I’m In Lust With A Stripper (Erotica) (3 page)

He reached for the doorknob.

“
Is that all you’re wearing?” He was only wearing his slow hung khaki shorts and sandals, no shirt.

Donté furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong with this, I’m just going to get something to drink. Did you forget what I do for a living? Hell, I’m overdressed.”

Bryce laughed. “You’re right.”

“
Go wash up, I hate the taste of latex and I’ll take care of you when I get back. Deal?”

Bryce grinned. “Deal. See you in a sec.” As soon as he left the room, she raced over to the door and locked it, then she grabbed her purse and went into the bathroom.

Luckily, since she traveled so much for her job she always carried a mini toiletry kit with her. It had mini soaps, disposable washcloths, mouthwash, deodorant and a myriad of other products one usually needed to clean themselves up in airport restrooms during a five-hour layover.

She pulled what she needed out of the kit and started cleaning herself. She had finished and was pacing the floor, when there was a knock on the door. Bryce used the peephole to make sure that it was Donté, it was. She unlocked the door and yelled for him to come in then stepped away from the entrance. She didn’t need anyone other than him to see her naked.

He held up a can of Coke. “Here’s your drink,” he announced before setting it on the dusty nightstand. “And I got me a little something to drink.” He showed her a bottle of liquor.

“
Where did you get that?”

He jutted his chin toward the door. “Out there, they’re selling everything.” He twisted off the top and brought the bottle to his mouth.

“
You’re not going to use a glass?” she asked, repulsed.

“
Hell naw. It’s just me, nobody gonna drink from this.” He took a couple of sips then put the top back on. “Ready?”

Bryce nodded. She backed up to the chair and sat on the pillow. She reclined and splayed her legs.

Donté knelt in front of her and gently thumbed her pussy. “Perfect position. Just sit back and enjoy it. Just pretend that I’m your favorite vibrator. Just relax,” he said soothingly, while he continued to stroke her.

Bryce sighed and let her body go limp. Donté stuck his face between her legs and admired her pussy. It was hairless expect for a landing strip. Using his fingers he spread open her moist folds, showing her pinkness. “So pretty,” Donté murmured before diving in, she jerked slightly when she felt Donté’s tongue on her pussy. He patiently moved his tongue over her folds, taking his time, while gauging her reaction to his movements. He knew that most guys attacked the clit as though they hadn’t eaten in days, but he had learned that the clit needed to be teased, stroked and coddled.

Donté gently swiped his tongue over her clit, Bryce inhaled sharply. Donté caressed her clit with his tongue, while gradually applying pressure; his strokes were slow and measured. Bryce’s hips began moving in sync with his tongue. Between Donté’s saliva and Bryce’s juices, the pillow was getting wet, but neither noticed. Bryce’s movements sped up a bit, but Donté kept his at a slow and steady pace.

He flattened his tongue and licked her pussy, Bryce shuddered. Donté went in for the sweet spot. He resumed his slow and steady strokes while applying the right amount of pressure to her clit.

“
Stay right there, don’t move,” she muttered in an agonized voice. “Oh my!” She clamped his face with her legs, capturing it. She began squealing as her body convulsed while her orgasm swept through her.

Spent, she slumped back in the chair. “Thank you,” she said happily.

Donté stood up and stretched. “Any time,” he drawled.

Donté reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, he lit up, inhaled then offered it to her. Bryce waved him away, she didn’t need anything to calm down, especially after their lovemaking, besides she had to drive home and she didn’t want to risk getting into an accident.

He stretched out on the bed and Bryce joined him, although not so close that they could cuddle. “So you’re getting married?” Donté asked casually.

Bryce nodded, uncomfortable with the subject.

“
When?”

“
In a few weeks,” she stated, not offering up any additional information.

“
You know most women who are getting married don’t end up in a motel room with a stripper. Whassup with that Ma?”

Bryce eyed him. “I’m sure that I’m not the only bride-to-be that you fucked.”

He relaxed on the dingy comforter, his gaze never wavered. “Nope,” he said easily.

She got up and strolled over to the window and looked out. Clusters of people were in the parking lot. That’s where he got his liquor from, she thought.

“
Are you a dancer?”

Bryce laughed. “Yeah, seventeen years of ballet.” She went to the middle of the floor and did a grand Jete her legs spreading as though she was doing a split. “Why did you ask?” she asked mischievously.

“
It was either that or a runner; you’re lean with little tits.”

Bryce jutted out her chin. “They aren’t that little,” she huffed. “And my body is perfect. Besides you seemed to like them while I was playing with them.”

“
True dat. Hey, Ma, I’m just making an observation. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here, simple as that. So where’s your hubby-to-be?” Donté asked.

“
Home.”

“
Isn’t he worried about you?”

“
Not at all, he trusts me,” she answered and a pang of guilt shot through her. This was her first time cheating on him.

Donté chuckled. “Trust is just naiveté wrapped up in shit. Don’t ever trust anybody.”

“
That’s a little harsh,” she said. “Bernard is very trusting,” she insisted and for a split second she wanted to get dressed and run home to her predictable, reliable and boring fiancé, then she saw what was lying on the bed and she immediately forgot about him.

“
Oh Bernard,” he said and Bryce bristled.

“
Don’t do that,” she whispered.

“
What?”

“
Say his name.”

“
Why?” Donté looked genuinely puzzled.

Bryce shrugged as though she didn’t have a reason, but then she decided to tell the truth. “Because it makes him real, it makes what I’m doing real. I’m cheating on my fiancé three weeks before our wedding. And I feel a little guilty, I do,” she said earnestly at the look of skepticism that flashed across Donté’s face. “But not enough to take my black ass out of here.” Bryce went back over to the bed and dropped down beside him. “What did you do before you were a stripper?” she asked, no longer wanting to talk about Bernard.

Donté howled with laughter.

“
What’s so funny?”

“
It’s cool. I like how you cut right to the bone. Most people try to pretty it up and call it exotic dancing or some shit like that. Yeah I’m a stripper; I take my clothes off and show these sugah cakes.”

Bryce smiled. “So what did you do?” she pressed.

The next words out of his mouth shocked her. “I was in prison. For ten years, for possession and conspiracy to distribute drugs,” he said anticipating her questions. She was sure that he had answered them many times before.

“
Wow! So how was that?”

Donté’s face shuttered, as though someone had pulled a blind over it. “Let’s not spoil our evening by talking about that. Maybe another time.” They were silent, then, “But I do give you credit though.”

“
For what?”

“
The first thing most people want to know as soon as I’d tell them that I was in prison is whether or not I was raped or vice versa.”

“
Oh, I didn’t think about that. But since you opened that door…” She looked at him expectantly.

“
Oh hell naw, I’ve seen it and I heard it. But I didn’t participate in it. So don’t worry about that.”

They were silent for a moment. Bryce was the first to break it. “So do you, um, I mean do you do what you did to me on stage with other women?” she tentatively asked.

“
Yeah and no,” he admitted. “I kinda ad-libbed with you. I usually bring an audience member up on stage. I usually have her sit in the chair and I give her a lap dance, something that her friends can take pictures of. But when I saw you, I knew that I wanted you. I had been watching you from the back of the stage watching the other dancers and you looked like you didn’t want to be there. Then finally you let go and it took my breath away.”

Bryce blushed. “Thank you.”

“
And,” he continued softly, “I wanted to feel your pussy and the only way to do that was to put you on top of me. While I was carrying you on stage, I was praying that you had on a thong. And I almost came right there on stage when I saw that you did. Come on, I want to fuck you again,” he said lazily.

It was four o’clock in the morning when she woke. They had the room until noon, but she needed to get home. Her phone was vibrating like crazy while she was with Donté and she knew that it was Bernard. She hurried into the bathroom to relieve herself, she didn’t bother to take a shower, it was filthy. She left the bathroom light on while she picked around the floor for her clothes. As soon as she got everything, she dressed in the bathroom.

Her hand was on the doorknob when Donté called out, “Hey, so when are we going to hook up again?”

Chapter 4

At Vanessa’s suggestion Bryce planned a romantic night out with Bernard. Bryce stared out at the Chattahoochee River, or The Hooch as it’s affectionately called by Atlantans. The restaurant had bright lights trained on the water that made the beams of lights look like ice slicing rocks.

They had spent the day at the spa sharing a couples’ massage, getting manicures and pedicures then facials. Bernard even let her indulge in a mini shopping spree, which was sweet of him since he hated shopping.

Bernard grinned at her. He was the type of man women dreamed about, he was perfect at least on paper. After graduating from Howard, he immediately started working at a small I.T. company that he had interned at for four summers. After ten years he had climbed the ladder of success up to VP of I.T., he had his eye on the CIO position.

His salary was in the low six-figures. While he wasn’t handsome, he wasn’t ugly either, he had the type of face that didn’t garner a second look, but it was pleasant. With his bright red hair, red undertones and freckles, he looked like a black Howdy Doody, and while they were growing up she had teased him unmercifully about it.

He bought his first house when he was twenty-six and the second, a much larger one, two years later.

“
Enjoying your food?” Bryce asked.

Bernard frowned. “It’s okay, it could be better, it’s like they tossed in a handful of cayenne pepper, too much heat,” he muttered. He shuddered. “It’s so cold in here; they really need to turn down the air conditioner.”

Bryce sighed.
Oh, here we go again.
This was the side of him that only she and on occasion his mother were privy to. He was a complainer, he found fault with everything.

The complaining started this morning when she made him French toast for breakfast, and he thought it was too squishy. After his massage, he had whined that the masseuse’s hands were too rough. By the time they got to the facials she had tuned him out.

She thought about Donté, his dick and how he made her feel. She groaned.

“
You okay?” Bernard asked.

“
Umm sure,” she muttered. “I stubbed my foot.”

“
Yeah, be careful. I don’t know why they have this big pole in the middle of the table, it really could hurt someone and…”

She ignored her fiancé and let him babble on while she daydreamed about her lover. She grew warm thinking about him, she had never had such a skillful or passionate lover than him.

“
So how are the plans for the wedding coming along, everything should be done right?”

Bryce shrugged. “Yeah almost, we still need to confirm numbers for the caterer, a lot of people haven’t responded yet.”

Bernard patted her hand, and it twitched, she wanted to snatch it away, she hated it when he patted her hand, it made her feel like she was six-years-old. “Give me the names of those deadbeats who didn’t respond and I’ll call them if you want. I don’t want you stressing out about this,” he said kindly and Bryce couldn’t meet his eyes. Ever since her night with Donté she could barely look him in the eyes.

“
Thanks, I’m okay, I’ll do it,” she said, and continued eating.

“
What about your bouquet, are you all set with that? Was Aisha able to get the flowers you wanted?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

Bryce squelched the urge to shout. Ever since they had set the date he had been involved in every aspect of the wedding. He and Vanessa had coordinated their engagement party, he had accompanied her to every meeting with Aisha, their wedding consultant, and he chimed in on everything from the flowers to bridesmaids’ dresses. And it was pissing her off, he was smothering her. “She did,” she answered quietly.

Bernard reached under the table and stroked her thigh. “So have you given your notice yet at work? You know our parents want us to get pregnant on the honeymoon,” he said and beamed.