Kayden: The Past (25 page)

“No problem. I’ll pass on the word to the guys that she’s not interested.” I gestured with my hand for Carrie to walk ahead. I wanted her to pick the location, and I wanted to watch her ass jiggle as she walked. It had a bounce, and I fucking loved it. Not the bounce of extra pounds, but idea of some junk in the trunk, something to hold on to while my cock was buried inside her. “Do you and her...?” I whispered in her ear.

“Fuck no, I’m all about the cock, baby. Now Sam and Kelly… they’re another story.” She laughed. I wouldn’t mind a front row seat at that show while Kelly sucked my cock, but I didn’t feel like a group party, at least not tonight.

Carrie sat down, and I took the seat next to her while everyone else sat guys vs. girls at the table. I could see it wasn’t a night for the group to co-mingle, but for everyone else to watch the ladies shake their shit on stage.

“Drink?” A waitress asked. They didn’t waste any time; the more liquor in the system, the quicker the money flowed out of your pocket and into the hands of the girls at the club. I knew the game having been immersed in the scene back in the day.

“First rounds on me. I’ll take a beer please, ladies?” I asked Sam and Kelly across the table. They both smiled and placed their drink order.

“Fuck, we already bought ours,” Tom complained.

“Just order a damn drink. You’ll finish those before she makes it back.” I swear sometimes their brains didn’t function. A room full of pussy and it all turned to mush.

I turned my attention back to Carrie. Her legs were crossed, and her body faced me slightly leaning forward. Her body language had a whole lot to say even though her mouth said nothing. She rubbed her legs together and nudged my knee a couple times, trying to find any reason to touch me.

“What’s your story, Carrie?” My curiosity was peeked – what the fuck was her deal? Why was she here and not home with a boyfriend at her side?

“I’m in school and don’t have the time nor want the hassle of a boyfriend.” She ran her fingers down the middle of her breasts, and my eyes watched her nails leave goose bumps across her skin.

“So just not time? You want the pleasure without the bullshit?”

“Yes, I need time to study. I’m on a scholarship and can’t fuck it up. I had a boyfriend freshman year and almost flunked out. No cock is going to ruin my future.”

“Do you do this a lot? Troll Fuckbook looking for cock?” I rubbed my goatee and watched her face carefully. I looked for any telltale signs of lying.

“No, I hooked up with someone a year ago on that site. We met up a couple of times a month. Neither of us wanted a relationship, just sex. He moved away after he was done with school. I’m on the prowl for fresh meat, and you just happened to show up on my recommendations.” Not a blink or fidget as she spoke. “Is it something you do often?”

“Fuckbook? Nope, you’re the first person I’ve met off there. Have I met someone off the internet? Yes. I dated someone I found from high school on there. Total fucking disaster. I just need someone to blow off some steam with. I want to have fun without the heart and bullshit.”

“Dance?” A girl tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned. Her tits were right in my face.

“That’s up to the lady,” I said looking towards Carrie.

“Sure, I’d like to watch.” She leaned back in her seat and smiled.

I grabbed a fifty out of my wallet and handed it to the buxom blond. “You dance for her. I’ll be the one watching.”

Carrie didn’t miss a beat or look shocked. “Gotcha buddy, whatever you want. I’m Angel by the way.”

“Just grind on her honey, make her wet,” I said. Angel moved Carrie’s knees apart, putting her feet flat on the floor. Angel placed her knee between Carrie’s legs, prying them apart just enough to fit her leg in between. She placed her knee in Carrie’s crotch making contact. She rubbed her tits in her face and against Carrie’s chest. She grinded and rubbed everything against her.

When a guy gets a lap dance, the contact is minimal and more about a good show. If they were naked right now, I’d swear to fucking God they were fucking. It was erotic, and Carrie, for all her cock talk, seemed to be interested and turned on. Angel turned around and bent over with her pussy practically in Carrie’s face. She grabbed Angel’s ass and smacked it. It was the best fully clothed porn I’d seen in ages. My cock grew hard and ached to be inside Carrie or any hot piece of ass at the moment. I’d fuck Angel in the bathroom right now if Carrie wasn’t game. The lap dance was slow and sensual, not filled with fervor, but a slow lust-filled assault on the senses. Before Angel walked away, she leaned down and placed a very passionate kiss on Carrie’s lips. I watched as Carrie leaned into her almost craving the touch and passion. I had her right where I wanted her.

I didn’t want to wait a week to fuck her; I’d find a spot. Strip clubs are filled with nooks and crannies, all types of places for naughty things to happen. I’m sure Angel would help me. I watched as Angel touched Carrie’s chin and winked at me before walking away. Carrie sat there still in a fog of lust. “Been a while?” I asked as I ran my hand up her leg to her inner thigh.

She shook her head yes. “Too fucking long. Damn that shit was hot.”

I laughed. Some women would have been pissed off or embarrassed, but Carrie was a champ, maybe a pro, even. “Not pissed?”

“Fuck no, my panties are soaked. Wanna feel?” She grinned, parting her legs a bit further, and my cock pulsed in my jeans wanting to break free from its confinement.

I didn’t answer but moved my hand into her skirt; she didn’t have on any panties. I should have known; she didn’t look like the type of girl who wore panties – too sexual to want the barrier. I ran my finger through her wetness feeling the smoothness of her skin against mine. She closed her eyes relishing the feel of the contact. Her legs spread a little wider, and her body leaned back in the chair, her hips tilting upward in invitation. I placed two fingers against her skin and raked the moisture pooling on my fingers. I didn’t look around; I didn’t give a fuck who watched. We were in a strip club not a fancy restaurant.

I pushed two fingers inside of her, her body already slick, and her head fell back from the sensation. I curved my fingers upward searching for her g-spot. I found it easily and rubbed it, moving my fingers in and out and curling them against her insides. Her legs closed trapping my fingers in their place. I leaned forward for more leverage to move inside of her. Her hands gripped the chair, and I started to rub my thumb against her clit. Her pussy clamped down on my fingers, sucking me in, holding them prisoner. I increased the pressure but kept my movement steady and unwavering. She raised her head and stared straight into my eyes as her pussy milked my finger, and she came apart with a silent ‘oh’ on her lips. Her eyes bore into me with a look of wonderment as her chest heaved, and her breath was ragged.

“Better?” I asked with a grin as I removed my fingers from her body and slid them down her legs leaving a trail of wetness in their wake.

“Fuck, your fingers are amazing.” She licked her lips and couldn’t take her eyes off me.

“Imagine what my cock could do.” I picked up my drink and took a sip. No one seemed to notice what happened; if they did, they didn’t let on. They were busy watching the girls dance on the stage and the action taking place in the room.

She raised her glass to her mouth with shaky hands before taking a couple gulps of the cold liquid. “Jesus, I don’t know if I can handle you.”

“You will. Just don’t fall in love with me.”

“Love won’t be a problem,” she said quickly.

“So sure, are you?” I asked with a cocky smirk on my face. “My cock might jumble your brain, cross a few wires, and bam, you’ll love me hard.”

She almost choked on her drink with the last words out of my mouth. I knew the double meaning of the words. “Why in the hell are you single? I know I just don’t want the complication; school is too important to me, but you, I just don’t get.”

I didn’t feel like vomiting my whole life’s fucked up history to this girl I barely knew. “I’ve been unlucky with women. I always seem to pick the wrong ones to commit myself to, so now, I want the physical without the hassle.”

“Eh, we’ve all been unlucky. No one has the fairytale we read about as children, at least not easily. Have to walk through the shit to appreciate the good. At least that’s what my mom used to tell me.” She shrugged her shoulders and twirled the straw in her mouth. “Wanna get out of here and go somewhere else?”

“Some place more private? I thought this was supposed to just be a meeting and getting to know each other thing.”

“No, big guy, you kind of ruined that when you stuck your fingers in me. I want to walk around and get a drink. I never like to stay in one place too long. Game? See where the night takes us.”

Her plan sounded promising, and strip clubs weren’t my scene anymore. They left a bad taste in my mouth. New Orleans had too much to see and experience to sit in a titty bar. “I’m game for anything, always have been. I’m kind of like Nike – just do it.”

“I was hoping your motto is closer to Energizer – it keeps going. And going. And going.” She winked at me.

“Just remember Timex took my phrase – Takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’,” I laughed. She was a smart girl; at least she had her head in the right spot, college before a relationship. A degree was something you could always depend on unlike a partner.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s jet.” She stood up and placed her drink on the table and ran her fingertips around the rim before sticking her fingers in her mouth and sucking on it. My cock twitched watching her suck on her finger with her eyes closed. “Kayden and I are heading outside. You all wanna come or you stayin’ here?” she asked her friends.

The girls looked at each other and made a couple facial expressions that I didn’t fucking understand. Women had more silent signals than a man could learn in a lifetime. “My feet are killing; we’ll stay here and enjoy the ladies and the guys if they want to stay, too.” The guys heard those words, and their faces were all smiles. They acted the entire night like they weren’t interested in the girls and played it cool, but it was all a bullshit game. The guys didn’t match the girls; they didn’t hang on the same ladder rung of beauty, but I knew the guys would buy drinks, and possibly after enough, the guys would start to look better, but even then, it was a stretch.

“You guys staying here, too?” I asked looking at them not really needing their answer; they were as transparent as the condom in my pocket.

“Yeah, we’ll meet up with you later,” Mark said as he tipped his chin to me as if saying they got this shit. Hardly, but I guess a guy can dream.

“Come on doll. Let’s hit the town. Where’s the first stop?” I stood up and threw a fifty on the table. I knew it was way too much, but what the fuck, why not. Women didn’t like cheap bastards.

“
Pat O’Brien’s
. I want a Hurricane, and they have the most amazing courtyard.” She grabbed her purse off the back of the chair, and I followed her towards the door.

“How old are you Carrie, if you don’t mind asking?”

“I don’t mind. I’m twenty two and you?” she asked as we finally found our way through the club exit.

“I’m in my early thirties. Can we leave it at that? I feel kind of dirty now that I know you’re so young.”

“Oh fuck age, I’m legal.” She had a point. I didn’t want a relationship with her; I just wanted to bend her over a table and fuck her.

It became hard to talk with the music from the bars filling the streets and the mass of people chattering as we walked. I stayed by her side, and she grabbed my hand and led me towards Pat O’Brien’s. The white and green sign hung above the door, and the exterior walls were decorated in a rusty red with green shutters. We walked through the space, and I let go of her hand; holding hands was just a little too much like being in a relationship for me to stomach.

The courtyard was a beauty with glowing fountains, twinkling lights, and softness. We found a spot at the bar and ordered Hurricanes. Funny that a city that was desecrated by a hurricane only a couple years earlier was known for it as a drink.

We talked mostly about New Orleans, a very neutral topic. I didn’t want to know too much about her, and from what I could tell, she didn’t want to know much about me. I needed to know that she wasn’t a crazy whore who I’d have to deal with in the future. I wanted simple – I needed simple. I didn’t give a fuck about what she was studying, where she came from, or who broke her heart. I didn’t want to share my life with her; I wasn’t looking to build a future. We listened to the music, and she told me about all the fun NOLA had to offer. She’d never leave New Orleans. “It becomes part of you. You’ll see. It’s a romance that never leaves your heart.”

I’ve never felt that way about any place I’ve lived. It had always been just a place to plant my feet until the next great opportunity came, or my reckless choices caused me to leave.

Carrie touched me as she talked, small touches at first, my forearms with her fingertips to start and eventually clasping her hand around my arm and squeezing tightly. There was a chemistry between us and nothing said ‘run the fuck away now’, all lights were green - we were a go for liftoff.

We finished our drinks and walked around the city, taking in the sights of the city known for Mardi Gras. I felt almost overwhelmed by the energy in New Orleans, but maybe the drinks in my system had a little something to do with the over stimulation.