungrily.  She wrapped her arms around his torso, welcoming the thrusts.
 Ann knew Mal was close… he had been about to blow while she was sucking him off.  So it was not a surprise when he went still, grunting, pushing against her for long seconds before he sagged back, staggering away from her.  He caught the liquid filled bulb of the condom in one hand and tugged at the ring with the other smiling crookedly as he watched Ann continue humping against the other man.
 “Damn, but aren’t you fine,” he winked at Ann, “I hope you’ll let me take you again properly when I’m done downstairs.  Ann nodded without thinking about it.  As good as it had felt… as good as Dave’s pumping against her ass still felt, she had not yet cum.  Mal sauntered toward the kitchenette, and before Ann could say anything else, Dave was slapping her hip.
 “Get up, slut,” he demanded.  She did, slipping off of him easily enough.  She stood naked, her crotch wet with her arousal, as the lobbyist sat up.  He caught hold of his erection, wanking it as he pointed toward the window with his free hand.  “Over by the window,” he demanded, “I want to see the drones down there as I fuck you.”  Ann glanced over at Mal, who had already pulled his slacks up, and was straightening his shirt and tie.  Looking into the bedroom, she saw that the others were still going at it.  She went to the window, and even though she knew there was no way short of a powerful telescope anyone below could see her, she was suddenly self conscious, and stayed facing the room and Dave as he approached.  His cock was not really much bigger than Tom’s, she realized. 
 “No,” Dave motioned with his index finger, “Turn around… I wanna take you from behind.”  Ann obeyed, bracing with her hands, which kept her chest below the window’s line of sight.  Dave spanked her right ass cheek, “Where do you want it, slut?”  Ann shook her head.
 “Wherever, you want,” she urged, “Just fuck me, baby.”  He stepped up, dragging his cock down over her ass, teasing her, then down over her splayed inner labia.
 “Hear that, Mal?” he said over his shoulder, “Give her a little taste and she’s gotta have it.”  Ann looked over her left shoulder at the bigger man.  She was embarrassed that the man she wished was still fucking her was standing across the room, fully dressed, watching her with Dave.
 “Don’t wear her out,” Mal warned, “I’m not done enjoying such a fine woman.”  Dave snorted in response, and not, Ann was sure, out of any doubt he could wear her out.  He really was a pompous asshole.  He pushed into her just then, fucking into her pussy as Mal went out of the suite’s door.  Ann pushed back, wishing it was Mal, and then wishing Dave would finish up… after all, Mike was still just getting Hilary’s mouth.  Ann blushed, but it did not stop her from hoping the business owner had a big cock.
 “You like that, slut?” Dave panted a moment later.  Ann was sure he was getting close.  She nodded.
 “God yes,” she groaned, tilting her pelvis, spreading her thighs and moaning at his next thrust, “Give me your big black cock.”  Dave caught hold of her hips, hammering against her harder for a few final strokes before he stopped, sagging out of her just a few seconds later.  Ann moved forward, resting her head on her crossed arms, looking down at the city, aware that her ass was still jutting lewdly back at the lobbyist. 
 For the first time, Ann realized she could hear the others.
 “Oh yes, oh yes… Fuck… Fuck me… Oh yeah,”  Hilary was pumping back at Craig.  Mike had stepped back, and Ann wondered with some dismay if she had gotten him off. 
 “C’mere,” Dave motioned, “You gotta try the agreeable cunt on this slut,” he leered cruelly, “Or her ass, isn’t that right?”  Ann nodded without thought.  Mike had stripped naked, and padded out into the main room.  He ignored Dave, his focus on Ann as he paused.  Ann felt her pulse increase, and a fresh heat bloomed between her legs.  The body shop owner clearly worked hard at his job; there were ropey muscles on his forearms and biceps that she imagined were as big as Jacen’s.  And he had not cum, or he could get ready to go again as fast as the bouncer.  His cock hung heavily and Ann bit her lower lip, imagining how it would feel inside of her.
 “Do you need a moment?” the man seemed almost shy which was endearing.  Ann shook her head,
 “No, do you need me to suck you for a minute?”  She wrinkled her nose, certain she would not like the taste of the condom rolled onto his thick shaft.  Mike lifted his erect cock in answer, stepping behind the aroused stripper.
 “Oh, no,” he chuckled, “I think your friend did enough of that… I want to enjoy the real thing.”  As he finished speaking, he began to push into Ann’s sex from behind, and she caught hold of the window sill, sighing in pleasure as she took his impressive cock to the root.  “Damn,” he said appreciatively, “Most women need a moment.”  Ann shook her head, most of her focus on how deliciously full it felt.  “Your friend did enough that I’m ready for the real thing.”  Mike laughed, catching her hips as he began to thrust into her easily. 
 Ann climaxed finally when Mike increased his tempo a couple minutes later.  She arched her back, moaning in pleasure, “Yessss!” which of course spurred the man using her onto his own climax less than a minute later.  Smiling at the ebbing pleasure she felt, Ann left her ass pointed at the room, resting her head on the wide marble sill and looking into the bedroom as the shop owner pulled out of her.
 “She is something,” she heard Mike say to Dave conversationally behind her in the main room.  She was watching their friend who was on his back on the bed, arms spread wide, stomach wobbling as Hilary rode him, her arms so wide as she braced over his gut that she seemed to be draped over him.  Without really thinking about it, Ann pushed up from the window sill and padded into the plushly appointed suite.  As she got closer, she thought for a moment that Craig had the biggest cock she had ever seen.  She realized a moment later that instead, the man was not even hard, his penis curled beneath Hilary as her friend struggled to get him excited.  Smiling to herself, Ann moved up onto the bed. 
        The first her friend was aware that she had help was as Ann’s nose met the band of skin between Hilary’s pucker and pussy.  Hilary gasped, arching up to look back, even as Ann pressed her lips against Craig’s doubled over, condom clad shaft.  She pursed her lips, sucking at the underside, then ran her tongue along the latex.  She was dimly aware of the man grunting—he had noticed something was different.  And then in the next moment he began to get hard.  Murmuring, the sound of her voice additional stimulation, Ann slurped the still soft head into her mouth as it lifted off of the man’s thigh.  She paused every few strokes, licking the underside again, then licking at Hilary’s splayed labia. 
        Ann dipped her head to lick and suck at the man’s scrotum as his erection was complete.  At the same time she used her hand, bringing the bulbous tip against her friend’s sex. Hilary moaned theatrically when he managed to actually push into her lubricated sex.  Ann continued alternately licking and nipping at the shaft of his cock and then teasing his scrotum again.  She continued pausing frequently, tonguing her friend’s parted labia.  She tasted lubricant, and wondered when Hilary had taken the time to do that. 
        She was aware that Hilary was talking to Craig, but could not hear what was being said, so she was surprised when her friend did not keep riding the swollen cock, lifting up and pivoting to the side away from the suite’s main door. Wheezing, the obese business man pushed up, looking over the hill of his belly at Ann who was crouched at the foot of the king sized bed. 
        “He wants you, honey,” Hilary pushed her lower lip out in a feigned pout, “They all want you.”  Ann giggled.
        “It’s OK, I want you,” she told her friend, who dimpled prettily, even as Ann began to move up, prepared to ride Hilary’s partner as the redhead had a few minutes before. Sausage thick fingers caught her shoulder, soft but more than enough to stop her motion.
        “Nah,” Mike’s eyes never left Ann as he pushed himself up on the bed, “I want you under me, you sexy little slut.”  Ann pushed back away, and as the obese older man shifted to set his feet on the floor, she moved languidly up, pressing her body against his.
        “Do you want me like this?” she asked staying on her hands and knees, twitching her ass invitingly.  He shook his head, and she obediently rolled onto her back, left hand teasing over his bare side, but he was turned so she could not reach his cock.  She wondered if he was getting soft again.  He turned again, moving onto his knees on the bed, as she lay waiting for him.  She was relieved when she saw that he was indeed still hard.  She came up onto her elbows as the older man huffed, scooting closer, between her spread thighs.  The latex encased head of his cock dipped in and out of sight beneath his pannus.  He had heaved each heavy knee closer before she was able to catch hold of him with her hand again.  She left her thumb curled over the top of his shaft, wanking what she could, tugging at the end of each stroke, urging him closer. 
 The pressure of his knees pushed her legs wider still, and then he leaned over her… collapsed, she worried, barely catching himself over her body.  The movement was enough; Ann guided him into her wet and waiting sex.  He shivered as he pushed up into her, his excitement palpable.  He began to thrust at her rapidly, his entire body seeming to roll at the tempo he set, skin enveloping Ann from her breasts to her upper thighs.  She realized with some alarm that she was helpless beneath him, pinned in place.  His sweat slicked skin went on shifting, staying in contact over her entire torso.  The sensation on her nipples, matching the sense of his erection pushing in and out, was delicious.  He was too immense for her hands to reach his ass to spur him on, and her thighs were too wide to effectively lift her knees.  Craig’s face loomed close, heavy beads of sweat gathering, his eyes open, staring down into hers with an intensity that made her shiver. 
 Trying to spur him on, Ann let her eyes go half closed, head falling back.  Her arms had been pressed flat against the mattress with his initial lunge, and instead of flapping uselessly at his side, she reached out, grabbing the sheets, balling her fists, and moaning theatrically, shivering beneath him. He smiled, and seemed to want to say something, but did not have the breath to speak.  A drop of his sweat broke from his nose, and Ann tilted her head, wickedly catching it on her tongue, then licking her lips, tilting her pelvis as much as she could, trying to meet his thrusts.
 He went still then, and she knew that he was cumming.  She twitched and moaned once more, then went slack, aware of the weight of him pushing on her so relentlessly as he held himself against her, his breath loud in her ears.  She worried he might pass out.  There was a momentary pain as he heaved to his left, the pressure on the front of her right hip increasing until she nearly whimpered.  The big man levered himself out of her, off of her body.  The bed shook as he collapsed beside her.  Ann lay still, smiling at the knowledge she had gotten the man excited, and had given him such pleasure.  She rolled up, meaning to nestle against him while they awaited Mal’s return.  Craig’s beefy arm dropped onto her shoulders, sausage thick fingers patting her bare breast affectionately, not groping at her the way she was sure Dave would in the manufacturer’s position. 
 “It was good, little slut?” he murmured, seeming self conscious of the others hearing.  Ann nodded her head.
 “Mm-hmmm,” she assured him honestly, “It was as if you were fucking my entire body.”  Craig smiled broadly.  She ran her fingers through the sparse graying hair on his chest, “This is nice, but maybe I should clean up some.”  He shrugged, hand lifting off of her breast, and Ann sat up, seeing his spent still condom clad cock, resting against his thigh.  “You want me to take care of that?” she murmured.  Craig lifted his head, staring at his body as if somehow surprised he was naked on the bed with her.  He shook his head.
 “Naw, you’ve already taken care of that,” he gave a wan smile, “And thank you for doing that.”  Ann leaned over pecking him on the cheek, and then stood.  She was a little surprised Hilary was not watching or taking part.  And she was a little surprised that the man’s friends were not there to applaud Craig’s performance.  The men had some sport on the big television though, and were paying no attention to anything else. 
 Ann felt a little anxiety when she did not see Hilary in the main room.  Conscious that she was naked, she quietly collected her clothes where they lay by the window and hurried into the bathroom.  Hilary came out as she reached the door, fully dressed.
 “I thought we were going to have some more fun,” Ann pouted quietly.  Hilary blinked, then shook her head. 
 “You really are insatiable,” she looked over Ann’s shoulder, “You really got the old goat off?”  Ann nodded proudly.
 “Mal said he’ll be back.”  Hilary shrugged.
 “Well, I’m not standing around naked waiting,” her friend huffed.  Ann giggled at the mental image.
 “Even if I make it worth your while?” she leaned forward, kissing her friend briefly.  Hilary rolled her eyes, but as Ann shrugged and stepped past her into the bathroom, the more experienced dancer swatted Ann’s ass playfully.  The married dancer closed the door, surprised Hilary had not, and set about straightening out her clothes.  She sat down to empty her bladder before getting dressed, and then realizing that her body was damp with her own and the men’s sweat she reached across to start the shower.  Hilary was back in the room before Ann could flush.
 “What are you doing?” the red head whispered forcefully.  Ann looked at her in confusion.
 “Uhm… taking a shower?” she said.  Hilary shook her head.
 “You weren’t serious about waiting for Mal?” she asked, staring incredulously as Ann nodded, still confused.  “We don’t have time for that,” she hissed, “I have to work,” she checked her watch, adding absently, “They didn’t pay for a girlfriend experience.”  Ann blinked. 
 “They didn’t what?” she stammered, “Girlfriend experience?”  Hil nodded.  The awful reality began to dawn on Ann. “Wait,” she clutched at the sink with one hand, “These… I thought these were your friends.”  It was Hilary’s turn to be confused.
 “What?” she snorted, shaking her head, “I’ve never met them before,” she assured Ann, “Although you were so good I wouldn’t doubt that they want us regularly.” 
 “They’re not friends of Jacen?” Ann asked desperately.  Hilary snorted.
 “They’re his friends so long as they pay for his services,” the red head turned the shower off, “We’re done, Ann.  Let’s go shop some before I have to get to work.”  Ann blinked at her friend.
 “But I’m… I’m covered in… I…” She wondered if she might throw up.  She desperately wanted to shower. “I thought…”  She blushed, was she really about to tell her friend she thought they had been having sex for fun instead of as prostitutes?  She grabbed at her clothes, nearly tearing the lingerie as she rushed to get it on, followed by the dress.  She checked herself in the mirror.  Was that really what a prostitute looked like?  She shivered, horrified that she had enjoyed selling herself to strangers.  Hilary caught her hand.
 “C’mon,” she urged, “I don’t want to deal with the smarmy one trying to get a freebie or a direct number.”  Still holding hands, the women went across the main room.  None of the men paid them any attention, but suddenly that did not seem so strange, Ann thought—their job was done, after all.  She was carrying her heels, and stopped in the hallway, wishing she had put them on in the bathroom.  It embarrassed her someone might see her barefoot—or putting her heels on—and know what she had been doing. 
 Walking down the hall, Ann found herself eyeing the crowd in the lobby with new insight.  Had the mayor…  She shuddered, certain he had thought of her as a pro.  None of the people milling about interrupted them, and the elevator was mercifully on the floor when they arrived.  Hil led the way, punching the floor number then preening as she eyed her reflection in the mirrored walls.  Ann wiped at her eyes, trying to hide her distress. 
 “You were amazing,” Hil gushed, paying Ann no mind, “I mean, I might as well not have been there.”  Ann blushed, shaking her head.
 “Hil,” she paused, “I… I had no idea…”  She stopped, embarrassed.  Fresh tears spilled and she ignored them.
 “You had no idea what… Ann?”  Hilary had finally turned, and saw the married dancer’s anguished face.  “What’s wrong?”  Ann shook her head. 
 “I’m so stupid,” she took a shaking breath, “I… I had no idea we were going to be…”
 “You said you were going to be working!” Hil argued, her own distress rising, “I asked.”
 “I thought you meant dancing,” Ann retorted, “I’d told Les I would keep working a shorter schedule.”
 “Wait, wait,” Hil waved her hands, “You were going to quit?”  Ann shook her head.
 “Tom got a job.  We want to have kids.  So I was going to quit.  But then Jacen and I… And Jacen and Billy and you and I… And… And,” An could not bring herself to admit what else she had done, “And I wanted to keep… I told Les I would keep working.” 
 “But if you… I mean you know what Jacen and Les expect of us…”  Ann nodded jerkily.  Hil sagged visibly in relief.  “So how is this a surprise?”  Ann blinked at her.
 “This?”  she waved her hand at the elevator, “This isn’t the club.  It isn’t blowing a guy in the privates.”  Hil snorted.
 “You thought that’s all they want us to do?”  Ann nodded.  “So you… this was all just… you didn’t know this was a job.”  Ann nodded again.  The elevator chimed, having reached the ground floor. “Well shit, Ann,” Hilary shook her head, “If you would have done it for kicks, why be torn up that we got paid?”   Ann followed her friend off of the elevator, wiping her eyes furiously, trying to find an answer.  The other dancer paused at the front desk, demanding Ann give her the parking slip, which she somehow got validated before leading the way back into the garage and Ann’s RAV. 
 “I’m glad you enjoyed it, anyway,” the red head told Ann as she paid the parking attendant, making Ann tense and glare at her.  Hil laughed, but did not continue until the window was up and they had merged into traffic.  “You weren’t just putting on a show?”  Ann blushed, shaking her head.  “Damn, girl.  That’s hot.”
 “You weren’t getting off?” 
 “Shit, the last guy was basically dry humping me, that was a chore, making it seem like I was enjoying it.”
 “I did enjoy that,” Ann argued, “No he wasn’t huge… I don’t know that he was as deep as Tom fucks me, but…” she blushed, “I wasn’t faking it.”
 “So you’re a natural, then,” the read head praised, “I mean it, Ann… If you enjoy sex that much, why get all teary over profiting from it.” 
 “For one thing because I should only be having sex with Tom,” Ann argued.  Hil snorted.
 “So if Jacen is in the doorway when we get back and invites you in for a quickie you’re gonna say ‘no’?”  Ann bit her lip, because just the thought of it happening had her getting wet.  “And dressed like that…” Hil continued, eyeing Ann up and down, “I’d do you.” 
 “No you wouldn’t,” Ann complained, “You went into the bathroom and got dressed.”  Hil giggled.
 “Tell you what,” she said, “I’ll come over later this week and we can spend the day having fun.”  Ann nodded, smiling for the first time since she had realized what they had been doing. 
 “I’d like that,” she admitted.
 “So we’re okay, then?” Hil seemed anxious that Ann not be angry.  Ann nodded.
 “I’m sorry… I should have known you wouldn’t be having social orgies.”  She turned onto the same street as the club, part of her desperately hoping Jacen would be in the doorway when they pulled in.  “But we were having such fun, and Mal was… Mal was amazing.” 
 “Trust me, Ann,” Hil raised a finger to emphasize her point, “You’ll get more great cock working for Jacen and Les than if you were just trolling for cock in the clubs.”
 “But I’m not trolling for cock,” Ann insisted.  Hil shrugged.
 “No, I guess not.  But from where I sit you sure look hooked on the black snake.”  Ann blushed, but she did not argue.  “We’re cutting it close if you want to shower before work,” Hilary pointed out.
 “I’m not on again until Wednesday,” Ann said, to Hilary’s obvious amazement.
 “So it’s a good thing you got your fix today, then,” the red head teased, “Or you might kill your husband tonight.”  Ann smiled at the thought.  “Not to mention you might start a riot with a performance.”  Ann rolled her eyes at that, then found herself looking into the parking lot hopefully as she turned in.  Was Jacen’s bike parked at the back?  “Here’s fine,” Hilary gestured to the drop off, at the front of the building, “You can get on your way sooner so you can clean up before hubby gets home.”  Ann nodded her appreciation, turning back to the left.  A moment later Hil had jumped out of the car, but not before leaning over to kiss Ann full on the lips, murmuring, “Thanks for the assist today,” before she had opened the door. 
 Ann reentered traffic, a little anxious as she checked the clock that Tom would be home first.  And wondering if he would notice if he tried to have sex before she could clean up—would he know how she had spent her afternoon.  Tears threatened again, her mind a roil of conflicting emotions.  Would she rather be a slut than a whore?  How had she become such a slut?  How could she stop it… and did she really want to…
Coming next… VII: Singing the Blues