Magic


The heavy smoke-laden air of the little strip joint greeted
my nostrils like an old friend when I stepped inside the
flashing lights, pounding music, and friendly girls.  The
one hanging off the pole, breasts swinging through the air
like pendulums, is an old friend.  I sat down before her and
when she slid down she glanced at the door, flashed me a
quickie inside her G-string and a smile.  How good to be
back.  It's been months.

You know how it goes - every once in a great while magic
happens and life is good.  This was the night.  I couldn't
know it when as I first made my way past the bar, beer in
hand, toward the stage.  But I'll never forget it either.

It was late enough that the three girls working were all a
little bit high and a lot horny.  It's a little, small town,
not-closely-watched place and there's lots of touching and
feeling on both sides of the G-string.  We "old-time"
customers who the girls know and like get special
treatment.  I'd got a couple of privates and had been
tipping regularly through the night, flirting like crazy
with the dancers, doing the usual feel-good thing when the
magic happened.

Taylor, that's her name, started talking dirty to me.  She
was sitting on my lap at the time, rubbing her tits in my
face and I had my hands on her ass.  Since I'd been rubbing
her back, whispering in her ear, kissing her neck and mouth,
I thought to ask, "What feels best to you?"  She answered
huskily, "Your tongue in my pussy, sucking the hell out of
my clit ring, making me cum till I gush all over your face."

Sounded good to me.

Just then the bartender, Linda, called out that it was
closing time.  I asked Taylor if she really meant what she
said.  Like a mischievous imp she said, "Wait here while I
change."  I'd seen that drill before.  You wait and wait and
she never shows and you end up leaving feeling like a jerk
and with a bad taste.  But I'm a sucker for a come-on so I
waited.

In just a few minutes she bounced out of the dressing room
pulling on a T-shirt and grabbing at the zipper of some
too-tight jeans.  She grabbed my hand with one of hers, with
the other she dug into my pocket for my car keys.  "I'm
driving" she declared.

Drive she did.  I don't know where she drove because she
pulled my head into her crotch and I lost interest in the
geography outside the car in favor of the hills and valleys
inside.  But after about twenty minutes she stopped in front
of an old barn.  There were no lights in the parking area,
but there were about a dozen cars.  At the door she gave a
series of sharp knocks.  Someone looked out through a small
peek-hole and the door swung open.

It must have been some kind of a private screening movie
theater.  I saw about fifteen couples standing in the front
room talking, leaning on each other, feeling each other up,
hands inside blouses, hands inside pants, hands inside
mouths.  The woman behind the popcorn bar said, "You all can
go in now" and the group started moving toward a large,
vacant room.  On one end was a movie screen - floor to
ceiling.  Backed up against the wall were ten or twelve
well-padded wicker couches.  We all started dragging the
couches out into the position we wanted for watching the
movie.  Taylor wanted ours down front and center.  I sat
down, expecting the movie to start, figuring that it would
be some X-rated thing and we'd have a good old time while
watching it, and watching the other couples, and being
watched by them.  This was great.

But Taylor had other plans.  Without a warning she had my
jeans open and started pulling them off.  Okay by me.  A
promising start.  Then she tugged at my shirt.  Next thing I
knew I was stark naked and the movie hadn't even started
yet.  She called the popcorn woman who brought her a
handcuff.  Taylor clipped one end of the cuff to her right
wrist and the other to mine.

Without a word she got up, with me in tow, and took her time
walking among the other would-be movie watchers.  I felt
pretty weird about all this, but it was still kinda cool.  A
couple of the women pinched my butt or yanked my dick. I
tried to return the favors but Taylor yanked my cuffed wrist
and kept me moving.

We'd both had five or six beers.  I needed to piss big
time.  Apparently she did too because she led me into the
women's room - filled with women - dragged me into the stall
after her and treated me to watching her piss, while my dick
was sticking right into her face.  When she wiped I stuck my
cuff-entrapped fingers up, trying to get into her pussy, but
she kept me moving.  I was too hard to piss and she laughed
at me, standing there aiming at the pot, with her stroking
my miserable member.

The movie had started before we left the women's room.
Remembering it - actually remembering Taylor while we
"watched" it has got me distracted and unfocused and feeling
warm and bubbly and about to run down through the cracks.
I'll have to write the rest another time.

Jafin