New Girl At Club Naw Tee Ch 03

Her body moved to a beat others couldn't hear as our pulses slammed in unison with the blow. I expected her to get all herky-jerky with its pounding rhythms, but instead she went the other way, a slow motion sexual vortex of flesh. This day is going great, I thought. Only get better, Forebrain murmured happily as Lizard Brain could only babble Dick, Lady, Hard, Tits, shit like that.

"Tell you a *fantasy*," the vibrating girl moaned again, almost a whimper, as she traced slow motion curls in the air with her wriggling form. "I mean, I could tell you that I've always, mmm, fantasized," her hands went to the straps on her shoulders and eased them down way too goddamn fucking slowly, "about a man just like you."

"Liar," I smirked. Yeah talk some more I don't care, Forebrain groaned, on a roll now.

She looked almost hurt. "No, really... guys I grew up with... The boys in my youth group, at my school, in my tiny, tiny fucking backwards ass town..." Withdrawing her arms from the shoulder straps, she held her hands high above her head in a long languid Singer Sargent pose; no, not Sargent: some artist that could appreciate a woman like this, like a Reubens. Her long, curvy body was like a big buttery statue in some lust temple.

She jerked her head a bit to get my attention, then jerked her jaw at the bodysuit's zipper. It started right at the bottom of her cleavage between her lovely giant boobies; she looked at me with this twitchy dust-addled smile, teasing me with promise.

My hand was on the zipper before I even told it to move and I was yanking, yanking,

"Ssslowwwww," she complained in a whisper. "I ain't going anywhere, baby."

Right. Slow. I reached up and grasped the zipper -- incredibly conscious of my fingers brushing tit flesh -- and pulled more slowly and carefully. Now it released to me, the suit spreading to allow all the lovely epidermis below access to the dingy lights of this shitty place.

"Thank you," she whispered. Music was thumping in busted speakers and Fuckin' Todd, once again, too close to the goddamn microphone. I heard her perfectly with no issues.

Her mouth fell open, and with practiced sensuality and a gleam in her eye she ran her fingers over the newly exposed areas. With another unspoken request she held her arms for me to peel off the latex sleeves. Good girl, remembering I had in fact specified naked. For a second she broke character, scratching rapidly at where the sleeves had encased her lovely arms, giggling that this felt really good.

Then in a flash she brought sexy back. "Seriously, lover... Older men. Always my thing. Older guys with thick, dark, full hair..." Her fingers stroked my scalp, her now-bare arms pushing her tits together to make even deeper cleavage in my face. Again I thanked the gods that I was getting older but still had all my hair, only recently starting to grey at the sides. "I'm sorry I said you were funny looking. You're not," she shook her head slowly. "Kinda cute, maybe. The beard's growing on me." She playfully yanked it, and I hated that shit, but it was her, so no problem.

"Mmmm. Tell me more about how much you like me."

She laughed lightly, then grasped the hair on my head once more and pulled gently. "No. Don't wanna. In fact I don't really wanna tell you a fantasy." And she leaned forward and her boobs were on my face, not just pressed against but rubbing, caressing, stroking me with her flawless chest. "I'd rather tell you a really sexy story... Would that be okay, Mister? Y'know I'm starting to kinda like the sound of that, 'Mister'..."

She pulled away and rolled into my lap. Her tremendous ass, then her full weight, felt perfect on me; she didn't try to hold back from letting herself collapse into me fully. It reminded me of childhood for some reason, but her ass rolling against my hard dick most definitely did not.

"It says I might never know your name, but we can be... intimate." She drew out the word as her hands teased the suit, her head lolled back against mine as she gave me glimpses of what the blue latex covered. "So, Mister, story over fantasy... does that satisfy subclause B of condition number one, herewith on this day..." and she giggled; it felt amazing feeling it ripple through her big body against mine.

"Uh, sure baby," I replied, my tongue hot and thick in my mouth. God I love coke.

"Mmm, thanks Mister," she pushed forward, her flaring hips more prominent as she leaned away from me to rub all that cake and her very warm crotch against mine in hard, firm circles. There's no song playing as far as I can tell, though I know there has to be -- I can see "Mitzi" just about fingering herself as she writhes on the ugly stage --

"Hey," she's snapping her fingers, standing now and leaning forward, one hand pushing my chest into the sofa. "You ain't watching other hoes while I'm dancing for you, is ya?" But she can't suppress that snigger.

"N-no, 'course not," I say. "I would never--"

"Liar," she says simply, and pushes her tits up at me. It's the first viewing of her nipples this dance, and they shake and bounce as fingers squeeze and pinch for my pleasure. "So yeah, a story." And with flowing ease, she began her tale, peeling away the latex top.

"Once upon a time, in the middle of... Bay-nask-bra," she chortled at her stupid joke, but it was cute. "There lived a young girl who, despite being a very good girl who loved Jesus, was just over eighteen," she poked her tongue at me for a second then continued, "when she grew these great... big... titties." She shook them at me. Goddamn.

"Plus she was just cursed to have this big, round, sexy ass..." Cue cake again: her hips were a couple inches wider than her shoulders, and the natural hourglass her body formed was damn near Platonic ideal.

"And all those high school boys... and a lot of the older men, the nasty perverts," and she poked my chest hard for a second with an extended knuckle, ow. "They made this poor girl feel like she'd done something wrong... Like, God had made her for something, something she wasn't sure she wanted to be."

"That's... so very very sad," I agreed, my eyes tracing her body, my skin soaking up her touch as she writhed against me.

"It really was," she nodded. "The poor girl didn't know what to do," she complained, shifting her weight and holding her body for me to gaze at, "all these high school seniors, all these nasty older men, wanted her to be something she wasn't... at least, not yet," her voice dropping as she unsnapped the leggings, and pushed the bodysuit down and off, kicking it to the side. Her pussy was completely uncovered now, shaven save for a thin ginger landing strip pointing the way. That's really my favorite styling: smooth enough to allow lips to slide between mine, enough hair to show I'm not breaking any laws. I stared at Jennifer's cunt in awe as she rolled her hips slowly.

She pointed at her still-covered legs questioningly, and I nodded. She reached to take my hands, guiding my fingers to assist her in peeling the blue away from her expanding flesh. I was very conscious of my hand close to her crotch because I could feel the moist heat it generated. This was fucking great.

"Maybe she was that word that the girls called her... slut," she said sharply. She pinched her nipples hard as she posed before me, completely naked but for one rainbow sock.

"Maybe she should give in. Maybe she should fuck and suck every straight guy in the county, maybe some of the queer ones too," she giggled but quickly resumed her slow gyrating before and against me. "Maybe she should be the horny teenage whore that all the other stupid bitchy girls in town say she is. All the old men's wives, too, despite all the girl had ever done, was be a good girl for Jesus. It's not her fault Jesus gave her these sexy round boobies."

She kneeled and leaned forward, presenting her breasts to me, hefting their weight back and forth. Despite the lovely display, now I was starting to feel bad for her, growing up too sexy. Not the way I wanted this to be going, but as long as she said 'fuck' and 'suck' and the like a few more times, I'd still feel okay about it.

"Whatever did the --"

"Shut up," she suggested softly, pushing her nipple in my mouth again. I closed my eyes and savored as she mewed soft encouragements at me.

"The girl wondered and studied and prayed to Jesus," she whispered as I pushed the nubbin against my teeth with my tongue, coos of happiness pushing me on. "Eventually she decided that maybe if she gave in just a bit... If she held on tight to the most important things God wanted for her," she pushed her tit hard against my face, "she could have her eternal reward, and still be the girl all the sexy old men wanted her to be."

She leaned back and grabbed my hands, slapping them against her tits where my fingers squeezed and kneaded; then she yanked my arms above my head, pressed those big knockers against my chest and stuck her tongue in my ear. "The girl decided she was gonna learn to suck cock. Like, a lot of cock. All the cock," she moaned softly. Her cunt was right on my goddamn dick through my jeans and it was scorching. "She decided she was gonna get really good at it. If all those girls really called her a slut, well, their boyfriends might call her that too... but they would be calling her a lot."

My hands had asscheeks in them and I squeezed and squeezed as she ground against me, her breath hot and wet in my ear. "Please Mister," suddenly, more hesitantly. "Can I have some more of that stuff?" She jerked her head toward the table, in the general direction of Peru.

Music to my fuckin' ears. I nodded happily and she spun around on me to grab the bottle and dump out a small pile. Major fucking faux pas, as I don't let anybody fucking touch that bottle but me, but she's new (and a goddamn sex goddess), so I let it go. She grabbed at her straw and like a seasoned pro sniffed up the lines she'd made with two quick runs of the straw. Then she was twisting again to straddle me, pressing the bottle in my hand and leaning back, her upper arms pushing those globes up and out for me to have my fun. Once I rail off her big fleshy tit I press a bump into each nip, and she wriggles appreciatively before shoving me back against the sofa. Then she resumed her earlier spot, her sexy lips wet on my earlobe as she continued her story.

"The girl who wanted to lick dick started reading nasty sites on the internet, yes they amazingly did have the interwebs in Bumfuck Egypt, Baynaskbra..." She lay against me, her head on my shoulder, lazily tracing my chest. "She read a lot of sexy stories, started learning how sluts really act when they wanna turn on nasty old perverts." She pinched my nipple through my shirt lightly, then pulled my ear to her again. "And then the girl started meeting up with a few guys to try it out." She grinned from ear to ear, as I saw her remembering the first ones lucky enough to experience that sexy mouth.

"Let's see if I can remember some of the names... My cousin Jerry..."

"The girl from Baynaskbra had a cousin Jerry too?"

Giggles in my ear then hot tongue again. "Barry... Harry... Larry... The girl with the tits and ass sucked them all," she whispered fiercely. "She learned what each one liked so that when they came back, begging for her mouth again, she could make them cum even faster. She kind of liked the taste of cum," she whispered shyly. Her voice was speeding up now and she was grinding against me harder. "She liked it when they called her names. She made deals, to get some of the rumors to stop... Yeah squeeze my ass, Mister," she moaned. "I wasn't sure I liked your naughty idea, making me talk all dirty to you, nasty pervert," she was licking and biting at my ear now. "But I'm having fun."

"I'm glad," and I gave her ass an appreciative playful slap as my hips started to move a bit, my cock aching to get at the cunt so near and yet locked away. She groaned but continued her tale.

"She would let them touch her some too," she said, her voice growing high and lilting. "She liked their rough hands on her big tits. Sometimes for very special ones she'd let them mark her, just a bit. What do they call it, a hickey?"

I tittered, thinking, yeah she was in high school not long ago, it's true. "A hickey," I agreed.

"A hickey," she moaned. "It's so stupid, so fucking high school," she rambled on as I smiled involuntarily. "And yet it felt... sexy, letting a high school senior... or better yet, a man," she shivered and closed her eyes, pinching a fingerful of her giant left fleshmound between thumb and index, and pressing hard. It was weird how devastatingly erotic it looked as she continued. "Put a tiny... Or not so tiny... Bruise, on her tits... To shall we say, mark his territory, give a touch of pain to think back on with the pleasure."

And she leaned back and dropped her right weighty gazoomba on my face, before grasping my head in her hand and pressing me hard against her. Praising the gods again I sucked hard at the bit of flesh in reach of my mouth, my teeth biting a bit not to rip and tear but mark, bruise, brand, identify. I felt her hand slip to her pussy; I imagined two fingers jammed deep in her wet hole, I think she even realized it, her palm roughly pushing against her clit as I sucked a bruise onto her boob. Then she pushed me away, lifting up her breast to admire my handiwork. She looked at me in (mock?) annoyance. "Did I say you could do that?" Then she put her hand over my mouth and I inhaled the sweet, sweet stench of snatch.

I did have a fear for a sec, because what I'd done -- mark a dancer -- was certainly way over the line for acceptable schmoe behavior in Club Naw-Tee. I'm no schmoe, but still, I like to think I have at least some class; this wasn't classy, this was trashy. And Rico, despite all appearances to the contrary, had specific ideas about what constituted trashy, and what he was willing to tolerate at this awful excuse for a boob merchant. Even from me. I glance over and Meat was staring at me, a step closer now, like he's trying to make a decision. Don't hurt yourself, pal.

But she's laughing and hugging me tight -- nice -- realizing I really was afraid for a moment. The hug melted into more though, as she pushed me to lie horizontally on the sofa. Straddling me with one rainbow-clad foot on the ground and one bare one next to my leg, she giggled and asked if I could see the others that were fading away. I looked closer in the awful light of this shithole (you can't complain about ugly if you can't clearly see ugly, I guess was Rico's reasoning) and could indeed see a couple fading bruises hidden in the crevices of the teenager's Marianas Trench cleavage. It turned me on, beyond words.

"Soon the guys started to realize they could see other men's marks on the suckslut's big ol' boobies," my vision continued, her voice a low oil being dripped onto that spectacular chest she hefted and kneaded again. "And, unbeknownst to our hero, the biggest mouth-whore of Baynaskbra, some of them compared notes." She continued to paw and mash at her bulky bust, obviously not so much for my pleasure anymore, but because she sincerely loved having her rack mangled, even by her own self. Lizard Brain was on and on about naturally, innocently sexy. Not so innocent, she's a fucking cocksucking queen, Forebrain yelled happily. I let them argue and contributed nothing. I was unable.

Then she dropped her big tits and looked back at me: "Hey, question?" her tone changed back to the negotiating style we'd been using. "Is there a song you always wanted a dance to, haven't gotten? Probably not, I know, but I just thought I'd ask. I wanna be the best for you," she said again shyly. I could tell this retreat to the hey-I'm-just-a-new-girl-here was an act. Still, it was totally endearing and turned me on.

"Hmm," I thought. "Well, there's Albino Sunburned Girl, but I don't think singing about flaky croissants, duckies and yearning guava would do it for you. There's Awesome Sound, and really either the studio, such as it was ha ha, or the live version works, that'd be cool... If You Could Save Yourself You'd Save Us All is kinda sad, Fluffy's a tad slow..."

She blinked at me in confusion, then stabbed an accusing finger at the boognish on my tee, the sudden movement making a nice ripple in her topmeat. "This is that Ween shit, isn't it," she declared. "Fuckin' Todd said somebody might start mentioning weird song titles, about weasels and ponies and-or stallions, or something." I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah well, Fuckin' Todd says they're too strange. Said that if anybody asked for Ween they'd regret it."

Now as far as I knew, I was the only guy with real musical taste in the whole goddamn building, including the trashy clothing outlet. And Fuckin' Todd had balked before at my love for Dean and Gene and the boys. So, as much as hearing my nickname for the squeeb come out of this sexy teen's mouth set my heart aflame, I was progressing beyond annoyed, into mad.

"Fuckin' Todd said that? What the fuck is it with people having fear of Fuckin' Todd? It's Fuckin' Todd!" Meat, resigned to sneaking gawks at Jennifer while intermittently muttering into his walkie, glanced over with furrowed brow, like I gave a shit.

"Well, uhm," realizing she'd fucked up. "He's, uh, got a gun now, I guess?"

"Are you fucking serious?!" I shouted. "A fucking gun?!?" Meat was fully turned to me now, debating whether to approach, as dancers whispered to each other in the shadows. Fuckin' Todd had almost definitely heard me, because though I'd spotted his scrawny ass in his booth minutes ago, now he'd vanished. I had to deal with this, immediately.

"Hey, hey, shhhh," the beauty next to me said, and then she was kissing me. It was soft, slow, sensual and perfectly distracting. Her lips are wet and soft against mine and she made small sucking kisses to my lips, cheeks and face. The dust-sense of touch was taking over, that feeling of electricity when another coked-up body of the opposite sex is adjacent. Lizard Brain made a note and put a pin in dealing with the gun-toting jackass, while I relaxed into her kisses, pacified.

"Let's, uh, have some more, yeah?" She nodded at me eagerly. She says the sweetest things, doesn't she? Her long arm reached for the bottle, but I clucked my tongue at her, and she withdrew. Holding her to me I shifted to grab it myself, then positioned those bounteous bongos inches from my face. My dream of having this lovely chest as a sniff platform was deliciously realized once more, and she took a quick bump off the back of my hand. Then when I didn't instantly provide, shook me slightly and pointed at the other nostril. Good, she's learning, I thought admiringly, tapping a bit more out. Hooork, pinch, smile. She murmured a thank you before gently slipping her tongue in my mouth. It was slick and softly insistent and really, really nice. Then after a second, she sat back up, wiggling with the buzz. "Song. A classic. C'mon, challenge me."

"Alright you tease, a challenge, hmmm." Then it hit me, and it was so obvious. "I guess my real main choice that I've never had is... Night Prowler. AC/DC."

Her eyes flashed. "Bon Scott," she nodded approvingly. "Momma's favorite." Again I had a mental flash of what this gorgeous teenager, with her repressed yet incredibly alluring MILF of a mommy standing next to her, must look like; my dick grew two sizes that day, and Jennifer didn't even notice. "Drunken hero, fuck yeah." Remember what I said about being impressed by someone's musical tastes? Yeah. That. "Interesting choice though... Isn't it about, uh, murder?"

"It is, yup, but the rhythm is slow and insistent, sexy as fuck, and besides... murder can be sexual." I groped whatever flesh my hand rested on; she shivered, but a faint smile was on her lips. "It's a tad long, though," I said with regret, "something like six, seven minutes. Your coworkers won't like it."