Erotic City (13 page)
“The wife of rapper Big Mack, aka Mac McCoy, has filed a petition for divorce stating irreconcilable differences. Since the couple did not have a prenuptial agreement, she’s asking for half of his assets from their eight-year marriage.
“McCoy was accused of assault in the case that involves the sex club called Erotic City. The club was charged with negligence. There has been a lot of controversy surrounding sex clubs, particularly in light of these charges. We have a show scheduled for April twenty-fifth to discuss sex clubs when our host Diva Sexton addresses the topic, and our special guest will be Milan Kennedy, who is the owner of Erotic City and the daughter of the deceased musician Charlie Kennedy. The defense attorney for the club has already appeared on behalf of the client, and both sides agreed with the judge’s decision to set an evidentiary hearing date of May sixteenth while the charges are investigated further. The club’s owner is expected to plead not guilty. No information yet as far as the date of the criminal charges against Mac McCoy. We’ll have more information as it becomes available.”
“Oh my goodness,” Tamiko said out loud. “This mess is not blowing over easily.”
“Cream”
Thursday, April 17, 2008
11:30 p.m.
T
he theme was Erotic City’s second annual Red Hot Party. Red balloons kissed the ceilings while curly red ribbons streamed beneath each one. There were buffet tables draped in red with finger food galore. The bartenders served virgin punch with cherries. The sexy hostess girls strolled around passing out chocolate hearts wrapped in red foil paper. They greeted the members with red lipstick kisses. Folks were fired up and ready to get loose.
“
I’ll make ya weak at the knees. Make ya feel all right.
”
Under the shy lights and erotic ambience of the main purple room, the crowd stared with lusty eyes as though being hypnotized through some tantric ritual.
Some bobbed their heads to the old school beat by Steve Arrington. But all were deep into eyeing the two, dark-skinned young women who only wore generous swirls of whipped cream, freshly squeezed from the can by a tall mistress with short, spiked hair. She wore a red baby doll, thigh-high stockings, and five-inch heels. She’d drawn creamy, delectable body bikinis for all to devour.
One of the women lay upon the table on her back with whipped cream covering her breasts and encircling the shape of her Mohawk vaginal hair. A heart-shaped squirt surrounded her pierced belly button. The other woman lay on her tummy with drawings of cream along her firm cheeks. The tight skin of her muscular thigh had a red-and-black tattoo of Betty Boop.
“Come on and get a taste. You know you want to,” said the mistress of seximonies, holding a microphone and strutting like she was the madam of all naughty delights. Brian, one of the guards, stood nearby and kept an eye on things.
A young black man with cornrows bent over to scoop up a mouthful of tittie, ending with a suckle of the young woman’s hard nipple. He licked her brown areola and kissed her saluting tip.
She lowered her eyes and moaned while another man came to assist with the other coated nipple.
An older white man began pressing his lips to her goodie trail. She spread her legs open a bit to assist. He came around to the end of the table to get a head-on view, teasing her hairy lips until he hit her point of entry, and inserted his tongue. Her eyes were coated with lust. She swallowed hard and her moans grew louder. She found herself with three men while she lay back enjoying being the VIP, very important pussy dessert for the evening.
She flexed her toes and throbbed her own sex cream onto the white man’s face. He stayed on it like he was savoring the experience of the nappy dugout. He backed away, licking his lips. The young woman placed her own middle finger into her vagina and pulled it out, while an older, slender, naked Hispanic woman gently took her hand and sucked all of her juices from her finger. She also licked the young woman’s belly button clean. The Hispanic woman’s tongue was long enough to touch her own chin. The receiving woman’s eyes bugged. She gave a welcoming smile as she squirmed counterclockwise.
Her friend, who lay next to her, looked back toward her own booty as a woman flicked her tongue along the shape of her protruding buttocks. The giver managed to work her face in between the young woman’s cheeks, sliding her elongated tongue down to the point of her meaty split. The receiver groaned just as another woman kissed the small of her toned back, tracing her tongue all the way upward to her neck. The receiving woman turned to the side to look at her and within two seconds their mouths meshed together and their tongues met. They kissed for moments on end, as though only the two of them existed. It was a soft, girly moment of estrogen only.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Make it nasty. Make it nice. Make it wet. Make it erotic. This is Erotic City after all. If you can’t get your freak on in here, where can you go?” the hostess asked with a healthy laugh.
Milan walked by wearing a long red sheer skirt that showed off her red boy shorts underneath. She had on a red silk bra and a leather collar around her neck. Her hair was wild and curly. She even had on red glittery eye shadow and fake eyelashes. She gave an approving nod to the mistress when she saw the crowd. Lavender was two steps behind her. Normally, Milan was a distraction when she’d mingle about, but at the moment very few heads even noticed her.
Milan said, “Those women have nice bodies. No wonder that crowd is staying put.”
“Yes, they do.” Lavender admired the young woman’s breasts as he and Milan headed on to the next room. But not before he looked over at his coworker and buddy, Brian, and raised his impressed eyebrows. Brian raised his back.
“
I’ll be your freakazoid, c’mon and wind me up.
”
A few seconds later, halfway through the song “Freakazoid
,
” Brian picked up one of the ladies and carried her to the nearby open shower, where she stood along the pale green slate tiles. He went back over and picked up the other woman, carrying her to the shower next to her friend. The females high-fived each other while the forceful sprays of water cleaned them up. The crowd now moved to where the ladies stood, getting a free, double shower view. The two women began hugging and grinding each other. It was an exhibitionist’s feast.
Nearby, in the blue S&M room, the older Hispanic woman with the forever tongue now straddled a padded spanking bench, kind of like a riding post. It had a dark brown leather covering and wooden footrests. A blond man with a long beard walked up behind her and popped her ass with a black belt. The sound was deep and loud. She squeezed her eyes shut and jumped as though in pain, yet she poked her blushed ass back for more. And more he gave her indeed, this time with an extraexplosive dose of force. He whipped the hell out of her cherry-cola cheeks three more times.
“Oooh, ouch. Yes.” Her face was as blushed as her booty flesh. One side of her butt read “Woman” and the other read “Whore.”
Just as the two young women from the shower walked by with white body towels wrapped around them, one grabbed the hand of the woman who was getting spanked. The woman opened her Maybelline eyes and moved her curly hair to the side as the young woman spoke close to her ear. All three of them headed to a private room and closed the door.
The master who had given the spanking now had another willing slave. A middle-aged woman stepped up to the bench and straddled it like she owned it. She had a chubby body and thick waist. She wore a silver clamp that bit into her left nipple. Her belly button was hidden by a few rolls of fat and her stretch marks were noticeable even in the modest light, but she sat up proudly wearing her very own birthday suit. Her face was pretty. Her short hair was laid. And she was ready.
She placed her hands along the front of his pants zipper and moved her head downward to kiss him in the exact spot as if she knew his dick personally. But they were strangers.
He backed her away, placing his hands on her shoulders, and tapped her ass. Her mulatto cheek gave a short bouncy-bounce in reply. “You touch me when I say you touch me,” he yelled in domination.
“Yes, sir,” she replied with apologetic eyes that dropped to her feet. “I’ve been bad.”
He pulled his arm all the way back and met her nutmeg flesh with an abrupt, punishing pop.
She erupted in a loud scream and grabbed her wide, sagging titties, biting her lip and yelling, “More, more. Give it to me just like that again. Give it to me the way a good master should.” She played the submissive well.
This city of sin was alive and crackin.
Milan, now working the rooms all by herself, walked into the blue room and struck up a conversation with a middle-aged couple.
The man said, “I had no idea what to expect until we walked through the door.”
“I see. So what do you think?”
“It’s different.”
“Yes it is. Just do your first time looking around and see if you like it. If you do, I hope to see you back again. It would be a shame to waste that membership fee.”
The man looked unsure.
His conservatively dressed woman said, “Oh, I don’t know who he thinks he’s kidding. Trust me. We’ll be back.”
Just as the woman said that, and she and her husband shared a laugh with Milan, Milan glanced behind them, over at the spanking bench. To her surprise, the woman who was being dominated so completely looked very familiar.
Lavender walked up to Milan and stood next to her.
Milan told the couple as they started to walk away, “Thanks for coming.”
The woman said, “Nice meeting you.” They continued to take in their surroundings.
Milan’s eyes remained on the naked woman who was getting her ass beat. “Lavender, do you know who that lady is over there?”
Lavender looked. His mouth dropped. He picked it up. “Oh no. Is that Beverly from church?”
“In the flesh.”
Lavender inquired, “Damn, she didn’t even ask for you?”
Milan grinned, scratching the back of her neck with her long, red fingernails. “From the looks of it, I don’t think she cares about being friendly with either one of us tonight.”
“Damn, who was it that said never trust a woman in a church dress?”
Milan looked away and took a step. “Backsliders need love, too. Besides, we all have freak potential. Let’s go. I don’t know about you, but I ain’t seen nothing. Vegas rules.”
Lavender looked away and said, “Seen what? I ain’t seen nothin either. Beverly who?”
“Jack U Off”
Friday, April 18, 2008
4:52 a.m.
V
ery early in the morning, a soft, golden, artificial light filled the room.
The sound of ice cubes cracking under the pressure of warm cognac soaked the air. Tamiko prepared a drink at the leather wet bar in her bedroom. She turned to view Jarod, who’d just arrived from work. He sat on the end of her bed taking off his shoes.
“Do you want anything?” she asked as the natural rose oil gave off its sweet scent.
“No. You go right ahead. It’s too late for that.”
Tamiko swirled the dark liquid in a circle and stepped toward him. She took a sip. “How’d it go?” Her aqua teddy was skintight.
“Uneventful. But the club’s been packed every night recently.”
“So no more drama?”
“No.”
“Good.” She sat next to him. “Do you always think of Erotic City as uneventful?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just not sure how a sex club is ever uneventful.”
“It’s just routine.”
“So, you’re like immune to it or something?”
“Pretty much.”
“I can’t even imagine that.”
“I still can’t believe you’ve never been curious about what happens there.”
“Not in the least.”
“That’s somethin. How’d your mama and daddy raise such different daughters?” he asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Interesting.” He rubbed his eyelids and leaned back against two quilted pillows.
She turned back toward him. “You look tired.”
“Like I said, it was busy as hell.” He looked over at her as she took another sip, eyeing her wardrobe choice. “You know I’m not too tired though.”
“That’s why I woke up. I know you.”
He worked his way to a stance. “I’ll be right back. I need to take a piss and take off these clothes that smell like smoke and sex.”
“I’ll be right here.” Her third sip was the last of it. It was strong. But she put her glass down, lay back along the bed, and allowed its strength to take over her head.
It was the tail end of o-dark-thirty in the morning. Another ten minutes and the sun would begin to show. Jarod and Tamiko were deep into position number four. Tamiko’s grind downshifted into half the energy. She lay under him, being pumped by his lengthy dick like her pussy was created as a vessel for only his penetration. As he plunged into her, he grunted and groaned and began to sweat. She held her breath every time he went too deep. And suddenly, Jarod rolled off and stood next to the bed with his demanding dick pointing her way. He put his hands along his waist and stood with his feet far apart.
Tamiko stood in front of him, and knelt down at his feet. She took hold of his thickness while lowering her mouth over the head of his cock. She flattened her tongue and licked the top portion of his penis like it was a blow pop, and began her deep throat maneuvers, making sure to focus on his head. She gave double-handed strokes to his shaft while she sucked.
Jarod ground strongly, flexing his large, muscular ass. He moved one hand behind her head to make sure the precision of her movement was consistent and straight on, just for one good, long minute. She felt him swell and he grunted as loud as she’d ever heard him grunt
before. His fluid spilled. First a quick creamy shot, and then two long squirts. Her mouth was full of his warm sperm. She pulled away to swallow. As the final rem-nants of his load seeped, he looked down at her and patted her on the head.
“Good girl.”
Tamiko inched to a stance and wiped her mouth. Jarod held on to his dick while she headed to the kitchen. The new light of morning licked the other side of the maple kitchen blinds. She’d only had three hours’ sleep after waking up to be with Jarod.
