Alice Pt 01 1

This is another one of those stories that pop into my head, and then take off. Not sure where this one will go, or when it will end. I hope you enjoy the ride.

I could, and maybe should have, put this story (though, not necessarily this part) in several different categories; however, most of my stories are lengthy, and therefore, I feel they should be in Novels and Novellas. Occasionally, I will write a story with one part, and put it in the appropriate category. Doing it this way, I hope my followers have an easier time finding my stories.

I write for my own enjoyment. I hope you get some enjoyment from reading my offering.

I need to thank my editor, kenjisato, for his patience, time, and effort, in knocking the rough edges off this story and making it a smoother read. I am deeply indebted to you.

All sex depicted herein is between consenting adults over the age of eighteen. No animals were harmed in this story. Please leave feedback. If you didn't like it, ask for a refund???

Alice - Part 1

My name is Jack Johnson. My friends call me JJ. I am eighteen years old, soon to be nineteen, I have just started my junior year in high school. My parents are James and Doris Johnson. My dad is a lead engineer of the tool-and-die department for a large manufacturing company, with a plant just a few miles from our house.

I never remember mom and dad having arguments of any kind. I know all marriages have rough patches. If mom and dad do argue, then they keep it hidden very well. Mom is a mostly stay-at-home mom. She works part-time in a department store.

My mom receives the dreaded phone call that no spouse wants to get. My dad had collapsed at his desk, and had passed away from a major heart attack. My mother is devastated. Going through the funeral and getting the affairs settled is just a blur of a bad dream. Between working through my grief and helping my mother work through her grief, I end up having to repeat my junior year in high school. During the grieving process, my mother and I lean on each other becoming close.

I stand six-foot-five and weigh a svelte two-hundred-seventy-five pounds. I work out a lot and stay in shape. I am not really into organized sports. Besides working out, I stay in shape by practicing Taekwondo. I have been practicing Taekwondo for a few years. I currently have a brown belt. Taekwondo is what got me into working out. I wanted more power in my kicks and punches.

After my dad's death, I had become rebellious. Teenage hormones and going through the grieving process contribute to my rebellion. I have developed serious anger issues with the world- the only person I trust and care about is my mom. I have several encounters of the violent kind where I usually come out on top. If a guy is lucky enough to land a good punch or a kick, I kind of black out seeing red, and I will beat whomever into submission.

As part of my rebellion, I end up hanging around with a local motorcycle club. My mom has never been crazy about me hanging out with my 'biker friends', but I make a promise to her that I will not let my 'biker activities' interfere with my grades. The Sargent at Arms, 'Meatball' gives me a good dressing down and lays down the law.

He knows about my anger issues and warns me to check my attitude, if I want to survive. It is against his better judgement to let a wet-behind-the-ears punk play hang around. He is going to be watching my every move. If I fuck up once, he is going to stomp a mud hole in my ass, then stomp it dry. He reinforces that it will be a chapter vote if I progress from hang around to prospect. My road name is 'Meat', partly because Meatball looks out for me, and partly because I am well-endowed.

I had not realized at the time, what a favor Meatball had done for me by letting me play hang around. True to his word, he keeps his eye on me. When I fuck up or try to get away with something, he comes down on me hard. His punishments are swift and to the point.

During the summer right before my senior year, I had been made a prospect. Meatball hands me the prospect patch. "Look, you fucking prospect. I stood up for you. Now when you fuck up, it blows back on me. If you fuck up bad enough or often enough, I'll cut that fucking prospect patch off without a second thought. Do you understand?" he asks. I nod. "I can't fucking hear a nod prospect."

"Yes, sir. I understand that blowback from my stupid shit lands on you."

I can't be a patch until I am at least twenty-one. I am not worried about a patch. I like hanging around with the members and listening their stories. When a serious conversation is needed, or club business is discussed, I know my place, and it is outside the clubhouse. Getting my patch will be determined by my dedication to the club. My college plans will interfere with my ability to support club activities.

After I graduate high school, the weekend before I am scheduled to go to college. I get a message from Meatball.

'Hey kid. I need you to pick up my ol' lady after work tonight. Tell her I've got out-of-town club business to take care of. Keep her in a good mood. Give her what she wants. Take her to dinner, whatever. Her name is Candy. She gets off at Sonny's at midnight. Don't be late and keep her in a good mood. I hate coming home to a bitch. You Dig! Let me know what it costs you, so I can square up.

'

I send him a thumbs up emoji. I leave the clubhouse about ten-thirty PM and ride the forty-five-minute route to Sonny's. I walk up to the door man and tell him why I am there. He gives me the stink eye. I tell him that neither Candy nor Meatball will be happy if she has to stand around outside. I am not going to pay a cover charge just to come in for what I am doing. I walk in and find a stand-up table to the side of a stage. Being taller than your average Joe, it is easy for me to see all the action. The waitresses hustling drinks. The off-duty dancers are hustling for specials, or lap dances, or private-room dances.

The bouncer set up is pretty good. Besides the guy at the door, there is one guy at the entrance to the private-dance room. There is a guy on each side of the main stage. They stay out of the way, but are ready to move if any of the girls needed help. It takes my eyes a few minutes to get acclimated to the dim light. I get a bottle of water from one of the waitresses and tip a five spot.

I have just broken the seal on the bottle, when I see this vision of loveliness walking out of the private dance room. She is tall five foot seven inches, then you add the eight-inch 'come-fuck-me' pumps. She has bright-red hair that sets off her green eyes to perfection. Her complexion is perfect, either that, or the makeup is perfect. Very, Very, enhanced breasts; I would estimate forty-six-inch double G. Everything wiggles and jiggles perfectly when she walks. She has perfect legs. They come from slender ankles, and up to delicious calves, then to delectable thighs, and on to perfect ass cheeks. She easily spots me and makes her way over to me. "Hello, you're a tall drink of water."

"Hello, has anybody told you today how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing. I assume from the cut, that you are here to pick me up when I get off."

"Are you Miss Candy?"

She smiles at me and nods her head.

"Meatball requested that I come by make sure you get home safely. He said he had to go out of town for club business. He also told me to make sure you are happy and in a good mood for when he gets home. If you are hungry, we can go out and grab a bite."

She looks me up and down, "Sweetheart, I am definitely going to grab a bite. You stay right here. I have got to dance my last set. I'll clean up and change clothes. I'll meet you right here. I assume we will be riding?"

I smile and nod.

"Good. Putting something exciting between my legs is the best way to work up an appetite." She strokes my face, turns to the dressing room, and gives me the best view in the house. In my head, I hear the drum beat in the background- ba-boom, ba, ba-boom, ba, ba-boom - with each step, and then with my eyes, I watch the subsequent jiggle of her ass that follows each step. Jesus, she has sex oozing out of every pore.

It is about ten minutes later, a spotlight comes on and shines on the curtain at the back of the main stage.

A voice on the PA system speaks, "Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce our next act. This lady is hotter than a firecracker, louder than a sonic boom. She is sweeter than honey and cooler than the other side of the pillow. Let's give a special Sonny's welcome to Miss Candy."

There is robust clapping, whistles, and yells from across the room. I feel that I am in for a treat.

She comes through the curtain and the place goes wild. She is wearing a rhinestone-encrusted, silver thong with a skirt that is made from strings of rhinestones, which are about an inch apart and about two feet long. They are attached to a rhinestone waist string that rides on Miss Candy's hips. She is wearing a silver bra that is covered in rhinestones, and has strings of rhinestones about a foot long that mirror the curvature of her breasts.

The music starts with 'Proud Mary' - the Tina Turner rendition. Miss Candy is doing her best Tina Turner imitation. She is using the pole as a prop, moving around it and dancing. I am mesmerized like every red-blooded man in the room, as well as a few women, by her movements and the sway of her ginormous breasts and the jiggle in her ass and thighs, as she performs the fast-paced steps. The tempo of the music and the imitation of the Queen of Rock 'n' Roll's dance movements are a sight to behold.

She is working up a sweat, and beads of perspiration fly off her body, as she continues to dance. Her red hair is becoming matted from the sweat and the movements. Right at the end of the song, she removes her top and throws it right to me. When the bra goes flying, the place erupts. Applause, wolf whistles, and energetic yells fill the room. The patrons gain access to a vision that most of the hard dicks in here can only dream about. A bouncer immediately comes to me and asks for the costume. I gladly comply not wanting any trouble.

As the music stops, Candy jiggles her breasts causing them to sway from side to side. The place erupts, and wave after wave of dollar bills fly onto the stage. Two waitresses with push brooms sweep the money behind the curtain. Candy gets a well-deserved drink of water before signaling the DJ to continue.

The next song is 'People Are Strange' from Jim Morrison. She kicks off her shoes in the direction of the back curtain. The tempo of this song allows her to sway around the pole, working her body to best display her tits and ass. She twirls around the pole, both forward and backward, curling her long legs around the pole to speed up or slow down the twirl. She goes through a lot of beginner moves that she has perfected to show off her tits as much as possible.

Towards the end of the song, she does a crucifix hold on the pole and releases the skirt, allowing it to fall at her feet, as she slides down the pole. She ends this song, performing a sun-wheel twirl, where she ends up doing the splits behind the pole, then lays on her back and raises her legs in a V- shape. She humps and grinds her hips on the floor and grinds against the pole. The place goes wild again.

She gets up slowly, blowing kisses, and winks milking the crowd. A tsunami wave of dollar bills come flying onstage. The waitress twins with shop-floor brooms move the money behind the curtain. She gets another quick drink of water, and then signals the DJ to continue her music.

The third song in her set is another from Tina Turner - 'What's Love Got To Do With It.' Her performance with this music has less pole tricks and more grind. Candy grinds on the pole, and uses pole moves to get down to the floor, and grinds on the floor. There isn't a soft cock in the place. She has everyone present eating out of her hand- but wishing they were eating at the Y.

She pulls the thong as high as she can, giving views of her nearly naked camel toe. She bends over and grabs her ankles, showing as much as she can. She flexes her butt muscles, and the pulls her ass cheeks apart; giving them what they want, but will never have. She gives them the face-forward crawl with the sultry look, and then spins around giving them a reverse-cowgirl grind on the pole as the music ends.

The place erupts with applause and whistling and catcalls. She stands and gives the audience an appreciative bow, shaking her gigantic boobs on the way back up. The money is almost ankle deep onstage. She blows kisses and waves. The waitresses sweep the money behind the curtain. When she steps behind the curtain, a chant of "More! More! More!" starts. It quickly dies down when the DJ announces, "Last call."

The next couple of girls are not as polished or experienced as Candy. I certainly would not want to follow Candy's act. Besides Candy having the body of a stripper goddess, with pole-dancing moves that are hard to match, she emptied quite a few wallets tonight.

Candy comes out of the dressing room, wearing a turtleneck sweater, skin-tight jeans, and knee-high boots with about three-inch heels. She is carrying a leather jacket, and pulling a small, wheeled piece of luggage behind her. She motions for me to come with her. I follow and carry her jacket for her.

We walk upstairs to a small room, where there's a table, which appears to be custom built for this room. On it, there is bill counter, and a couple of chairs. Another door lies opposite side from the one we entered.

She opens the suitcase and removes a pile of money. She sorts through her money by denomination, and flattens the bills as best she can. While most of the cash is one-dollar bills, there are many five-dollar bills, the occasional ten, and even a few twenties. She sets the denomination on the machine and runs the bills through. She has 1147 dollars in singles. She has almost two-hundred dollars in other bills, and she made another thousand dollars from lap and private dances.

She pushes an intercom button, and a squawky voice asks, "How much?"

"A thousand, if you can."

"For you Candy, anytime."

A buzzer goes off, indicating the door is unlocked. Candy gets up, motions for me to stay, and walks through the door.

She is back in just a couple of minutes. She puts all the money in her suitcase and removes an envelope that has some money in it. She gives me a peck on the cheek. "I need to make one stop on the way out, and then I'm all yours, sweetie."

I blush and stand up.

"Damn, sweetie, you're a tall drink of water."

"Yes ma'am."

"Stop that shit, right there. There ain't no ma'am here. I'm Candy, Miss Candy, Lover, Goddess, or Mistress. Take your pick, but be careful of what you wish for, you might bite off more than you can chew." She pulls me down and gives me a toe-curling kiss.

My dick gets hard, and I must adjust myself for comfort.

She smiles, and gives me a stroke. "Good Lord, lover, you are packing some serious weight. OK, lover take me home and drop the luggage off. I need to clean up, and I am starving."

We stop at the bar on the way out. She slides an envelope of money across to the bartender. We continue, walking out to the bike. I secure the luggage to the bike, where she locks it and puts the key in her bra. I hand her my spare helmet. She puts on her leather jacket. I saddle up, back out of my parking spot, and giving her a hand up, she slides on right behind me. Her comfort level on a bike is obvious. She wraps her arms around me, and immediately begins to rub my inner thighs, gradually making her way to my crotch. She is checking out my package, assuring herself that it is real.

When we get to her house, she dismounts as soon as I kill the engine on my Road King. She removes her helmet and pulls me in for another kiss. "Lover, I'm going to have fun with this tonight." She laughs and strokes my dick through my ever-tightening jeans. "Get the suitcase and follow me."

I take off my helmet, remove the suitcase from the bike, and follow Candy into the house. I lock the front door behind me, and take off my cut.

"Bring the suitcase back here, lover."

I follow the sound of her voice. When I break the plane of the bedroom door, Candy walks out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Strip and join me in the shower, lover."

I sit on the side of her bed and remove my boots and socks. I stand and remove my shirt. I then unbuckle and slide my jeans with my underwear down and off. She stands at the bathroom doorway watching my every move. Her smile grows bigger with each square inch of flesh that is exposed. My dick stands out hard and proud, just like Candy's nipples. Her nipples are as big as my pinkie from the first knuckle to the tip.

She extends her hand and I gladly extend mine. We enter the shower enclosure and get our bodies thoroughly wet. She hands me a bottle of shampoo and places her hands against the wall, extending her beautiful ass cheeks back towards my throbbing cock. I lather her hair, and as I give her a scalp massage, she wiggles her sudsy ass cheeks against my cock.

I bend my legs allowing my dick to penetrate the Bermuda triangle, you know the area where the thighs meet the vagina. I stroke back and forth across her pussy lips. She reaches down and presses my cock against her pussy lips giving us both the maximum contact possible. Both of us groan with the pleasurable sensations. I rinse her hair and lather it up again. As soon as I rinse her hair a second time, she hits the shower pause button.

She immediately turns around and we embrace. I follow her lead, both with the kissing and the body fondling. She is stroking my cock, and I, in turn, give her cunt manual stimulation. I reach a little further and gently press on her star. I probe her pussy a little, fingerfucking her, while searching for her G-spot. She shivers and clutches me a little tighter when I stimulate that hidden spot. I move from her G-spot to her clit and massage it for a couple of minutes before returning to the hidden spot.

She holds my shoulders and humps my hand. "Damn, lover. You know how to give a girl pleasure."

"I try. I always try to give my lover at least two orgasms before we consummate our lovemaking."

"Good rules to live by. Most guys with a package like yours, don't know how to use it. They also don't know how to please a woman, and don't care. I am going to test that tonight."

"I think I am ready for that test."

We continue to kiss, and I continue to give her pleasure with my hands. It isn't too long before her legs slap closed. My hand is trapped, and she grinds on it. Her body quivers when my fingers make certain movements, or my hand contacts intimate parts of her body. I kiss up and down her neck, and eventually, I leave a trail of kisses down to her huge titties.

Candy loves me playing with her big breasts. She moans and groans when I suck her huge nipples in my mouth and tease them with my tongue. I chew on her nipples, biting them hard, but not too hard. She holds my head in place, liking my methods.

I begin to massage both of her big breasts and kiss my way across her ribs and stomach. I kiss around her belly button and tongue it, her stomach muscles reacting to the tongue tickle. The scent of her arousal fills the shower enclosure and my nostrils.

When I move down across her mons, peppering her body with kisses, she entwines her fingers in my hair. She throws one leg over my shoulder, giving me better access to the source of her arousal. I use my tongue to part her pussy lips. I graze her clit with my tongue. Miss Candy has a large clit that is prominent. It is very sensitive, and she loves me playing with it, almost as much as I enjoy giving her pleasure.