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Tales 12

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Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

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Challenge of Love

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Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

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Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club

 

 

1b – Taking Amanda

There is temptation, and there is need.  You look deeply at Amanda, examining her.  Lush breasts are contained in the tightly buttoned white shirt, straining to be released.  You can see the hard bumps of her nipples.  Oddly, she is beautiful enough to have been one of the performers, but perhaps she truly is innocent.  Perhaps she is holding out for a higher price.

She looks down at the menu you are holding and nods toward it.  “Is there anything there that interests you, sir?”  She asks politely.  Unlike the performers who douse themselves in the scents of flower and fruit, you detect the clean sharp smell of soap and vanilla.  You grin at her.

“Perhaps.  Are you on the menu?”

She looks startled, her eyes dropping down as she blushes.  “I’m just the waitress, sir.  I can go get one of the dancers for you if you’d like.”

You shake your head, putting down the leather bound menu.  “I don’t want one of them.  I’m interested in you.”

She shook her head.  “We’re not supposed too…”  Her voice cracks and trails off as you pull out a thick wad of money from your pocket.  The first bill you lay upon the table has a portrait of Benjamin Franklin.  It’s joined by a second, and then a third.  Her eyes widen as a fourth and a fifth join it.  You can see she’s close to breaking.

“What exactly do you want from me?”  She whispers.  Clearly the sum is more than she will earn on such a slow night, even with decent tips.  You can see the muscles in her throat contract as she swallows.

You lean forward.  “Everything.”  You voice is calm but intense and she looks down at the cash.  There is still hesitancy, and you realize that this is her first offer.  You wonder how long she has been on the job, since you’ve never seen her before.  You lay two more hundreds down upon the table and she looks up at your face, her decision made.

“L-let me go see if Sheila will watch my tables.”  She says, her voice cracking.  You laugh and lay one more hundred on the pile.

“Give her this.  It might motivate her more.” 

Amanda nods, scooping up the small pile of Franklins and pushes them into her little black apron.

Your eyes follow her as she hurries off, first to speak with the bartender who nods knowingly, and then to one of the other girls.  A dark haired vixen who is too small in the bust to be a performer frowns, but then brightens considerably when one of your bills is passed to her.  With an expression bordering between excitement and embarrassment Amanda hurries back over to your table.

“All right sir, it’s all arranged.”

You nod and stand.  You take her hand and lead her toward the back of the VIP section.  Along the back wall a series of small rooms, each curtained off, lay nestled in a row.  A few of them are obviously occupied, the beat of the music making sure that any sounds are expertly covered.  You pull Amanda to the end of the row and step aside, motioning her to precede you into the cubical.

She does, and from her interested glance, you get the impression that this is the first time she’s been in one of the rooms.  A small red tinged light dangles from the ceiling, illuminating the small circular rug in the center of the room.  A chair sits in one corner, its cut resembling a common parlor chair, but with wider and lower armrests, clearly designed for a young girl to kneel upon.

Opposite the chair is a twin bed, covered in white sheets.  A red comforter is pulled back, inviting anyone entering the room to use it.  Next to the bed is a small solid night stand, holding another lamp, this one with a red shade.  You turn toward Amanda and move her to the very center of the room, so that she is standing beneath the overhead light.

You reach up, cupping her face, dipping your head down for a sweet kiss.  Her eyes close as you touch, and she moves closer.  She is stiff, still breathless from the turn of events, and you realize that she is scared.  It may not be her first time, but it is her first time with a customer.  Barriers are about to be broken and you will take that innocence from her.

Pulling her against your body, you kiss her passionately, slowly, knowing that you must savor each moment.  Your lips move from her mouth to her neck, tasting her skin as your fingers move up and down her back.  Her head tips upward, exposing even more and you run your tongue down to her collarbone, eliciting a shiver from her.

Amanda lets out a small moan and your hands come forward, stroking her arms before going back up to her shoulders.  Her eyes are still closed as you find the first button of her shirt, loosening it.  A white lace bra appears, encapsulating two exquisite young breasts.  Her blond hair cascades against her shoulders and you move downward.  Another button pops loose and you lift one finger, placing it in the hollow of her throat.  Slowly it moves downward, sliding through the shadowed crevasse of her bosom.  She takes a deep breath and then you release another button.

Both hands move to Amanda’s shoulders and you slip the shirt off them.  A light touch from neck to shoulder causes her to shiver as you push the shirt even farther down.  It locks her arms in place and you reach around behind her, your expert fingers unfastening the bra with dexterity born of experience.  As the cups fall, she gasps, eyes opening.  The bra straps are pulled down her shoulder as well and you run your hands down her chest, pushing the bra out of the way. 

Her breasts are amazing, as large as grapefruit and just as ripe.  Two pink tipped nipples gleam in the light and you waste no time, dipping your head to taste her.  Your mouth locks down upon her right breast, suckling the puckered tip between your lips, your tongue lashing the nub quickly.  She gasps, her body tightening in your grasp as her head tips backward.  Amanda revels in the sensations of your tongue.

You push the white blouse from her body, drinking in the site of her pale skin, her full breasts.  In seconds the bra follows, dropping discarded to the floor, leaving her standing before you in only her plaid skirt, white knee high socks and the high heeled pumps, a scrumptious treat of youth and vitality.  You reach down behind her as your lips touch hers and your hands find the firm roundness of her bottom.  You squeeze and then grasp the skirt, pulling it up.  Will you find white school girl panties or something naughtier?

Bare skin is under your fingertips and you find the thin strap of a thong.  Seems Amanda is a bit more on the impish side.  You smile as your mouth starts trailing along her neck, inhaling the scents of vanilla and soap.  Slowly you begin to slide downward, tasting her flesh as you go to your knees.  You place your head between her breasts and she wraps her arms around you, holding you between the softness and you practically melt.  Your fingers tug upon the skirt and the elastic waist gives as you pull the tweed cloth downward over her hips.  It falls to the floor. 

Your hands caress her legs, running up and down her calves to her thighs to her bottom.  Then you twine your fingers in the thin straps of her thong and tug, extracting the little red cloth from between her butt cheeks.  You dip lower, kneeling as you pull the thong down her legs and you find yourself looking at her shaved slit, a small triangle of hair trimmed carefully above it.  She gasps as you plant a kiss right on her clit, stepping out of her fallen skirt and panties.

You are hard as a rock.  Pick her up and throw her on the bed and take her! (3a)

It’s time for some judicious torment.  Sit her down in the chair and taste her for real! (3b)