Chapter 6

My Voyage of Self-Discovery Ends

The alleyway we parked in was actually far more spacious than I ever imagined. The single-lane drive was opened into a fairly large parking lot, with brick or concrete- walled buildings on three sides. There were some dank smells about, and the loud of dripping water somewhere, a steady stream of who knows what. Heavy debris and broken or discarded furniture was littered everywhere, and there were some stacks and piles that appeared to be organized lumps of trash.

The soft breeze that had been wafting along the outside became a lot stronger, and I had to hold my skirt to keep it controlled. We had wound up parked near the end farthest away, and at the end of the man-made canyon, forcing the air to flow upwards. It was powerful enough that any skirt of dress would fly high, if proper attention was not paid. I was glad that I was wearing panties, even if it was just a thong and a very tiny sheer patch covering my petals.

My heels crackled on the broken pavement as Ron escorted me out of the car, and around to the entrance of a nondescript door. There was a muffled heavy beat coming from it, and it looked all the world like some club only those “In-the-know” would find, let alone enter. Ron knocked and then the door opened outward, where the loud and heavy beat suddenly escaped, almost blasting my ears. The air smelled like pot and perhaps worse. He flashed a $20 bill and was admitted, leading me inside. The door was slammed shut by a very large, very obese bouncer, whose skin was even darker than Ron’s, as if that were possible, and he had gold bling hanging from his neck, and large and gaudy gold rings on most of his fingers. His smile even had a gold tooth in it. His attire was simple athletic pants and a grey tank-top, covered by a matching over-size nylon athletic jacket.

The walls inside were painted black, with red and gold lights illuminating the end of the hallway, and the first room. Well, the main room. The hallway had doors on one side, and it seemed that there were sounds coming from a few of them. These were noises I could readily recognize, as I had made them myself. Loud, passionate moans from feminine voices, and the harsh grunting of a male rutting leaked through the thin wood, and I was sure, the equally thin walls. Breaking out into the main room, there was a dark wood paneling on the walls, with some red fake leather booths, and some high-top tables. A dark wooden bar was laid along the left side, one stocked fairly well, but with a bartender who was harried. He was thin, slightly built, and he could be heard replying to questions. His accent marked him as a foreigner, maybe from Jamaica, or even Haiti. I wasn’t sure.

As Ron paused to take in the surroundings and who was who, I leaned forward into him, and asked for the powder room, as I needed to freshen up, and clean myself up. Ron’s last sexual use of me had left me in need of some hygiene. Not that I would want to necessarily leave his spunk wasted, but I was a mess of sorts down below. He showed me where to look, and I left his arm, my heels making my hips sway in a sensual, strutting tease, the short red satin dress flirting left and right with the multiple pairs of eyes on my ass. I took in the patrons, and noted I was nearly the only white woman there. One I saw was serving drinks, in a very barely-there uniform, another was obviously arm-candy for this black man who was dressed in a very dashing white suit, and yet a third was bobbing her head up and down on this really tall guy’s lap. I snorted as I saw her at work, wondering if she could deep throat as I could. Women could be catty about the strangest things, at times, and for me, my ability to purse my lips around the base of Ron’s cock and smear my lipstick on him was a great source of pride for me. I was the reigning blowjob queen, just ask me!

Making my way into the mostly clean restroom, I took care of my business, and cleaned myself up. I had to use several passes at cleaning my crotch, as Ron’s cum had smeared well onto my inner thighs. My thong was a lacey mess, so I took it off and rinsed it out with hot water. I know warm is what was called for when washing it, but I needed it clean, and hopefully dry. In the middle of all this, Miss BJ came in, and wedged her way into the sink area, spitting out the remnants of her lover’s jism. I couldn’t resist myself.

“That bad, huh?”

She cupped her hand to slurp some water, swishing it around and spitting it out before replying. “I can’t stand the taste, it is like bitter sea water to me.” And she slurped in more water for her oral ablutions.

I smiled in a self-satisfied grin. “Not if you swallow, I would think.” I was setting the hook.

She just looked at me. “I dunno. There was a lot of it.” She was nearly admitting defeat.

“Not if you deep throat him.” I cheerily concluded, and the look on her face said volumes. Obviously, she couldn’t, or didn’t know how to do it. Having my catty moment of victory, I left her to her own cleaning, and made my way out, refreshed, and even a bit bolder, having stroked my own ego.

Coming out, Ron was nowhere to be seen. I frowned thoughtfully, and more carefully looked around. Then I saw him, seated in a booth and in a conversation with some other men. All of them were dressed more or less as he was, though one must’ve been a new arrival, as he had his own fresh white meat on his arm, which made the booth full. I decided it was safe enough to be on my own in the main room, and strutted my way past him, trailing along his shoulder as I did so. He looked and gave me a nod of acknowledgement and then went back to his conversation. I had been left to my own devices.

I was simply leaning on a high-top with my arms up, gently kicking my toe into the red carpet, and looking around, people watching. Miss BJ came back out, and looked much happier, and we made eye contact, exchanging soft nods as she went back to her host. Boyfriend? Lover? John? Bull? It made me wonder about the others, and their relationships. Including my own, when I felt a hand caress my butt, sliding down the silky, shiny soft satin, until the material ran out, and his hand then reached up, cupping my bare rear. Turning, I saw a younger man, also black, dressed in a grey hoodie and red basketball shorts, with open-laced white basketball shoes.

“Sup?” He asked, his voice almost menacing. I could see a tattoo on his neck. I was a bit nervous around him.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah. You look lonely, an’ I’s needs a bitch.”

I looked at him incredulously. “Excuse me?” I then looked for Ron, who had moved to another booth, farther away. He was ignorant of my new acquaintance.

“You lookin’ fin’ girl. An’ word is you kin’ suck better’n a twn’y dolla’ ho.”

I shot a fast glance at Miss BJ. She merely gave me a wiggly-fingered wave, a big Cheshire smile, and then went back to her table, and her man. Looking back, I was about to speak, when I found my mouth running into his lips, and his tongue erupted past my own lipstick-coated lips, his voice growling as he started a lewd French kiss.

I squealed, and I started to wave my arms about, but my protest was cut short as his free hand grasped my upper arm and turned me to face him, his pull mashing me to him, one hand pulling hard at my butt, and the other on my arm, all the while his tongue was raping my mouth. My tongue began to respond, and started to wrestle with his, and somehow, I mewed softly. The hand on my arm dropped to my other cheek under my skirt, and he pulled me up to my tiptoes, as my hands were on his chest. The kiss was lewd, it was wrong, it was lascivious, but it was oh so hot!

The kiss broke, and I had to take a deep breath to collect myself, looking at him as I shook the daze from my head. People underestimate the power of a deep, hot kiss, but this young man was an expert. He did look young, in fact, I was even unsure of his age. He then dove back to my lips, and this time it was easier, his tongue prying my lips apart as I kissed him back, again my soft voice mewing. I had a thought about Ron, and what would he think? But the kiss went on, and while I didn’t embrace him, my arms simply laid on his as he held me tightly, long, strong fingers kneading my butt.

Again, the kiss broke, and this time I had the presence of mind to ask him who he was.

“I’s Jerome.” He replied. “But mos’ jes’ call me Rabbit.”

“Rabbit? That’s an unusual name.” I followed with, still face to face with him.

“It’s ‘cuz I’m quick!” he grinned, and then his lips were on mine again, the kiss lead with his tongue, and again prying my jaw open to take him. My tongue still responded, and we shared saliva, my eyes fluttering closed. We seemed to rock back and forth, slowly, taking small steps, until I felt my back hard against the wall. I had to admit, he was quickly taking over, but my back to the wall caught my attention and I broke the kiss.

I looked past Rabbit, actually having to lean aside a bit, to see past the man, only to not see Ron anywhere. Not at the two tables he had occupied, not at the bar. There were other rooms deeper in the club, however, so I was certain he had simply gone further inside, to conduct whatever business it was that he had. True to his name, Rabbit was moving quickly, and I felt his hand slide around my waist to my hips, and he kissed me again. This time, I let him, almost eagerly. I could not believe how aroused I was getting, and the adrenaline coursing through my body was making my nipples grow hard as a rock, two pin-points through the top of my dress, the shiny satin giving an accent to them.

Rabbit’s next move was smooth, and brought me back to him. He started to dry-hump me, and I could feel his growing bulge. How big was he? What about his girth? I had no idea, but because his shorts were nylon, they hid very little, and my lace panties protected me even less. My hands reached up to his shoulders, and I started to ward him off. “No ... Don’t...” I managed to breathe out.

He shut my protest by kissing me again, his hips holding me against his, as we gently banged crotches. His feel snaked between mine, and made my knees slide wider apart, and then I felt the real power of a man who would not take no for an answer. The kiss was powerful, and every bit as lewd as before, long and lustful, and I returned it. During all of this kissing, his hips bumped into me harder, with the new-found access, and my pearl was getting exposed as it grew from under its protective hood. His pace was quick, firm, and unyielding. I started to feel the real pleasures of being stimulated, each dry thrust sending new waves of lustful need into me.

The kiss broke, and he looked down at my me, my blue upturned eyes were held by his, and the sheer force of his will broke me. My arms fell from his, hanging limply from my shoulders as I lost all resistance. I was rocking my hips back at him, as he was at me, my voice uttering soft mews of enjoyment. I started to speak in a breathy, wanton need.

God how I wanted him inside me, and right there and then. “Rabbit, please fu-” but my words got harshly cut off, and Rabbit was grabbed from the side, nearly tripping over my spread and outstretched leg. I gasped as I followed the action.

It was the bouncer.

“Not here! Nu-uhn! You don’ do that shit in here, you been tol’!” the bouncer barked. “I ain’t getting’ no vice raid ‘cuz o’ you, boy!” he snarled. “Take that shit outside if you wants, but not here!” his voice bellowed.

Of course, since he was yelling, the whole place was looking at the three of us. Rabbit held in the bouncer’s thick vice of a finger grip, Rabbit being yanked about like a twelve-year old, and me, leaning against the wall, my heels and knees widely splayed, and my eyes lustfully dazed.

Rabbit was indeed living up to his name, because quick as lightning he had recovered and was grabbing my hand, pulling me after him, and down the hallway I had entered through. My heels stuttered as quickly as four-inch stilettos can, my skirt flying behind me as I was pulled out of the room, and down the hall, and then out the front door. Before I realized it, I was alone with Rabbit, back in the alley, outside the club.