11. Flavor of the Month
Rosa was on top, bouncing wildly on my dick. Pattie, wearing just her server's apron, was leaning over me, and I was sucking her nipples. Then the door burst open and there was Rosa's husband. I thought 'Oh shit, we're all gonna die,' but he dropped his pants, moved in behind Rosa and stuck his cock up her ass. I could hear moaning, but it seemed to be kinda musical. "Oh, ohh-oh, Oh, ohh-oh, Ohhhhh"
My eyes flickered open, and I realized it was my ringtone. I'd set it to 'Use Somebody' by the Kings of Leon. (Justine told me I should change it to 'Sex on Fire'). Sleepily I picked up the phone. Shit! It was 9:45, and the name on the screen was "Coach Benedict".
"Morning - morning, sir," I answered, still sleepy.
"If it
is
still morning, Tommy. I just thought I'd phone to tell you that you're fired. Off the team."
"But coach, I'm - I'm not well. I'm sick, in bed. With 'flu."
"Tommy, I don't want to know how perverted your sex life is or the name of the gal you're in bed with. What I want is a reliable team player, and that isn't you. Sure, you're a talented
player
, but you're never
here
, on the
team,
Tommy. The
team
. So you can do what you like with your Saturdays from now on, my friend. You just won't spend them playing football with my
team
. Capiche?"
Fuck! "I'm so sorry, coach. But see, I'm not well. I feel exhausted."
"Well Tommy, when you get to feeling not exhausted, in maybe a month or two, try turning up early for a few practice sessions, and I'll see whether I believe you have the commitment necessary to play on my team. But don't try it too soon. See, I know it's outta season but I carry a baseball bat in my bag, just in case I see any lazy sumbitch around who keeps letting me down. It may be a few weeks before I feel disinclined to use it. Got that?"
"Sure coach. Sorry..." He ended the call before I could say any more
.
I slumped back onto the pillow. I'd set the alarm for seven-thirty, but when it rang, I guess I must've just hit the 'off' button and gone back to sleep. It was past three when I'd finally got in. After I'd kissed and hugged Sandra, helped her clean herself up, get dressed and leave, collected my money from Margie and went back to the dressing room, it was nearly midnight, and Reuben and I had another routine to do. We did the one with the headstands, which, as they say, 'went down well', if women throwing panties at us counts as a compliment. Then a half-hour later, I was going down well on a large lady in her late forties. Her thighs were big and I thought I'd suffocate when she closed them around my head. When we fucked, she grunted like a pig every time I thrust in, and it took me quite a while to get her to come. Oh, and I didn't come, though that was kinda deliberate. Still, two fifty - less the house cut - wasn't too bad for thirty minutes' work.
Three lap-dances, one with a hot mama and two with rather unappetizing ladies of somewhat over a certain age, and then another back-room with a curvy but attractive Indian lady. She wanted to kiss and hug and have lots of foreplay, which was OK by me.
"I thought Indian ladies were meant to be, kinda, straight and moral," I said as she took a tentative suck on my dick.
She smiled up at me. "You're thinking of Muslim women. I'm a Hindu. We can do whatever the fuck we like." She grinned, then took another mouthful of my cock. I'm no expert on comparative religion, but I felt sure that what she said wasn't strictly true. However, at that stage, anything she wanted to do with me, or wanted me to do to her, was just fine. After an extended bout of sixty-nine, in which she nearly made me come - her oral technique was really good - we fucked, first in doggy, and then in what I began to call 'dominant missionary'; that is, with her legs folded back toward her chest. Guys with smaller dicks I've met say that's the best way to get deep penetration. I clearly didn't need that, but it allows you to get great g-spot pressure while playing with the lady's tits and clit and, in my case, pounding the cushion beyond the cervix. ('The Cushion Beyond the Cervix' sounds like the title of a fantasy movie. Definitely my kind of fantasy).
Anyway, Maya (as she called herself) seemed to enjoy it, holding her legs back and apart while I pounded away, and (unlike Sandra) providing me with a torrent of absolutely filthy encouragement.
"Yes, yes! Pound that fucking wet cunt. Oh yes! Stuff me full of that horse cock. Shove it in hard! Deep! Oh yes! Go on, fuck me harder. Fuck this dirty Indian slut."
It took a while, but she came, pretty noisily. When she saw that I still hadn't come, she demanded a second fuck. We negotiated another hundred, and she asked me to tie her, spread-eagled, so I could really 'dominate this nasty Indian slave-whore'. I hadn't noticed before, but there were restraints attached under the bed and discreetly tucked away. I tied her, ate her pussy until I felt she was close, and then plunged in. This time, she only lasted a few minutes, while I was giving her all the filth and she was role-playing the helpless slave girl, which she clearly got off on.
"How do you - like that - you filthy Indian - slut?"
"Oh! Oh master! So - so big, so HUGE! Oh please, master, it hurts! You're pounding - pounding my poor little - little cunt - with that - that mighty cock! It's enormous, master. It's, huge, like a Shiva-lingam! You're - tearing me apart master!" And a lot more like that, while I hammered away, tweaked her big nipples, and rubbed her clit.
After she'd come, I pulled out, got some wipes and cleaned us both up. She was still tied to the bed when I disposed of the condom.
"You still haven't come! Wasn't I enough for you? Or are you connected to a Viagra drip between fucks?"
"Hey Maya, I have to hold back. If I come, then it's super-hard to get super-hard again later. You can go home and remember my dick while you wait for the soreness to subside. Me, I have to perform for the ladies out there, in more ways than one."
"Oh, OK. But maybe, if I come back next week, you can give me a nice slutty facial that I can wear around the club afterwards?"
"If that's what you'd like, Maya." I started untying her, and she took the opportunity to stroke my dick again. Sure, I wanted to come, but I was finding it was better to hold back, just in case the next one was ugly and I couldn't get it up.
"You sure you don't want me to suck you off? I'm very good at it."
"Maya, I've felt some of your oral technique, and I agree - you really are good at it. Maybe next time. Tonight I have work still to do,"
And so the night went on. My earlier enthusiasm for the job had almost evaporated after two more clients, neither of whom I'd have chosen to fuck if I hadn't taken their money. I did what I had to do, and they seemed happy, but I realized how whores must feel most of the time.
By around two, the audience was thinning out. There were no more takers for lap dances or private services, so I headed back to the dressing room. Reuben was there - getting a blow-job from Frankie. Neither seemed concerned that I'd arrived and was watching. I guess I should've felt jealous, but I'd teased and fucked so many women that night that I no longer cared. I grabbed a pair of Velcro underpants from my bag and headed back to the bar, leaving them to it.
Behind the bar, George, the barkeep, saw me coming. He poured me a Coke, and slyly slipped a shot of Jack Daniels into it. "Looks like you need this," he said, smiling.
"George, you're a life-saver."
"They say the first night is the worst. You worked hard tonight. I guess you'll be busy tomorrow." He glanced at his watch. "I mean, tonight, again. Once the novelty has worn off and most of the horny ladies in Scottsdale and Phoenix have seen your dick, it'll quieten down."
"I hope so. Shit, George, tonight I've fucked six women tonight. That's almost as many different women as I'd previously fucked in my entire life. If you add all the ones I lap-danced for, and not even counting the selfies and the casual passing strokes, more women have handled my cock in one evening than ever before."
"Stop complaining, my friend. I've been behind this bar for months and no-one's so much as offered me a blowjob. The place is awash with wet pussy and I get none of it. Life's fucking unfair." He grinned. "But there are worse jobs."
"Have you never thought of trying out as a stripper? You look pretty fit."
"Thanks, but no. I'm afraid I'm Mr. Average in the pants department. I've seen yours, and you're nearly twice my size. I don't think the ladies would be interested in seeing what I have. You and Diablo are extraordinary. There were some big guys here before, maybe eight, nine inches I guess, but you guys are like - woah! You're one lucky fucker."
"Really? I've fucked at least three women tonight who I wouldn't have gone near if they hadn't paid me. And the woman I'd most like to fuck is right now sucking off my partner."
"Frankie?"
"Yeah, how'd you guess?"
"Well, she's a bit of a slut. I think she's tried out every stripper who's worked here. But then so's Margie."
"I thought it was a rule of the club that she had to test-ride every new recruit."
"Well, she makes up the rules, so I guess that's true."
"What about you? Did Margie, er, 'interview' you?"
"Well, yes. I may not be as impressive as you down below, but my tongue's very flexible." He leaned in close. "She loves to be rimmed. She really gets off on it."
I finished my drink, thanked George and headed back to the dressing room. Reuben and Frankie were sitting together. Her shirt was off, and her really nice, large-ish titties had streaks of cum on them. Reuben was naked and smiling.