Penthouse (12 page)

I silently held open a towel, and she got out of the tub. The towel was lost as we kissed for the first time. Slowly,
she pushed me back onto the counter. Kissing each breast, she took off my panties and spread my legs. Her fingers found my
hard clit as her mouth teased my breasts in turn. Harder and faster she rubbed. Her lips found mine as I came in her hand.

Her eyes begged for release as I slid off the counter and lowered her to the rug. My mouth couldn’t wait to taste that delicious
little heart. Teasing her, licking everywhere but the spot she wanted. Finally licking her clit, she came.

We still laugh about the best dance we never went to. Smiling, I’m drawn back into the present. I feel her eyes on my face.
Can she read my mind? I hope not.

Reaching into my purse, I throw a dollar into the basket and a handful of candy onto the table. Selecting one for myself,
I smile invitingly to the others at the table. Quick smiles of thanks are returned as some of the hands reach out to take
one.

I can still feel my best friend’s eyes upon me as I partially unwrap my candy-stick. I hold it by the unwrapped end and slowly
dip it into my coffee. Stirring, I look around my table.

A good mix of people. More males than females—as almost always. Median age somewhere around twenty-five to thirty—the norm.
Some fidgeting, some listening intently—also the norm.

The reading ends at my table and the sharing begins. I stop stirring my coffee and twirl the stick gently between my fingers.
The wrapper crinkles as I lift the candy-stick to my mouth.

Closing my eyes, I savor the hot, sticky candy as it passes over my lips and onto my waiting tongue. The taste of peppermint
is strong as my tongue tentatively probes
the invader. Recognizing the shape of the long hard rod, I welcome it into my mouth.

In and out. Slowly the candy-stick glides across my tongue. My tongue pushes the hard rod to my lips. My fingers lightly push
it back. In and out. My back arches as the full sensual in-and-out motion takes over my mind and body. My other hand gently
rests on my inner thigh.

Opening my eyes, I look toward my best friend. Her half-parted lips and violet eyes are clear indications of what she’s feeling.
I visualize her wet pussy as my hand slides higher up my thigh.
What are you doing here?
she mouths at me. I smile and shake my head. Later. You’ll understand later. I hope.

My tongue searches in vain as I release the rod from my warm lips and lower it once more into my coffee. Swirling it a few
times, I raise the candy-stick to my lips. My tongue runs up and down the shaft, licking the bitter coffee from wrapper to
tip. I slide it back into my waiting mouth. Again the in-and-out takes over.

I sense the eyes upon me. I meet their eyes with a challenge of my own. Looking over the room, I see him watching me. Finally
his gaze moves from my mouth and my candy to meet my eyes. I lick the rod slowly, starting once more at the wrapper and deliberately
flicking the tip lightly with my tongue.
Want some?
my body says to his.
You know I do
is his response.

A small shiver runs through me. A simple look from this man makes my palms sweaty and my nipples hard. My legs spread just
a little wider. My hand longs to run down his back and across his smooth ass.

In and out. The candy-rod becomes his cock as I picture him naked before me. Long and slow, my tongue teases his cock. Licking
the shaft and kissing the tip, I finally
take it into my mouth. In and out. Ever so slowly. My fingers find their way across his belly, stopping to play with his belly
button. He’s an “inny.” The fingers stop when they reach his hardened nipples. Gently my thumbs brush them before my fingers
glide across his skin, to his hips and thighs.

In and out. My mouth licks and sucks his warm cock. My hands work their way down his thighs, finally coming to rest under
his ass. My fingers can’t resist playing in the soft warm crack, especially with the hole they find there. Obligingly, he
rolls onto his side.

My mouth leaves his warm cock and my hand takes over. I lick and kiss his cock, his balls, every inch of his ass. I linger
on his anus, drawing from the fact that each lick and probe sends him closer to orgasm. His cock is wet in my hand as my mouth
makes its way up the shaft. In and out. I can feel his hand touching my hair, my shoulder, my hard nipple. He rolls it, pinches
it as he comes in my mouth.

He moves slightly in his chair as he adjusts his jeans. I notice the bulge in his crotch before raising my eyes to his. I
pull my gaze away and slowly lower the candy-stick to my coffee cup. It’s my turn to share. I lean forward—letting my breasts
rest lightly on the table. The males at the table, almost in unison, lean forward too, their primal instincts obviously hoping
for a better look.

“My name is… and it’s so stimulating to be here tonight. I’ve never come here before.” I pause to look at my hand stroking
my thigh and continue. “What this step means to me is powerlessness. My hands are tied.” I demonstrate by putting both hands
behind my back, arching my breasts even higher. And I am waiting! My hand moves of its own accord to my warm inner thigh.
“My
Higher Power comes to me in ways that are too numerous and exhilarating to explain. I can feel His power when He is within
me. He moves me to great heights and ecstasies. I am so glad I came tonight. Thanks for letting me share.”

With that short, breathless statement I go on stirring my coffee. I hear the amazement and disbelief in my best friend’s voice
when she murmurs, “Thanks for sharing.” Smiling brightly, I pop the candy-stick back in my mouth, ignoring the disgust on
the women’s faces and the lust on the men’s.

Everyone shares and we get up to close. Out in the hallway, we form a circle, arms around each other. Hugs are shared and
my best friend and I finally meet face to face. “What in the fuck are you doing?” she hisses in my ear, still smiling.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I whisper, also smiling.

“You got
that
right,” I hear, as we move back to our table.

Smiling, I put on my coat, gather my purse, and finish my coffee. His table is getting up as I pop the candy back into my
mouth. I feel his hand on my arm and his hard cock pressing against my leg. His hand finds its way up my arm, barely brushing
the already hard nipple. I smile sweetly as my teeth bite down on the candy and grind it. The passion and longing are evident
in his face as he is whisked away by his tablemates. I hear their closing prayer as I walk out the door.

Later that night, I’m lying in my bed. My fingers are playing with the clit they had longed to play with all night. As I gently
rub my wet swollen pussy, the lips part. My fingers reach in as far as they can go. My legs spread wider as my fingers leave
my wet pussy to play with my nipples. Wet with pussy juice, they arch in anticipation.

I’m hot and sticky with peppermint candy. I have discovered that candy-sticks might taste great, but make lousy dildos. The
rod itself is much too thin to ever replace the cock I want, so it’s time for my fingers to take over.

The phone rings. Smiling, I let my fingers caress my clit, my breasts, my thighs. I visualize his face above mine. His eyes,
green like mine, search my face even as he kisses me.

Encircling my waist, his arm tightens as my body rises to meet his. His other hand leaves my breast and slides between us
to rub my hard slit. My hands slide across his ass to his warm, furry cock. A slight pressure on his anus pushes his cock
deeper inside me. His hand leaves my pussy, seeking and locating one of mine. He impressions my hand with his, my lips with
his, and comes deep inside me.

Knowing this is him, this is the cock I want, my body responds with each ring. My fingers tease my clit, rubbing harder as
I picture him on the other end of the line. The phone stops ringing and I come, wave after delicious wave pouring through
me,

Still smiling, my sticky, satisfied body falls fast asleep.

BY
S
CARLETT
F
EVER

B
i-Curious. That’s what the ad had said. Bi-Curious Asian female, five foot five, twenty-four years old. Visions of Suzie Wong—long
shiny blue-black hair and tight satin China-girl dresses—danced in my head. I’d been fantasizing about women for a while,
occasionally skimming the columns of personal ads. Women Seeking Women. Whatever’s Clever. Adventure Team. The titles made
me nervous, but Bi-Curious had a sweet and sexy ring to it. It meant that she would be the same as me—twenty-four, curious,
and a little scared.

Interested, but not experienced. I left a message on her voice mail, using my best come-hither voice, hoping I didn’t sound
silly, and went off to work.

Work is a club called the Wild Pussycat. I’m an exotic dancer. You’re thinking I’d have access to all the tits and ass I could
handle there, that I wouldn’t have to check the ads out, but I didn’t want anyone to know. Not till I knew for sure. There
are a lot of girls there that go both ways, and a couple that only go with women, so I knew no one
would think anything of it. It’s just me, I guess. Even though I spend my nights stripping and strolling for strangers, I
like to keep some part of me private. A girl’s gotta have some mystery about her, and this stuff was all still a mystery to
me. I love being with men—I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t—but I had to know what was going on with the sisters.

Something shifted inside me after I made that call. It was apparent once I started dancing that something had changed. Usually,
I just sway to the beat, do my routines, make some tips, flirt a little—but that night was different. After leaving the message
for my Oriental princess, my mind started working overtime. I had visions, visitations, and all kinds of excitations. Every
roll of my hips got me hotter. The fabric of my G-string rubbed against my swelling clit. I couldn’t keep my hands off myself.

My nipples were hard, my skin tight and tingly. Everyone could see how wet I was getting whenever I spread my legs. Just thinking
about what could happen between us was threatening to get me off. I didn’t want to climax onstage, with everybody looking.
Luckily, the music for my set came to an end just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore. If I couldn’t be alone and finish
myself off, I thought I’d explode. I left the stage and went directly to the dressing rooms in the back. I knew they’d be
empty by now; almost all the girls were either grinding onstage or grinding on a customer. I closed the door behind me, threw
myself down on the velvet couch in front of the mirror, and tried to catch my breath. It was shallow and rapid. I was panting
like an animal. There were small beads of sweat around my hairline.

Stray blond hairs were matted to my flushed face. I stared into the brown velvet of my eyes and wondered if
this is what my cat felt like when she was in heat—desperate for release.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Damn, I forgot to lock the door behind me. I looked up to see where the silky voice was
coming from. It was Cherry—Wild Cherry, she called herself. The lanky twenty-seven-year-old redhaired Texan dropped down next
to me on the couch. She’d just started working there a couple of weeks ago. We’d gone for breakfast after work once or twice
when she was mad at her boyfriend, but we weren’t really close. The lights around the mirror twinkled off the silver sequins
of her costume.

“You’ve never danced like that before. You looked great, darlin’. Looked just like you were… well, hell’s bells, Starr, you’re
still lookin’ all worked up.” Her drawl killed me. She moved closer, wiping the beads of sweat from my forehead with a soft
white towel. Her face was just inches from mine. Her skin was flawless, even this close. The sequins on her bra brushed painfully
across my swollen nipples. I didn’t mind, but it made my frustration worse. I tried not to look into those big emerald eyes,
tried to ignore that waterfall of soft red ringlets cascading past her shoulders, just brushing the tops of her tits.

I tried not to inhale her smell—it was somewhere between musk and cinnamon, and it was making me dizzy. Her bottom lip was
the kind I think of whenever I hear someone talk about pouty lips, the kind you want to bite. I wanted to bite it. I wanted
to taste her, to smell her, to touch her. No, I thought. No. Not at work. I looked away from her, into the only other place
to look, the mirror. It didn’t help. She kept toweling me off, and I watched.

“Tell mama what the matter is, sugar,” she murmured. She pressed the soft towel slowly against the back of my
neck, dipping it in cool water, pressing it against my back, down my spine, massaging my neck with her other hand. I began
to suspect I was no longer in control.

“I’m… Cherry, I just… kinda… lost control out there, I guess. I don’t usually get excited onstage. I guess my mind was elsewhere
tonight.” I wanted her to go. I wanted her to stay. I didn’t think I could wait any longer. I needed to touch myself, I needed
someone to touch me. Cherry didn’t seem to be going anywhere. I decided to tell her the truth—honesty being the best policy
and all that. I don’t know what ever made me think that.

“Look, Cherry, I made this call tonight. I answered this personal ad.” She just stared at me in the mirror, listening and
rubbing my neck. She was behind me now, spoon fashion. I watched her hands on my shoulders and felt the heat of her long,
muscular thighs next to mine. I was going to have to spell it out.

“It wasn’t a guy’s ad. It was a chick. I’ve never done that before. Been with a girl, I mean, or answered an ad, for that
matter. I was curious. I guess the anticipation was more than I expected it to be.” She nodded and kept rubbing my shoulders.
I was still horny as hell, but a lot less freaked out about it.

“So, you haven’t met this little honey yet?” she purred into my ear. I shook my head no and watched in the mirror as she slowly
lowered her head and kissed me on the neck. Her hands had never stopped, and now they were moving down my back, where I couldn’t
see them anymore, but I could feel them.