(Yes I know the difference between desert and dessert)
*In life we build and we destroy; know the difference*
(Memories)
It was the worst night of her life. She was sandwich between two men she didn't know, taking it up her pussy and her ass as they grunted and heaved her upright on her knees. She had one man's penis rammed down her throat while she furiously, desperately gave another one a hand job. The thing was she knew four more were circling out there, waiting their turn, or turn again, at her body.
She was well pasted begging them to stop, or even give her time to recover. All her cries did was egg them on. They already had covered her face, breasts and hair with their cum. This had been going on for hours and they promised they were only half way there. Her face was marked with tears though her body was in so much agony they had dried up yet still they kept coming for her.
When they finally stopped there was something broken in her, a damage to her psyche that might have healed except for one thing. It might have healed except the man she had gone through that all for; her boyfriend, Rodney, who had used her to cover his gambling debts, had left her the next day. No words; he was gone and she didn't even know why. Had she not done enough?
(Chelsea and Rose)
"Come on Baby," Rose called out softly to Chelsea, staring down on her sweat drenched form. "Same bad dream?" Chelsea nodded. Ten years down the road and it still haunted her.
"Let me make you feel better," Rose purred.
"Rose I ..." Chelsea started to resist.
"You always say 'no', but you end up saying 'yes'," Rose murmured as she put a mouth to Chelsea's closest nipple. Rose was right, her love was always enough to bandage the hurt and make it go away for a time. It was a patch that helped her get through the day with a promise that Rose would be there when the night terrors would come for her again.
Rose's hands worked their way across to the other breast, massaging it, top to midpoint, playing with the nipple but never for too long. She saved the pleasure for the closest nipple where she suckled like a child with small gentle pulls that drove Chelsea crazy. Only when her whole body writhed in joyous release did Rose allow her hand to slide down and move between her thighs.
"Someone is very wet tonight," Rose observed. Chelsea nodded hungrily and couldn't stop herself from moaning. Rose slipped to fingers gently in, snug and tight into Chelsea's snatch. Contrary to her profession, Chelsea didn't have sex too often on or off the job. Her body and technique were hot enough that as an exotic dancer she didn't need those little extras to get by.
Rose brought the fingers up to her favorite nipple and coated it in Chelsea's juices. She murmured when she combined the three flavors, Chelsea's juices, sweat, and flesh into one orgasmic delight. It only made her tongue twirl harder to take more of her lover in. It was almost with reluctance that she dipped down to Chelsea's cunt for a second dose, but this one for Chelsea's lips.
Chelsea loved her own taste and loved it even more when she could suck it off of Rose's fingers which would move and wiggle inside her mouth, tantalizing and teasing as Chelsea's tongue sought out every taste. By the time Rose returned for the third time, Chelsea was closing on the verge. Now Rose plunged in with those two fingers while rubbing Chelsea's clit with her thumb.
"Aaahhh!" Chelsea screamed out soon enough. Getting Chelsea to orgasm the first time was always easy. She was such a willing receptacle of pleasure, her body so eager to please that it fueled a deep down sense of anger from Rose for whoever had hurt her so badly. For Chelsea it even lessened her anger about those nearly faceless men so long ago.
Chelsea lay panting beside Rose who drank the juices from one hand while making soft and gentle lines along Chelsea's profile.
"Good enough?" Rose teased.
"It is not the same thing," Chelsea answered after a moment's sad introspection.
(Kyle)
He had come into the bar as part of a friend's bachelor party. He had immediately seemed out of place, so honest and open; neither wide-eyed nor arrogant. She noticed him staring at her from the moment she came on stage. That wasn't unusual; she was used to the attention. It was how she made money after all.
What had struck her was when he smiled up at her. She wasn't doing anything in particular that would have elicited that response. He smiled at her without leering or being embarrassed. He got up and gave her money, but he didn't try to do anything dangerous. After her performance she came down and did some lap-dances which were the norm.
Chelsea worked over his crowd of friends well. Bachelor parties were good for that, along with all kinds of efforts to get the girls to come up the hotel rooms afterwards. Chelsea avoided those. When she got to her boy, he'd asked her if he could touch her. Something made her say yes, so she got the bouncer's attention to give the man a warning and told the client to grab away.
He put his hands on her waist. He never went for the ass or the breasts. Something about dancing for him felt nice. It was the way he looked at her and the way she made him smiled.
"Is there any chance I can talk to you outside of this place? I know it may not be allowed and I'll understand if this is out of bounds, but I'd like to see you sometime."
Chelsea had never done it before. Contacts outside of the club never went over well. Guys wanted a cheap whore or a trophy to brag to their friends about. She gave the guy, Kyle, her number and he had given his in exchange. Chelsea had smirked; if she ever needed to find a real estate developer she knew who to call.
He had called the next afternoon to set up a date for the following evening. Rose had laughed at her. The running bet was between Denny's for a quick bang in the back of his car and Caesar's for an all-nighter with room service. Instead he took her to a place called Charlie's. It wasn't a restaurant she'd even heard before.
"What's up with this place?" Chelsea asked over her lobster. Kyle looked up shyly.
"This was my favorite spot in high school. I was so nervous asking you out that I opted for a place I would feel comfortable," he admitted. Chelsea looked him over. Guys were normally sleazy assholes who rarely looked passed her tits and ass. Somehow ...
"What color are my eyes?" she asked him.
"Hazel with gold flecks," Kyle answered without hesitation. "They are really intense," he added.
"What do you like best about me?" Chelsea persisted.
"Your smile," he grinned. "It is what drew me to you."
"I don't smile on stage," Chelsea caught him in the lie.
"You did right before you came on. The girl who danced before you, Opal, said something and you smiled," he explained. Chelsea thought about that for a second.
"And because of that you decided to ask me out?" she tried to mock him.
"Pretty much, yes; you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and I decided I'd at least try and see if you would go out with me," Kyle explained. Chelsea sulked for a while.
"Why do you find it hard to believe I would want to go out with you because I like spending time with you?" he asked
Chelsea looked at him with no good answer.
"Listen, I like you so why don't we go back to your place and ...you know ..." Chelsea smiled.
"I ... wow, I was hoping to take you out to a nightclub after dinner," Kyle informed her. "I figured that since you had to wait on tables so much you would like to be waited on for a change."
