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Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club

 

4b – Revealing Rebecca

The look on the waitress’ face when you ask her to let Rebecca know you are interested in meeting her is patently naughty.  She gives you a look of approval, as if she thinks Rebecca is one of the best performers at the Club.  Settling back in your chair you take another sip from your drink and continue to watch the various dancers circulate through the various stages.  Beautiful blonds, red heads, and brunettes seem to flutter before your eyes, but none match the beauty of Rebecca, at least in your eyes.  A woman’s beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.  While some men might have been attracted to the athletic and muscular lines of a gymnast like Megan, or the perverted kinkiness of the auburn Breanne, Rebecca’s soft curves and lush body is like falling into a thick down comforter, surrounded by goose feather pillows.  Add sexual euphoria to that and you’ve got a decent master bedroom!

When she finally arrives she’s changed into something more provocative.  Not that you would have minded her showing up at your table wearing nothing but her g-string and high heels, but a woman’s apparel is more than just covering.  It tells you something about her personality, her likes and dislikes, her style.  It accentuates how she moves, how she reacts, and how she makes love.  Rebecca is no college waif, dressing in the cute teenage or slut outfits so common to university co-eds.  She wears a daringly cut evening dress that clings to her curves like a race car clings to the track.  Its purple sheer fabric wraps around her, conforming to her body and once again you are subjected to the feelings of lush over-ripeness.

It is tough to describe.  Her breasts are huge, but not disproportionate to her body; her hips wide, with her tiny waist dipping deeply inward.  She isn’t thin, and isn’t fat, but just right, as if Michelangelo had sculpted perfection and then the marble turned to flesh.  Her blond hair is perfect, curled into ringlets that frame her face, her beaming smile, and sapphire colored eyes seem to attract the light.  Immediately you suppress the urge to bury your face in the soft valley between her breasts.

“Hello.  I’m Rebecca.  I heard you wanted to see me?” she says, sitting down.  She carries a small purse which she puts gently down on the table.  Amazingly it matches the dress perfectly, as if they’re a set. 

“More than see, actually.  If all I wanted was to see you, then I certainly could have done that without asking you to meet me,” you reply.

She smiles.  “I could have gotten busy though, and then you wouldn’t have had the opportunity.  I’m pretty popular.”  She licks her lips seductively.  “But I’m here now.  What do you desire this evening?”  She asks.  She scoots her chair closer to yours, somehow making the movement graceful.  Her right foot touches your leg and she begins to stroke it up and down your calf.  You notice she is wearing open toed high heel shoes, of the exact same color as her dress.  Even her toe nails are painted purple and you notice her fingernails match as well.

What a loaded question!  A million thoughts tumble through your mind as this woman looks at you through lowered lashes.  Her eyes sparkle, but not with giddiness or innocence, but with a smoldering heat that hints of quiet abandon transforming to soft release.  She is temptation personified, and for a moment, you realize that if the devil had ever been female and looked and felt like Rebecca, no man on earth could resist sin.

“What I desire, is you,” you reply, some how feeling slightly foolish.  She smiles appreciatively and rises, holding out her hand.  Taking her fingers you feel the energy course through you as your body reacts to her proximity.  She leads you to the back of the VIP lounge toward the private rooms, pushing aside the curtain of one of the spares. 

A large bed covered in red silk sheets sits in the corner with a small side table next to it.  An overstuffed armchair, looking very comfortable, stands opposite, perfect for all the intricacies of lap dances.

She pulls you forward, taking your hand, pushing you toward the chair.  You fall into the deep cushioned upholstery as she stands above you.  The sound of the music filters in, drifting through the walls and the curtain doorway.  Rebecca starts to sway in front of you, her hips moving to the music as her hands caress her body, swirling across the purple cloth covered breasts.  She strokes her curves, moving in time to the beat.  Slowly, her fingers find the small zipper hidden on the side of her outfit.  She snags it and begins to tug, pulling it slowly down. 

The cloth begins to gape, spreading open, baring creamy white skin.  The dress slips down her body, the upper curve of her breasts appearing as the cloth falls.  For a moment, the dress seems to snag on her nipples, holding on there, but the loosening of the zipper allows the dress to fall, suddenly baring both perfect breasts to your eyes.  And then the dress falls, her flat belly fully exposed, and then it stops, folding on her hips.  She smiles, twirling once, which causes the dress to flare outward.  It spins and she moves her hips, shimmying in an almost belly dancer like position and the dress looses its hold on her, slipping and spinning off her hips and over her bottom, falling around her high heels.

She stands before you, gloriously naked, except for the barest of g-strings, a tiny piece of cloth that covers the one spot you truly wish to explore.  Her magnificent large breasts are exposed to you and she reaches up, tweaking both nipples.  Her hands glide across her skin until they snag on the straps of her g-string, tugging until she pulls them from the crack of her bottom and downward.  She turns while removing them, giving you a look at her faultless rear end.  Finally the g-string lies like a thread beneath her feet and she kicks the dress and panties away, sending them across the room to land in a crumpled heap.

She moves forward onto the chair, straddling your lap, lifting your hands and setting them delicately on both breasts.  You can’t help squeezing and kneading, examining the sloping curves filling your palms.  They are soft and full.  No silicone here.  She puts her knees up on the arm rests, pressing her body up against yours until her breasts are mashed against your face.  She moves back and forth slowly, wanting to feel your tongue and lips and chin on her nipples.  With patient movements she rocks back and forth, rubbing the hard tips of her breasts across your mouth, allowing you to suckle her.

The soft flesh of her breasts bounce against your face, over and over, your bodies tingling as you suckle her nipples, driving little shivers up through her body.  Sparks seem to fly downward to the connection between you and you feel her tremble in heat and wetness.  She pulls backward, feeling the suction of your mouth, her nipple popping out from between your lips as she begins to slide down your legs.  She ends up on her knees, arms resting on your thighs as her fingers find your belt buckle, then your button, then your zipper, and then your cock.  She frees you from your cotton bindings.

For a moment she just stares at your cock, standing at attention before her.  Then she grasps it with her right hand while her other hand tugs your trousers and boxers down your legs.  When your clothing has been tossed aside she pushes your legs apart, moving inward, her head dropping down, and she takes the first sweet lick.

You groan as her left hand finds your balls, softly stroking them as her right hand pumps slightly, long strokes up and down your shaft, matching the movement of her mouth as she sucks on the tip, swirling her tongue round and round.  For the first few minutes, she does nothing but consume and lick the tip, letting her hand stimulate the length of your cock.  She runs her tongue down the ridge and then open her mouth, taking as much of the rod as possible into her throat.  Swallowing, bobbing her head downward, she creates a sensation of pleasurable depth as your shaft is suckled, blown, licked, and stroked.

Her head comes up and only the tip of your shaft is still in her mouth.  But as she lifts her mouth her hand slips up the length of your rod, stroking.  You can’t tell where her hand starts and where the mouth stops.  She deep throats you once more, burying your shaft in her throat, almost gagging, but managing to caress your entire length with her mouth.  She makes long slurps, sucking along the edges of your sex, all while bobbing her head up and down in your lap. 

Then she lifts up her head, looking at you, eyes bright, mouth upturned at the corners, enjoying the sight of you in the throes of sexual ecstasy.  Her left hand finds the tip of your cock and she begins long up and down strokes with her right hand as the left begins a twisting caress, as if she’s screwing in a light bulb.  Little tremors immediately run through your granite pillar.  It’s a stroke that no man can give himself.  It must come from a partner and it drives you wild, forcing you to thrust upward, filling you with a terrible urge.  You fight for control.

She watches you carefully, gauging your reactions.  Finally she stops, seeing the look in your face; the pleasure, the need, the desperation, and she stands up.  She moves toward you, once more straddling your lap, but this time, your bare skin touches, and you feel the tip of your wet cock slipping against the petals of her pussy.

Once more she presses her breasts into your face, feeling your lips on her nipples, your fingers tracing circles on her bare skin.  She closes her eyes and slowly drops downward, feeling your shaft begin to slip into her body, spreading her open.  She groans as she impales herself on your cock, hips rocking back and forth working it in deeper.  She bounces on your lap, grinding herself back and forth as she rides you, feeling your granite pillar push into her like a spit.  She moans softly as your mouth covers her breasts, and she reaches up to cup them, holding them out for you like an offering.   You feel her contract around you, squeezing you with her pussy, tightening repeatedly around your shaft.

Then to your surprise she leans back a bit and grins, her eyes glinting mischievously.  She leans over to the night stand; all the while remaining impaled on your cock, and opens the bottom drawer, extracting a pair of silver nipple clamps on a chain.  Each clamp is coated with rubber and two small screws change the pressure.  She holds them out to you, hoping you will take them and put them on her.

Who are you to argue with a beautiful woman who wants her nipples clamped?

She gasps as you let the clamps close on each nipple, one at a time, and the delicious pinching shoots up through her breasts straight to her spine and then rushes downward, like lightning.  She gasps, her eyes closing, her head thrown back, and she lifts up high and then rams herself down hard upon your cock.

You thrust into her as she moves faster, bouncing up and down on you like a revving engine, pistoning with force, her eyes closed as she moves wildly on top of you.  Her mouth opens in a permanent cry of pleasure as she feels you push upward into her, deeply penetrating her secret depths.

To your astonishment she quivers astride you, a soft moan changing into something more intense.  You feel her tremble as her pleasure rises up inside her, filling her, overwhelming her in ecstasy.  She cries out, grasping your shoulders and pushing down as hard as possible as the orgasm rips through her like an earthquake, shaking her foundations and breaking all the windows.  You feel her clamp down upon your cock, a vise like grip that locks you in immobile bliss for almost a full thirty seconds before she collapses against you, a sheen of perspiration beading up between her breasts and across her brow.

You hold her softly against you as she regains her composure.  Your need is as strong as ever.  Pick her up gently and move her to the bed. (14a)

What a naughty girl!  You are the client and she let herself orgasm first!  Since she likes nipple clamps, maybe she’s kinkier in a number of ways.  Twist her around in your lap, keeping her impaled on your cock until she is positioned for an incredible session of English Spanking. (14b)