Torrie's Year - Sex Stories

Torrie's Year

... clutching her hair, thrusting upward, bouncing her on and off his cock. She collapsed on top of him, out of breath, "I'll do it. Next weekend. I'll give it a try." Chapter 9 "Why did I ever get married?" Torrie asked herself, adjusting her now platinum blonde dyed hair. She had just done her first dance. She felt at home, sliding around the pole, humping it like it was Fat Rob's cock. She picked up money when his customers placed it on the stage, dancing for a few moments before moving on. Fat Rob complimented her natural skills, suggested she had this inside her all along. She agreed with him, telling him that he brought it to the surface. For the next three hours, she danced twice more on stage, sold 20 lap dances, five of which involved a little extra pay to provide a hand job while dancing in the private room, or allowing the patron to suck on her tits a little. Torrie loved it. She arrived back at Fat Rob's placed, immediately removing her clothing, grunting and moaning as Fat Rob slammed in to her pussy over and over again. After her first orgasm, Fat Rob rolled over, taking her with him. "Ride that dick," he said, slapping her ass a few times. "Ah yes!" Torrie came within minutes, resting her head on his shoulder. "Why did I ever get married?" She whispered, recalling the events of this amazing night. Fat Rob pinched her butt, signaling her to get ready, as it was his turn. A few minutes later his seed spilled out of her vagina, coating his balls. Knowing what to do, ...

... Torrie went to her knees and began cleaning Fat Rob's cock of semen and vaginal fluids. When she was done Fat Rob tipped her chin with his index finger, her eyes staring into his now. "Say it again?" He asked. Torrie knew what he was referring to and replied, "Why did I ever get married?" She meant it. It wasn't just because she was getting plowed regularly by black cock; she meant it because she truly, deep down, wanted this kind of sexual lifestyle. ******************** At first, Torrie just quit working at the jewelry store and started working during the day at Fat Rob's club. She earned far more money and gained a bit of a following. She was able to hide her increased earnings from John. Soon, Torrie added stripping and dancing on weekends. Lying to her family, saying she was hanging out with a new church friend. Over the next couple weeks, Torrie found herself being paid a little extra for something more than just a private lap dance. By late April she was providing oral services or sex to nearly every single black man that bought a private dance from her. She loved every second of it. She loved crawling in bed with the semen on her breath and semen oozing out of her pussy, while John snored away, blissfully ignorant of her double life. "Ugh, you're a good dancer," Fat Rob told Torrie the last Sunday morning in April after their weekly breakfast, in between powerful thrusts from behind. "I be your boy wouldn't mind seeing you dance," Fat Rob taunted. Torrie, nearly forgot ...