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[06 Oct 2015|01:09am]
Home. Apartment.

Tess and Clark get off the elevator. She straightens her blouse and pulls down her skirt. Her shirt is unbuttoned exposing just enough breast to look like she may have forgotten a button by accident so that no one would suspect that he was all over her in the elevator. Hip bones touching. He was all Texas from his hair to his boot. She had tunnel vision. Forgetting that the elevator was moving, she was lost in his gaze. Hazel eyes that became tigerlike- slits that corsetted tightly whenever he was about to fuck, fight, or piss off a man wearing a white collar suit.


I imagined that my life would turn out dull. Funny hearing it from me. But when you're a dancer, everyone is trying to talk to you. Head to toe, I am made up to be your dream girl. But your dream girl falls in love with you. I don't.

Don't get me wrong, when the Big Band plays, and the girls strut across the stage in pantyhose and lingerie, it feels like you're suddenly Nicole Kidman in the Moulin Rouge. Everyone is paying good money so you shake your tail feather in a way that makes their wife cringe. That part is fine. Everyday is a good day to put on pearls and act like you're the boss for five minutes. I just get an hour and forty five.

Clark did not hide the fact that he was gunnin for me. He even let the other girls know that the only dancer he wanted was me and not them. Girls weren't even gonna charge him. They just wanted to be on him. Back in 1989, we referred to him as Elvis because every exotic dancer, cocktail waitresses, bartender and yes Joe shmoo knew, they knew- he was the main attraction.

A muscular build, an asshole face. Husband material. Arms to carry you, hands to hold you, fingers to…


Back in '89 another dancer told me her real name.


Blonde, wavy like the Farrah Faucet poster. A man could have hit me with a baseball bat and I wouldn't see him commin lookin at her ass. A red flirty skirt and shapely bodice. This was no stripper. It was a Victoria Secret Model who lost her way home. She come stay at my home any day of the week. Which is why I asked her to move in the second week. Just so I could bite into her ass when the moment struck.


Everyone calls her Tess.

But she's Allison in our bedroom.

My Allison.

Tess dances on stage, she'll get you hard.

But Allison comes home with me, and rides my cock.


"Got it open yet? Come on."

"Keys. Fucking. Piece. Of shit."

Clark feels her breath on his neck. It makes something as simple as using door ten times as difficult.

Clark kicks the door.


They forget to close it.

He's got one hand holding her waist. They're in the centre of the kitchen kissing. They dance backwards so that Clark can kick the door shut.

She can't undress him fast enough.

He can't wait.

He puts her on the kitchen table. It wobbles. He smiles because her ass hitting the table surprised the both of them. Her sundress flies with the fall. He gets a glimpse of her lacey red thong. He puts his hands underneath…

She juts forward.

He looks at her with kind of look that says every time you underestimate me. and every time I prove to you that I'm the best. I know what you like and I'm going to take us there…


I had gin and tonic.

This redneck gets a bottle of Jack. Figures I'll get so wasted, she'll wanna take care of me. And when I fall on the pavement, she'll make sure I get to my bed. And when she hovers over me, I'll say she's really good at that nursing stuff and might she delight herself in some ice-cream and cock.


I hadn't been so nervous in my entire life.

I kept ordering more drinks because I was getting hard and I didn't want to be rude. But that's what you're supposed to do-- get hard-- nobody goes to a strip club for the DJ. But I wanted her to take me seriously. Because I imagine some pretty like that is enough to drive men stupid. I wasn't gonna be the idiot askin if she'd like to see my jaguar.


Cause mainly I didn't have a jaguar.


They had messed up the floor plan in the kitchen living room combo. End tables crooked, clothes adorning the couch and ottoman.

He had tried to remove her bra, but she declined.

She wanted him to wait until she was on top riding his dick, so that her breasts could bounce with the action.

His belt had been unbuckled.

It's unclear who did that.

He lay on the bed with her thighs on either side. His hands massaged her.

She took off her bra at that moment.

He had waited long enough.


Clark Dylan Daniels.

Even his name sounds like someone who pulls your hair when he's pounding from behind. Which he did. He wrap her hair around his wrist and give a little tug and would stop if she wanted.


Allison (Tess) Daniels.

The greatest lover I had ever known.

Too corny?

Allison, Daniels.

The reason teenage boys try to sneak into a strip club.. but they go home and play their gameboys and every pair of boobs is like the last pair of boobs. But here I was. I walked in looking for a little wonder, and I couldn't walk out without needing to have her for the rest of my life. Nice ass too.


Annnddd you'll have to buy the book to see the full version. HA :)

Hope you enjoyed it!
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[09 May 2014|12:48am]
Where's my piece of happy
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[15 Sep 2013|12:54pm]
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[21 Apr 2010|12:49am]
Friends Only.

[20 Nov 2009|04:32pm]
Grayson Matthews is a ridiculously good. I suggest you download him on itunes.

Madame and What You Do To Me *thumbs up*.
I'm waiting for the 'All You Need is Love' cover. :)

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