Moments later, he came over and stood between her legs, pushing them open completely exposing her muff to anyone close enough to look between them.
"Fuck!" She whispered, pulling him down to shove her tongue into his mouth. "When are we going to leave?" She needed to cum. She needed to feel him fuck her. She couldn't sit here any longer and it had only been 20 minutes.
"After paying that cover? We're here to dance, baby. Those guys are waiting to see you dance. And maybe they'll pay for a little private session, eh?" His voice dripped with stage villainy, over the top play-acting.
"Please stop," she pleaded. "I don't know how long I can keep this up. And you can't be serious!" She looked at his face for any hint of teasing.
He shrugged. "You're the whore. You tell me. You want to have them watch you do shit?" His hands drifted below her arms, rubbing against the sides of her breasts.
"No, Johnno. No." She whispered it, shaking her head. "Let's go. Can we go?"
Now he shook his head. "I'm gonna have a dance with you. Let's just get out there and have some fun. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but I think you want to dance." He reached down to hold her hand.
She looked down to see the stool top glistening and looked back up at him. "I...I can't get up...I've made a mess!" He could barely hear her over the din of the room.
"Ummm, miss?" He motioned to the bartender. "My girlfriend spilled her drink. Can you get me a wet rag?"
His fingers pulled out, wiping her juices on her butt cheeks, breaking the memory. She shuddered at the thought of him handing the towel back to the woman and her confused expression when she smelled Diane's juices.
"Drink?"
She looked up from the floor, still recovering from her climax. Each time he pushed her harder she came harder, and each time she forgot where she was for a moment. She nodded and pushed back, feeling the cramps in her thighs and shoulders.
"Come on out back."
She followed him through his living room to the kitchen, and then out to the back porch. It was another game he had started with her, going on two weeks. She wasn't allowed to be clothed at his house. Once inside, she stripped everything off. It didn't matter if they sat outside, she stayed nude. It didn't bother her since his cottage backed up to an empty lot filled with trees. Still, she always felt like looking up to see if a drone was hovering overhead.
The first night she did it she was constantly surprised when he walked into the room. She'd realize she was nude and jumped when he "caught her." But then she'd remember she was supposed to be naked and she'd take a breath to calm down. And then she'd get a jolt as she realized he was staring at her or he'd come over to stroke her skin. And since then, nine times out of ten, she'd moan and realize it was because she was his whore, and
that
would give her another jolt!
"You read my note?" He handed her an iced lemonade.
She nodded. "Yeah. He's in deep shit, yeah?"
He pressed his lips together, looking out at the stars. "Big shit from what I heard. Definite jail time. Multiple counts of statutory rape. I'm kinda surprised how quick it went, actually."
Surprised and relieved
. Harrison's legal team had been aggressively looking for who took the photographs, and Johnno hadn't slept well that first week. And then a plea bargain had been entered, and the whole thing just went quiet. The discovery of an incriminating laptop and drone in Harrison's basement closet (which Harrison vigorously and publicly denied any knowledge of) cinched the deal. It meant there was an accomplice, which Harrison would never reveal, but the public had assumed had made the call. "I'll feel a lot better when this is over."
She sat back and let the cool air wash over her. She was sweaty and covered in her cum and she felt like a skank. And felt...good. Which she struggled with. But the last four weeks had been a whirlwind of changes - unlike anything she'd felt with Harrison.
"You can't be serious, Johnno, are you?"
They were on the dance floor, her breasts bouncing to the backbeat. It was better than showing off her naked vagina to the whole room, but not much. He looked at her, confused.
"About...about having them watch me..." She had to say it loudly for him to hear. It made her angry when he smiled.
"How much is it worth?"
She lost the beat for a moment, shocked.
"Don't look so offended!" He was still smiling, his body moving in time with hers, their voices almost shouting, but still hard to hear.
"But...oh fuck! We can't talk about this here!" She lost herself in the music, feeling her sticky thighs and wondering how far she would let him push her.
And then, in his truck, later, when she needed him to take her, he held off. Teasing her.
"Please, Johnno. I did everything you asked! Now, let's find a quiet spot somewhere and fuck!"
"I'm wondering," he said, driving slowly away from the club. "What do you think they'd want to see you doing...that they'd pay good money for?"
She looked at his face, barely lit by the dashboard and breathed out slowly. This was getting way out of hand. But the more she thought about it, the wetter she got. "I'd...do we have to...shit...I don't know..."
He waited, the sound of gravel crunching as they exited the lot to get on the highway. "Off. Please take off the dress. Completely."
The thought someone would see her raced through her mind, just as a car passed them. She tried to make out what the passenger looked like and couldn't tell. Maybe there wasn't one. It was too dark, too fast. Her smell filled the cab again and she let go, pulling her dress up and over her head in one motion.
"What would you expect them to want?"
She licked her lips, her dress bunched up between the two of them.
"They'd want to watch me strip," she said quietly. "Like on a web cam, or something."
