The Party Favor

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue

Chapter Five

It was almost one in the morning when he stopped the car back at Christy's Puppet Palace. She didn't wait for him to come open her door. In fact, she was already rounding the back of the car as he got out of the driver's seat. As she approached, he stood there, and she invaded his personal space, not even aware that she was comfortable doing that.

He put a hand on the roof of the car, above the open door and then put his other hand further back, trapping her between him and the car. She looked up at his face and, for the first time that night, noticed his Oriental features. All night long he had just been 'Josh' and she wondered why now, all of a sudden, she had become aware of his ethnicity.

Then she couldn't think of much of anything as he leaned against her, crushing her breasts to his chest as he lowered his lips to cover hers. She felt the hard spike of his penis pressing her hips against the cold metal of the car. Then he pulled his chest back far enough to allow his hands to slip between them and maul her breasts as he continued to grind his cock against her mons. It was as sexual a kiss as she'd ever engaged in, and it left her both breathless and energized. It went on until she was afraid she might actually have an orgasm if he rubbed against her much longer.

Then he released her.

"I thought you weren't trying to seduce me," she panted.

"I'm not," he said. She noticed he was also breathing faster than normal, and his eyes were bright.

"Then what the hell was that?"

"It's what I've wanted to do ever since I saw you sitting there in the club," he said.

"Do you want to do it again?"

He laughed, but then sobered. "Desperately," he said. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"No," she said, without pausing to think.

"Then, in the words of the famous George W. Bush, forty-third president of these United States of America ... I think we are in agreeance." He backed up, letting her get into her car. Once she did, she closed the door, started the motor and rolled the window down.

"Can I come watch you dance again?"

"Only if you promise to only drink coffee," he said.

"If I do that, what will we go out for a drink afterwards?"

"We'll think of something," he said.

"Okay."

And with that, she rolled up the window and drove away.

She had to masturbate that night, when she got home. Roger had fallen asleep in his recliner, so she didn't wake him when she got into bed. She had to masturbate, but once she'd cum, she fell into a deep sleep.

Somehow, that brief interlude lasted her almost a month. Oddly, the urge to masturbate while thinking about him didn't hit her as often as it had.

The desire to see him again, though, was suddenly strong one day, so she left a note for Roger that she was painting sets for the theater league's upcoming production and wouldn't be home until late. Then she went to Christy's. She didn't dress up this time, wearing jeans and a silk blouse. She did remove her bra before she went, and she felt deliciously naughty at the sensation of her nipples scraping across the silk as her breasts bounced while she walked.

She was disappointed to see he was on stage when she walked in the club. Based on her previous trip, she didn't think anybody danced more than once, which meant she'd missed seeing him. But she was there, so she sat down. He came off the stage and danced up to a table of women who were hooting and hollering. They stuffed bills in his g-string and stroked his flanks until they were reminded no touching was allowed.

Then he danced over to Jennifer.

"Move back from the table," he said in a loud whisper.

She did and he straddled her knees, which were pressed tightly together. He did a bump and grind that made his pouch bounce right in front of her face and the women he'd just left began screaming for him to come back.

"Give me ten minutes," he said, "and then come back stage. Tell them I invited you."

He went back to the other table, where all the women were lined up, leaning back, knees together, money in hand, waiting for their lap dance.

She felt a little foolish walking towards the curtain, beside which a buff young man stood. She was pretty sure she'd seen him dance in a police uniform the last time, but right now he was wearing slacks and a T shirt that showed off all his muscles. He looked her up and down.

"Jennifer?"

She nodded. "I'm supposed to say I was invited, I think."

He smiled. "He told me you were coming. Go to the end of the hall. Knock on the black door. Remember ... no touching."

"No touching," she said, confused.

"Thanks for your cooperation," said the young man, who then held open the curtain for her.

There was an open space right inside the curtain, where a man was waiting, dressed as a construction worker, ready to go on stage. He was practicing a particular movement with his chest and waist, and ignored her. Beyond that was a door which led to what was clearly a dressing room. There were two men in there, one naked, and the other half dressed in swaths of black. There was a Darth Vader helmet on a chair beside him.

Further on were doors, all painted a different color. She went past them to the black door and knocked. Josh opened it, still wearing only his g-string pouch.

"Hi!" he said, grinning. "I was afraid you'd changed your mind and decided it was too dangerous to come see me again."

"It is too dangerous to come see you again," she said, looking him up and down.

"That's one of the things I love about you," he said. "You're so honest and direct." He waved her into the room, which had several different chairs in it, in a circle of sorts, around what looked for all the world like a fine, Persian rug.

"I told Austin you asked for a private dance," he said.

"Oh."

"I can get dressed, if that would make you feel better."

"That would not make me feel better."

"Oh? What would make you feel better?"

"I can't have what would make me feel better," she sighed.

He laughed. "Well I can. Is there any chance I could talk you into giving me one of those fabulous blow jobs you do so flawlessly?"

She blinked. "Really?

"I'm hot as a pistol right now, Jennifer," he said. "I don't think you really appreciate how you affect me. Every time I see you, it gets me going, and I need to do something about it."

"Austin reminded me that there's no touching."

"What Austin doesn't know won't hurt him," said Josh, still grinning.

"Can you possibly wait a little bit?" she asked, carefully.

"I can, but can I ask why?"

"Because if I suck that thing here, in private, I'm going to want to get naked too, and then I'm going to start thinking I can have what I want ... which I can't, as I recall."

"Ahhhh," he said. "In exchange for delayed gratification, I am more than willing to help you control your libido."

He said they needed to stay in the room long enough for Austin and others he didn't name, to think he had danced for her. He didn't tell her he'd have to fork over fifty dollars as the club's cut, but if she'd have found out somehow, he'd have said it was worth it to be able to spend time with her.

So he sat there, almost naked and asked her mundane questions about what she'd been doing since he last saw her. She sat and looked hungrily at his body, firmly aware that this man could fuck her if he wanted to ... and that he knew that. The fact that he didn't was like a huge block of some unknown mineral that she could only circle around, wondering where it had come from, and what it could be used for. She was used to men's eyes slithering all over her, and she knew what they were thinking. But the reason they didn't do anything was because they were afraid of the fallout if things went badly. That wasn't the case with Josh. She knew she'd feel guilty as hell if she let him have her, but she also knew she'd love it while it happened, and that she wouldn't hold it against him.

And she was pretty sure he knew that too.

Then he said they could go, and that he'd meet her at The Wagon Wheel, which was the same place they'd gone before. It was in a semi-industrial part of town that catered more to truck drivers than rich housewives, but that was fine with her, because it meant she wasn’t likely to run into any of her friends there.

When she got there, she stood by the car, waiting. Two men had asked if they could help her before he drove up. She was amazed to see he drove an old, but beautifully restored pickup, of all things. She noted with interest the distinctive shape of the grill, and recognized it as the same truck her grandfather had driven when she was a little girl. She had loved riding in that truck, back when there were no seatbelts, and she could lean out the window and let the wind whip her hair around.

When he got out, he came to her and, as he had done the last time they met, trapped her against the car while he kissed her. His hands slid up into the blouse and she arched her chest at him as he fondled her naked breasts. His fingers found and teased her nipples as his tongue teased her tongue. When he stopped kissing her, he left his hands there.

"You have the finest breasts," he whispered.

"We're in public," she panted. She didn't make him stop.

"Yeah, we are," he said, giving her tender nipples one last squeeze. "If you unbutton that beautiful blouse I'll suck them for you. As I recall, you enjoy that a lot."

"You are not a nice man," she said.

"Not when I'm around you," he agreed.

Ten minutes later they were drinking coffee and she was telling him about the people at the soup kitchen she volunteered at. He wanted to know all about it and asked lots of questions. Then she asked him about his truck.

"It's been my hobby," he said. My apartment has a garage, and I've always loved the old trucks, so I got one and started fixing it up. I only got it finished about six months ago. It took me three years to get done.

"It's a '48, right?"

"How'd you know that?" he asked, looking surprised.

"My grandfather drove one just like it. I loved riding in that truck."

"You want to go for a ride now?"

"It probably wouldn't be smart to leave my car here," she said.

"True," he said.

"Rain check?" he suggested.

"Deal," she said.

"I have a mattress I can throw in the back." He leered.

She smiled, but ignored him as she would have ignored a randy teenager who blurted something inappropriate at her.

As he ate the last of his french-fries and cream gravy, she leaned back.

"I'd like to suck your dick now."

He choked on the french fry and coughed, reaching for a napkin. She sat and watched as he kept coughing until whatever he'd inhaled was free.

"Give a man some warning," he gasped.

"I just did."

He stood, dug money from his pocket - way too much money, she noticed - and held out his hand to her. She let him help her from the booth and walked ahead of him to the door. Once outside, she went to his truck and worked the catch on the tailgate, letting it down. She patted the tailgate and stood back.

"Here?" He was incredulous.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I thought doing things in public wasn't your thing," he said.

"It's not." She looked around, but it was very casual, as if she really didn't care if anyone was there or not. "Things are different with you. I thought I had explained that."

"You did," he said. "Believe me, I don't normally just walk up to a woman and kiss her and grope her breasts."

"And I don't normally offer to suck a man's dick ... any man ... anywhere." There was unspoken hint in her voice that suggested the offer might be withdrawn any second.

"This is crazy," he said, reaching for his zipper. " You're crazy," he said as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. "Maybe that's why I like you so much," he said as he shoved them down, sat on the tailgate and lay back, with his lower legs hanging, but spread open. His prick was rock hard and lay on his abdomen.

She looked around again, this time to see if anyone was watching. Then she got between his legs, bent over his groin, and sucked him like she meant it.

She sat in her car, trembling. She couldn't believe she'd done that. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, though it wasn't really necessary. He was leaning on the bottom edge of the open window, staring at her, his face only inches away from hers.

"You okay?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault," she said. "I'm a grown woman. I should be able to control my impulses."

"So it used to be my fault ... but it isn't any more," he said.

She stared straight ahead. Her fingers were white where they gripped the steering wheel.

"I have a request," he said.

She glanced at him. "You mean that wasn't enough?"

"Don't go catty on me, Jen," he said softly.

"I'm sorry. I'm horny out of my mind right now. I need to go home and masturbate for an hour or two."

"Well that goes with my request. How about I come home with you and meet Randy, and challenge him to a duel for you."

She turned to face him and her nose barely brushed his.

"You know his name is Roger. A duel?"

"Or something along those lines. Winner take all. And if I win, you won't have to masturbate for an hour or two. I promise you that."

"You are not a nice man," she said, for the second time that night.

He stood up. "I'm sorry. Honest. I am not trying to make your life harder than it already is. I wish I could make it easier, but I'm not suggesting anything, or asking you to do anything. That wouldn't be fair. I'm very happy that I got to see you tonight, and I don't mean the blow job." He grinned. "Though that was fantastic. You're a wizard at that, bar none. If there was a contest and the winner got a million dollars, I'd hound you to enter it right pronto."

"With you as my trainer," she said, smiling.

"Of course," he said. "You told me I was the one who brought you out of retirement in the blow job arena. And you have made me a proud man, let me assure you."

It was silent for a long half minute before she finally spoke.

"I don't know if I'll see you again."

"I understand," he said. "It's getting to me too."

"I don't want to stop," she said.

"I don't either."

"You're not making this any easier," she moaned.

"Sorry. I'm a dancer. And when I got this make-it-easier-on-Jennifer gig, they didn't give me any training. I've been doing on-the-job training, but I don't think I've quiet gotten the hang of things yet. Perhaps if we got together half a dozen more times, I'd figure it out.

She groaned. "If we got together half a dozen more times I'd end up pregnant and out on the street, the laughing stock of Briarcliffe and all those women who hate me because I'm so beautiful.

"You're not on the pill?" He looked horrified. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked you something intimate like that."

She squeezed the steering wheel harder, and then relaxed. She'd given this man oral sex ... more than once. And he'd returned the favor in spades, though not tonight. He couldn't possibly ask her something too intimate. But the only response she had was one that made her feel shame.

"Why take the pill and expose yourself to the potential side effects, when you're not at risk of becoming pregnant?" she said. She looked straight ahead. "And I haven't been at risk of becoming pregnant for more than a year."

He leaned down and into the car. His kiss was warm, but brief.

"I have enjoyed knowing you more than you'll ever know," he said. "If by some crazy set of circumstances you go to Brandi's birthday party next year, please have her invite me too."

It was meant to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.

"I have to go," she said, clearly about to lose it. She didn't want to sob in front of him.

He got back just in time as she turned the key, slammed the car into gear and spun the tires, leaving.

Tiffany was waiting for her when she got home.

"Hi, Mom," said her daughter, brightly. "Dad's up in bed, but I need to talk to you before you go up there."

Jennifer waited.

"Christine Stavely and some of her friends are going to see the Black Eyed Peas in Denver this weekend. They invited me to go with them."

Jennifer almost groaned. Denver was six hours away by car. Obviously that meant the girls were going to stay in a motel somewhere.

"You're only fifteen," she said.

"And Christine is sixteen and can drive, so it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal if you're going to stay in a motel over night," said Jennifer. "A bunch of girls out like that in a motel could run into trouble."

"Christine's boyfriend, Dennis is going with us," Tiffany said, somewhat smugly. "Several of the guys are going. They'll protect us from any perverts."

"And who will protect you from them?" asked Jennifer. "You can't seriously expect me to allow this."

"Yes I can." The wheedling note was gone from the teen's voice now, and had been replaced by something hard and sharp-edged. "Christine's mother got drunk the other night and let slip that you went to Mrs. Templeton's birthday party. I think Daddy might be very interested in knowing that. I haven't discussed it with him yet, but he's up there reading a book right now in your bedroom. Maybe we should both go tell him all about it!"

Jen felt the chill freeze her whole body into a state of paralysis. Obviously the kids ... some of them, at least ... were aware of Brandi's parties and what they were about. She had known she should just leave. But curiosity and politics had gotten the best of her. Now she was going to pay for it. And, knowing Tiffany, she would pay for it for the rest of her life.

Tiffany stuck a paper in front of her mother's face.

"This is a waiver of liability. Christine's father insisted that we all sign one if we're going to ride in their van."

Jennifer wanted to ask her daughter why she thought a man might do something like that ... a man who had insurance already, because the law required it. But she knew the girl wouldn't listen to her. Her muscles loosened suddenly. It was over. Nothing would ever be the same again.

"You can tell your father whatever you like," she said. "As long as I am your mother, you do not have permission to go on this trip. Go ask your father for his permission, and have him sign that. He's a lawyer. I'm sure he'll find that fascinating."

"I'll tell him!" warned Tiffany. "I swear I will!" Her voice was shrill now.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" asked Jennifer calmly. "I just told you to tell him whatever you like. Just remember this. This is the one piece of advice I'll give you before I leave. There are consequences to every decision. And in trying to make me pay the consequences for my decisions, you may have to face consequences caused by your own."

"Leaving? Where are you going? You can't go anywhere!"

"You have a lot to learn, Tiffany," said her mother. "My leaving is only the first consequence of you trying to blackmail me."

"You won't leave," sneered her daughter. "You're bluffing. You won't give up all this just because you want to keep me from having fun. I'm going to go talk to him now. If you're not there in ten minutes, I'm telling him about the party. I mean it, Mother. You'd better show up or I'll make your life miserable!"

The girl turned and went up the stairs toward the master bedroom.

Jennifer turned and walked quietly out of the house. She got in her car, started it up again, and drove away.

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