Women. I love women. Now, don't get me wrong, I like men too. But there's only one man that I want now, and I've got him already. Women, on the other hand, well, I can say that they still turn my head. There is something about a woman that breaths sensuality, sexuality. I doubt anybody can say otherwise. The shape of a female's lips, the way that the small of her back molds slowly into the curve of her hips and the slope of her ass.. The shape of the female sex itself. All is bred for functionality, but in that functionality is found aesthetic beauty. There is a reason that the Grecian goddess of love was just that, a goddess..
You make love to a woman. Even as a woman that's what you do. You can't make love the same way to a man. Granted, a man can fuck a woman. But only a woman can be made love to. A man, though, he can excite in a completely different way. My man, he excites me when he takes me, when he takes advantage of my sensuality and my womanhood.. To him I give submission. I could never give that to a woman the same way I give it to him.
Those are all things I thought as we drove, my Master and I. To the Pussy Corral. I know. Not as romantic as some might like. A kind of terse name really. There's often nothing romantic about these places. It's sex, pure and simple. I often wonder, while there, how often these women are looked at in the way I look at them. Not objects of simple lust. I appreciate the whole of them, not just tits and ass. When I desire a woman I want ALL of her. I don't want just the bits. I want to make her whole room disappear. Maybe that's why I'm so welcome here. When I look at them, even the men love to watch that.. When they dance for me then the men always want to see more.. They tip to see more.
As we walk in I see a few familiar faces. We've been here before. A few male pairs of eyes turn our way, mostly for me.. I cut a stunning figure. I won't lie. Lithe and with auburn hair, hazelish eyes. I dress my body lovingly, to be noticed without looking that way. Today was no different. I wore a short skirt, not sinfully so, black and flared slightly so it licked at midthigh. I knew that if I bent just right it'd slide up enough to show the seam of my thigh high stockings. The choker (black leather and my public collar) and a simple red top that hugged my curves and showed off just enough cleavage as well as black ankle-strap high heels finished my look. Sex.. It was like wearing sex, and the eyes on my Master and me confirmed that.
I slid into a small booth, followed by my Master. We snugged close together, me in the crook of his arm where I belonged. We watched silently, at first. We'd pick our favourite later. We'd done this a few more times. I remember the first time. He'd said he'd decided to give me a treat. I had no idea what treat he meant, but I obeyed and followed his directions. I dressed as sexily as I could, much like today, and he'd taken me here, to this very same strip bar. We'd watched and waited, going through several cycles of girls until he found the one he liked.. A gorgeous Asian woman..
She came right to us when she was finished, asking right out if we wanted a dance, a dance just for us. He told her no, and she seemed disappointed. I found out later that he'd been looking for that. He added, as an almost after thought, "I want to watch you dance for her," as he nodded his head to me. Oh, it felt like Christmas. If only you could have seen this girl.
She couldn't have been more then five foot five inches, but she filled our space. Her scent seemed to be every place as she drew closer, musky and deep, dark as her eyes. They drew me in, those eyes. I followed them out of our booth and into a chair nearby. I loved watching those eyes. They were almond shaped, slanted gently. She kohled her lashes and lined her lower lids perfectly. It made her eyes look larger but accentuated their exoticness. And that hair. I can remember that hair. It draped over my arms like silk, dark, deep black silk, as she tossed her head and danced for me.
I was careful, placing my hands at her hips gently. I knew I shouldn't. I knew that a man would be asked to stop, but she didn't tell me that. She let me caress my hands down her hips. I teased at the elastic of her g-string, never meaning to really remove it, and she laughed softly. She leaned in, whispering huskily in my ear, "I'd let you.. But," and she just shrugged her shoulders, turning to grind her ass against my lap. God.. I wanted her, he could see that.. So could the others.. And I knew the poor soul on the main stage wasn't getting the attention she probably deserved. I didn't care.
This girl, this Asian morsel, she kept going, letting me loosen the strings of her top so it fell away. Then she turned again, her breasts at eye level. Perfect. That's all a person can think when faced with exactly that. I wanted to reach out and touch them.. But I knew that would be going to far.. She leaned in again, and her heated breath teased my ear lobe as she spoke again, "I think I want you."
