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We knew rain was coming so we worked through the lunch hour but it didn’t do us much good. It started sprinkling about 12:30 and by 1:00 it was coming down in earnest, a driving, pouring rain, soaking everything and everyone.
The house we were buiding was under roof and the walls were studded in. The west and south sides of the building were covered in particle board, so we grabbed our gut buckets, sat down with our backs to the wall and ate our lunches while we listened to the rain. Shortly, the wind picked up and the water began to blow in under the roof. Our dry space was becoming smaller and smaller.
Don, the foreman, went out to his truck and turned on the radio to find a station that could give him an accurate local weather forecast. He sat there, listening, smoking a cigarette, and sipping black coffee out of his thermos. Eventually, he came trudging through the rain back over to where we were sitting.
“Let’s pack it in, boys. They’re saying this is going to keep up until near midnight. We’ll start again in the morning. Gonna be muddy. Bring your wet boots.” He flipped his cigarette into the rain and started gathering his tools. We were glad to get the afternoon off but we felt bad for Don. He was good people, strict and hard-working, and he expected us to be hard working, too. But he was fair and understanding. He never made Bobby, who was terrified of heights, work on the roof. He always let Ray Ray come in a half hour late because he knew Ray had a baby boy and he was doing the right thing by his girlfriend. Don got paid by the house and we got paid when he did so this half day off was going to make his payday, and ours, a day later.
Three of us were college students (it was the summer between my junior and senior year) and the money we earned was mostly walking around money for drinking, partying, and entertaining young ladies. Ray Ray was trying to learn a trade as a carpenter and using his money to support his girlfriend and his son. Don was trying to put food on his family’s table and pay the mortgage.
As Don drove away we could almost see the disappointment in the slump and bump of his old truck and we all agreed that, if we needed to, we’d all work on Saturday and even Sunday, if that was what it took to get the house finished on time.
But that was three days from now, and now, we had an unplanned Wednesday afternoon off.
“So, whata we gonna do?” Greg said. He was about my age, played basketball for the local junior college but had no real interest in education. His only passions were basketball, beer, and pussy. And, to hear him talk, he was good at all three of them.
“I’m gonna go home and play with my baby boy,” Ray Ray said. “Maybe save me a few dollars on the babysitter costs.”
Bobby was short and looked like he was about 16 years old even though he was closer to my age. He had a redhead buzzcut and his t-shirts all had small holes in them. And he always grinned. No matter what was going on, Bobby grinned. I think it kinda got on Don’s nerves but he never said anything. Now Bobby’s grin was bigger than ever. “Let’s go to The Office,” he said.
The Office was a roadhouse, strip joint, out in the country about three or four miles from where we were working. It was nothing like in the movies. It was small and dark and it had a bar and a juke box and a stage with two metal polls. It opened at 1pm and word had it that the girls were not bad looking if you go for the hard living, country girl, look. (When you’re 22 years old you go for just about any look as long as they are naked.) Word also had it that if you approached the right girl with the right words and the right amount of cash you might be able to get more than a lap dance.
I had never been to a strip joint so I filled my voice with bluster and said I was up for it. Greg agreed. Bobby said, “Hot damn!”
We all needed to go home, clean up and change clothes, and grab some cash. We didn’t want to smell like sweat and sawdust, especially if we were going to buy a lap dance or two. So, we agreed to meet at The Office at 3:00. We ran to our cars, slipped and skidded in the mud getting back to the road and we were outa there.
I ditched my dirty jeans and t-shirt, showered, doused myself with a modest spritz of body spray and dressed in chinos, a golf shirt, and brown oxfords without sox. I hit the bank and cashed a check – this was before ATM machines – stopped at a convenience store and bought a pack of smokes and a Bic lighter, and pulled into the gravel parking lot of The Office at 2:55 exactly. I was already getting hard just thinking about the delights that awaited me within. Inexperience had my imagination running on overdrive. Spoiler alert: I would not be disappointed.
I sat there for twenty minutes watching the rain pock the puddles in the parking lot and waiting for Bobby and Greg. At 3:15 I was too excited and horny to wait any more and decided to wait for them inside.
I entered The Office trying to act like I’d been to strip clubs a canlı bahis thousand times. Cool, you know. But the darkness and the volume of the music took me by surprise as did the big biker type who was sitting on a stool by the door. “Ten dollar cover,” he said. “And I’ll need to see your ID.” His arms were covered with tattoos and his name badge had an Office logo and “Terry” printed on it.
I opened my wallet and handed him the cover charge and my driver’s license which he pretended to glance at in near total darkness, and handed back to me. “Sit wherever you want,” he said. Then he leaned closer to me. “Best seats are on the opposite side of the stage, facing this door.”
Who was I to question a guy who made his living and practically lived in a titty bar? The stage ran the length of the room, about 30 feet, with two metal poles, one at each end and some Christmas lights and colored flood lights here and there up and down the length. It was surrounded by padded chairs, some mended with duct tape. There were some small, round tables with chairs, scattered around and a bar with about a dozen or so stools along the wall to the right across from the stage. On the other side of the stage were seats, a juke box, restrooms, and a door with a curtain drawn across it. There were no customers besides me. Four dancers in bikinis and high heels were sitting around one of the tables, smoking and drinking what looked like cocktails. They looked up at me as I fumbled my way through the darkness and went back to their conversation,
I sat as directed by the bouncer, on the opposite side of the stage, a few seats down from the juke box, the door with the curtain to my back. I could see the entrance from there and would be able to wave to Bobby and Greg when they came in.
It was odd being the only customer in the place. Kind of interesting, too. It was like being in a whole dark, different world that no one else knew about. My own little, erotic universe, made just for me.
After a few minutes one of the dancers stood up, walked around the stage and sat down next to me, putting her hand on my thigh. She was tall, maybe 5’8″ or so, with her brown hair pulled back in a pony tail. Maybe a year or so older than me, she wore just a hint of makeup and she smelled like cherries. She was attractive in a hard, tough kind of way that I found oddly exciting. Her ass was small and tight and her breasts had just enough droop to tell me they were probably real and were barley contained by the bikini top.
She leaned over and breathed into my ear, “You want me to dance, or do you wanna just go on back to the back room and play?”
I could barely breath, much less speak. “Uh, I’m expecting my buddies to be here in a few minutes so why don’t you just dance for me and we’ll see how things go from there,” I said.
She shrugged and her left nipple popped out of her bikini top. She pushed it back in. “Can I have a dollar for the juke?”
What the hell; I gave her the dollar.
She pushed some buttons and Meatloaf’s tenor voice filled the house. As she brushed past me on her way to the steps that led up onto the stage, she let her hand drag across my chest and reached down into my shirt neck and gently pinched my nipple. She leaned over and said into my ear. “My name’s Andi. Just call my name if you need anything.” She pinched my nipple again. “Anything.” She smiled and my dick turned to concrete as she climbed the steps up onto the stage.
She danced three songs. One in her bikini. One topless, and one totally nude. I would later learn that this was pretty standard for strip clubs in our state, but for this, my first time, I could not have been happier. I gladly tipped each girl, all of which were versions of Andi, some a little shorter, some a little rounder, but all attractive in that tough, hard way. After their third dance, they would come naked down the steps just down from where I was sitting, ask me if I’d like to tip them and, when I said yes and produced a dollar bill, they would turn around, spread their ass cheeks with their hands and I would place the dollar between their buns. When they felt it there, they would let go and walk away with the dollar bill stuck in their ass. It was kinda funny and hot at the same time. I paid for the juke songs, too.
When all four of the girls had danced it was Andi’s turn again and she asked me for a juke dollar, which I gladly gave her and she got on the stage as Meatloaf began to sing again but this time, she didn’t bother with the three-song order. She just stripped naked and lay down on the stage with her pussy staring me in the face.
She writhed and moaned and fingered herself as I watched in close-up fascination. She rubbed her clit which grew nearly half again it’s previous size. Then she rolled over on her stomach, head down, ass up, and pulled her ass cheeks apart with her hands and gave me a look at her butthole. Oh, my God, there was a shiny stainless-steel butt plug in there. I nearly fainted, but she wasn’t done with her bahis siteleri dance.
She reached back and pulled the butt plug about half way out and then slid it back in again. Then she repeated the action about twenty times going a little faster each time and moaning as she did so. Eventually, Meatloaf stopped singing his third song but Andi was still hard at it, pumping her asshole and moaning. Her face was flushed, she was sweating, her hair was coming loose from the pony tail. She slowly came back to the present and realized the music had stopped. The other girls were watching her. I was watching her. The only person who was not watching her was Terry, the bouncer, who I figured must have been gay if he could ignore the show I just saw.
Andi slowly rolled over, got up, gathered her bikini and held out her hand for me to hold as she descended the stairs. She disappeared into the women’s restroom and came out a few minutes later, her face damp and her hair freshly brushed and her ponytail re-established.
The next dancer, Angi, was already on stage after getting juke money from me, dancing to “Little Surfer, Surfer Girl” by the Beach Boys. She was about six inches shorter than Andi, a few years younger, and just as good looking, but she had black hair cut boy-short. She also wore black framed glasses which I found sexy as hell for reasons I couldn’t say. Maybe it was because she looked like a librarian sex fiend. I don’t know.
Andi came over to me, sat down next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. She reached over and felt my still hard dick through my chinos. “I think you like what you saw,” she said.
“Oh, hell yes,” I said. “It was amazing.”
She just sat like that, her head on my shoulder, her hand kneading my member which was getting even harder, which I would not have thought was possible.
“Do you like her?” She asked, nodding to the dancer who had now removed her top. Her breasts were smaller than Andi’s, like the halves of a coconut shell. Sexy as all hell.
Andi leaned close to my ear. “She’s my little sister.”
I nodded. “Andi and Angi,” I said. “Of course.” I took a sip of my miniscule, $6 soda.
“You wanna fuck us?”
I nearly did a spit take but managed to control myself and swallow the drink. “What?”
She smiled a really cute, mischievous smile, looked up at her sister. “You heard me. Do you want to fuck us? The two of us. We can go into the back room.”
I looked up at Angi. She smiled and nodded her head.
Andi spoke close to my ear. “A hundred bucks. Take all the time you want. Put it anywhere you want. Might as well. The boss isn’t here, today, and it looks like your friends aren’t coming. No reason you shouldn’t.” She laughed softly at her own joke.
The third song, “Blackbird” by the Beatles, started and Angi stripped down to her birthday suit. She looked straight at me, walked to the edge of the stage and motioned for me to stand up. I obeyed and she put her pussy about one millimeter from my nose and began to writhe around, rubbing it up and down and back and forth on my face. Andi’s hand began to rub more insistently on my cock.
Suddenly, the song ended. Angi turned and walked away, gathering her bikini. As she bent over, she pointed her little ass toward me and gave me a coquettish grin. Andi whispered in my ear. “Well?” she asked.
It took me a total of one split second to respond. “Let’s go.”
Andi dropped my dick, took my hand and led me through the curtain with Angi close behind, clutching her bikini to her chest.
The back room had better lighting than the main room. Blue and green colored bulbs provided soft, illumination but I could see well. There was a leather couch and two huge overstuffed chairs. End tables at either end of the couch and beside each of the chairs held small lamps with soft, white bulbs in them.
Andi led me to the couch and pushed me down. She took off her bikini and climbed aboard straddling my lap. The music out in the main room was funneled into this room and she began to squirm around on me, grinding on my joint and rubbing those great tits in my face. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked on it, swirling my tongue around as I did and she moaned a long, sexy moan.
I looked over Andi’s shoulder and could see Angi sitting naked in one of the big, overstuffed chairs, , rubbing her clitoris and moving two fingers in and out of her quim with the other hand.
Angi felt my dick getting harder and bigger. “Let’s let this lion out of his cage,” she said. She unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants and I moved around so she could pull them down to my knees. She grabbed my cock and began massaging it up and down. “That’s more like it,” she said.
My dick is nothing to brag about, size wise, but she didn’t seem disappointed, so I relaxed and went with the flow. Angi slid down between my legs and took Mr. Majestic in her mouth, using her tongue in some magical way to torture me. After a couple bahis şirketleri of minutes, I told her I was about to cum and she stopped and climbed back on my lap, holding my cock between her legs. She leaned forward and pressed her boobs against my chest and talked into my ear loud enough for Angi to hear but no louder.
“You see that little slut over there finger fucking herself?” she asked.
See her? How could I not see her? I said that I did.
“I want you to fuck her tight little pussy until you cum like a volcano. Then I want you to fuck my ass. You think you can do that?”
All I could do was nod. I realized my mouth was hanging open and I closed it.
Andi pulled herself off of my lap and turned to Angi who opened the drawer on the end table beside her chair and extracted a condom. She walked slowly across the room to me, kneeled before me, slid my rock hard penis into her mouth for a quick couple of pumps and then took it out and slid the rubber over it. She climbed slowly up onto my lap and slid down on me, moaning as she did. Andi moaned, too as she leaned over, grabbed Angi’s breast, pinched her nipple and tongue kissed her. Then she turned and tongue kissed me for what seemed like forever, while Angi slid slowly up and down my cock.
It took a very short time for me to reach the peak. Remember, I had been hard for nearly an hour by that time and when Angi realized the moment was nearly there, she leaned in and kissed me as hard as I’ve ever been kissed, working her head around and sliding her tongue in and out and all over my teeth, gums and tongue.
That was all I could take. I came like Vesuvius. I moaned, I screamed, I bucked, I might have even cried. I’m not sure. All I can really remember is ecstasy. Wave after wave of ecstasy. When I finally came back to earth and caught my breath, I realized that I was naked, my clothes hanging neatly from a hall tree in the corner, and the girls were sitting on either side of me on the couch, their hands on my thighs.
Angi pulled the rubber off of my dick and reached into yet another end table drawer for one of those travel packs of baby wipes which she used to wipe up what had felt like about a gallon of my jiz but turned out to just be the normal couple of tablespoons full. (Remember, I was a young man back then.)
I noticed there was a television up in the corner of the room with the sound turned off, showing a porn movie, and we watched it and talked and laughed for a little while. Andi picked up a remote from somewhere and began flipping through channels, about ten of them, each one with a different kind of porn, asking me about my favorite (it’s the amateur and faux amateur kind). We watched and talked about porn for a while and I realized that Andi was gripping my dick and Angi was cupping my balls, massaging them and my breath was coming a little shorter.
Mr. Majestic had returned.
“You promised to fuck my ass, remember,” Andi said. “You still up for it?”
I pointed to my dick now at full attention and said, “I guess I am.” In truth, I had never been to Greece before and just the thought of fucking that hard, little ass of hers nearly made me cum.
Angi flitted over to the end table where the condoms were kept and came back with another and, a huge, industrial size tube of lube. Andi leaned in and started tonguing my ear while Angi slide the raincoat over Mr. Majestic. She squirted a glob of lube out of the tube and lovingly coated my dick with it while Andi assumed the face down, ass up position on the couch with her butt facing me. Angi moved over to her sister and pulled the butt plug gently from her ass and then began slathering lube on her butthole, working first one finger and then two in and out.
She turned to me and said, “You do it. Feel how tight her asshole is.”
Not one to turn down an invitation, I obliged and slid my fingers, first one and then two, into Andi’s ass. She moaned as I did and pressed back against my hand.
“Looks like she’s ready,” Angi said. “You ready, hon?” she asked.
“Yes, God yes,” Andi said. “Fuck my ass, right now.” She swiveled around so she was sitting on the very edge of the couch, lying back with her head against the bottom half of the back. She lifted her legs and presented her pussy and ass to me as I got down on the floor on my knees between her legs.
That pussy looked so beautiful that I just had to have a taste and I gave it a couple of licks but Andi wasn’t having any of it. “Forget that. You can do that later. Fuck my ass.”
Ever obedient, I raised up so my cock was even with her exposed butt and slid my dick slowly into her asshole. She moaned again (She was a great moaner.) and said, softly, “Deeper. Deeper.” Until I was all the way in, her ass pressed against my groin.
After a minute or so to let her relax, I began to pump slowly in and out of her butt and she continued to groan and began to pump in rhythm with me. The rubber and the previous climax made it possible for me to go longer this time so we pumped back and forth changing the speed and rhythm every few strokes. After a little while she rolled over and just kneeled in front of the couch and lay over the seat, her ass presented to me, and I rejoined her.
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