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Training Cassiopeia
Date: 8/23/2016, Categories: Love Stories, Author: elspeth
... this. She opened her mouth and licked her lips slowly, her eyes half closed, on the edge of an orgasm. She whimpered once and then grabbed the woman’s hand and rubbed it on her g-stringed pussy. Bree thought she would pull her hand back but she didn’t. She smiled and it was such a beautiful smile that Bree was lost for the second time and stumbled. The girl, a young woman actually, instinctively grabbed her upper arms to steady her. Her touch was like fire on Bree’s skin. The connection was back and Bree decided to just go with it and let come what may. She leaned down and her lips brushed the blonde’s and then Bree straddled her, lost to the music and rubbing her g-string’d pussy on the blonde’s skirt in a parody of fucking. “How much for…?” she choked on the words, clearly aroused and wanting more. Bree had to be careful and so replied, “How much for what, exactly?” The blonde’s beautiful gray eyes narrowed and her full lips compressed into a cruel smirk. “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t make me spell it out for you.” The fingers of one hand held several Ben Franklins while the other hand was cupping the dancer’s breast, the thumb teasing her bare nipple. Bree levered herself into a standing position suddenly very much aware of her nakedness. “Honey, spell it out or get the fuck out!” ...
... The dancer waited a full thirty seconds and then turned and hit the red panic button on the wall next to the door. The dim lighting flared to normal suddenly. She didn’t look like a vice cop but a working girl had to protect herself. The blonde shoved the money into her purse and adjusted her clothing and walked regally to the door, stopping to shove a business card into the dancer’s g-string. When Marty, the bouncer, who’d been bounced one too many times himself, opened the door, she slipped past him and left. “Jesus, Bree, what was that all about?” Marty wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier so she explained things clearly, using very small words. “She’s a vice cop. Offered big bucks for ‘more’ but wouldn’t come out and say it. Entrapment, Marty. It’s called entrapment.” Bree tidied up the room. It didn’t need it but she needed the time to center herself before going back to the job. She still had forty-five minutes before she could head home and sack out. Whoever she was, she was gone when Bree did her last dance. The woman’s companions were still there and drinking heavily. She sighed, glanced at the clock beside the service bar and went on about her business. Forty-five more minutes and she’d be out of there and on her way home to a hot bath and another chapter of Shades of Grey.