Dancing for Daddy
Copyright© 2020 by Lubrican
Chapter 25
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 25 - When Bob's wife divorced him, while he was deployed in the Middle East, there was nothing he could do about it. She took his daughter with her and even changed their names. Her intent was that he never find them again. But he did find her again. He found her in a strip joint. And she wasn't a waitress.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Consensual Reluctant Fiction Incest Father Daughter Interracial Black Male White Female Exhibitionism First Lactation Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Safe Sex
Relationships are always unique, and some are strange. This one was no different. Nothing else happened that day, except Trudy accepted a date to go to dinner with Chuck. She said she’d let him know when her work schedule allowed it. They returned to the living room and interacted with the others. Chastity looked at them with questions in her eyes, but they said nothing.
Chuck, in fact, said nothing to anyone until the next Thursday night, when the study group met again. For whatever reason, John decided to needle Chuck about catching him observing the performance of an almost naked Trudy. He went to the stripper pole, reached with a straight arm, and walked around it, swinging the last ninety degrees.
“You gonna get one of these for your apartment, Chuck?” he teased. All the others knew what had happened, of course. It was too rich a tidbit of gossip to keep to themselves. There were several titters at John’s question.
Chuck stood up and left the room. He came back with a clearly reluctant Trudy being dragged by her hand.
“You all know Trudy,” he said. “She’s my girlfriend, or lady friend, or significant other. We haven’t decided what to call it, yet. So yeah, I might get a pole for my apartment, where we’ll have some privacy and you voyeurs will have to go back to the internet to get a thrill.”
It occurred to him, suddenly, that he hadn’t explained to Trudy what was going on. He turned to her. “John thought he’d be cute and ask me if I was going to get a stripper pole for my apartment.” He turned back to the others. “So here’s the deal. We don’t care what you think. We like each other and we’re dating. If that frosts your cake, keep it to yourself.”
“Hey,” said John, holding up his hands, palms towards Chuck. “I was just kidding around.”
“It’s not kidding if it’s mean,” said Chuck.
“Okay, okay. Chill,” said Cyndi. “We like her, too. Okay?”
“Maybe we can double date sometime,” said Jewel.
“Okay. Crisis resolved,” said Chastity. “Can we get back to studying?”
Chuck left with Trudy, said he was sorry for dragging her in there, and kissed her briefly on the lips.
“I get to do that in public, now,” he said.
“This isn’t public,” said Trudy.
“Practice,” said Chuck, grinning. “We need to practice. A lot.”
She pushed him, but smiled.
“Go on. Study. We can practice later.”
They did practice, after the others left. They engaged in a heavy petting make out session, like teenagers. Trudy offered to jack him off, but he suggested they save it until the next night, after dinner.
Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, Chastity and Bob were in bed. Chastity was naked, and feeding Lance before putting him in the crib that was six feet away. They planned to keep him in their bedroom until he was three or four months old. Brendan and Maeve were already sharing a bedroom, and it seemed too small for three. Trudy was in the other bedroom, where Chima also slept. His crib was fine for now, but someday it would not confine him and he’d need a bed. It had been mentioned that a bigger house might be needed, but not discussed seriously. The alternative was for Trudy to get her own place and she was still trying to establish a credit score that would let her do that. Maybe by the time Chima needed a bed, things might be different, but they’d have to wait and see.
Trudy’s first official date after a dating hiatus of almost twenty years was anticlimactic in some ways. She was nervous until they got to the restaurant and were seated in a booth which was semi-secluded. She could see half a dozen other diners, but none of them paid any attention to her or Chuck. She began to relax and nodded when the waiter offered a Chianti to go with dinner. Trudy had never been one who handled alcohol well, but she thought the food would mitigate her reaction to the wine. When the server brought it, it was served in a glass big enough that it looked like it might hold half a bottle.
The food was good and the wine was good, too. The conversation was completely normal, as each found out information about the other, and talked about the world, in general. The food did mitigate the alcohol’s effect on Trudy, but she was still happy-almost-tipsy when they left. She held Chuck’s arm to stabilize her.
“That was good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What do you want to do, now?”
“I’m horny,” she said. She put her free hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that,” she exclaimed through muffling fingers.
“It’s okay. Are you really? Because I am, too. I’ll admit it. You turn me on.”
“This is me, losing control,” said Trudy. “I told you it would happen.”
“Would you consider losing control at my place?” he asked.
She looked up at him.
“I’m not supposed to lose control until the third or fourth date.”
He stopped and counted on his fingers.
“We had coffee. Then we had sandwiches.”
“That was only one date, and it wasn’t really a date,” said Trudy.
“Hush, I’m making my argument. You’ll have time for rebuttal later. As I said, we had coffee, then we had sandwiches. I’ll admit you giving me cookies wasn’t a date, but you danced for me and that has to qualify. So does the time you ... um...” he touched the front of his pants.
“Blew you?” said Trudy, artlessly. She was secretly delighted that he was going to this much effort to worm his way into her pants. He was asking, not taking, and that pushed her buttons.
“Yeah, that. I mean if that’s not a date, what is? And then there was the relaxation date, where I got dessert and you got some stress relief. We’ve been on lots of dates, even if some of them were a little unconventional.”
“Is it my turn for rebuttal?”
“No, not yet. We’re standing in the street. You need to be able to pace as you present your closing argument. I have a carpet at home that’s perfect for pacing.”
“Ahhh, I see. So we need to go to your house before we can decide what else to do on this date.”
“Exactly!” he beamed.
“Where there’s a bed,” she added.
“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But it’s only for if you get tired and need to rest.”
Trudy held up her arm, bent at the elbow to make a right angle. Her fingers were together and pointed up.
“This is my bullshit meter,” she said. She rotated her arm down swiftly and stopped it when it was perpendicular to the street. She said, “Bam! That is my bullshit meter pegging on the maximum pin.”
“What if I promise not to make a move on you when we get there?” he groaned.
She laughed.
“That wouldn’t be any fun at all.”
“Really? You’ll come?”
“I hope so,” she said, making it clear she was using “come” in a different sense than he was. “We haven’t had dessert yet. I hope we can get some at your house.”
“It’s an apartment,” said Chuck, pedantically. “But I promise you can have dessert.”
“I meant dessert for both of us,” she said.
He got serious.
“I’m really happy with the way things are going, and I don’t want to poke a stick in the spokes, but you’ve never acted like this before.”
“I was never your girlfriend, before,” she said.
Africa had desensitized Trudy to foreplay. The men she’d interacted with sexually in Africa hadn’t been big on foreplay. There’s a joke about how foreplay is defined in the southern states of America: “Get in the truck, bitch.” It’s a joke, but most jokes have a kernel of truth in them. Perhaps the slave trade affected the white owners in ways they didn’t realize. In Africa, instead of “Get in the truck, bitch,” it was “Get on the bed, bitch,” but they were basically the same, in terms of sentiment.
It was for that reason that, once they were in Chuck’s apartment, Trudy was ready to get down to business. Chuck had no idea of what it meant to Trudy to be claimed by a man in terms that were gentle, caring, and loving. She was taken back to when she and Bob had been, so many years before. That caused a fundamental change in her attitude about Chuck and the relationship they were now in. Her reticence was diminished. Her wariness had been pushed into a cubby hole. It was watching, but it wasn’t active.
As soon as the door closed behind them, she was unbuttoning her blouse. She was wearing a nursing bra, but she’d worn special, new panties for him. She didn’t know, when she put them on, if he’d see them this night or not, but he’d see them eventually. Of that she was sure. Her blouse was draped over the back of a chair and she was working on her skirt when Chuck turned from locking the door.
“Wow,” he said. “You must want your dessert very much.”
She paused, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. His voice had sounded surprised, and surprise meant she was doing something wrong.
“Is this too much?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he said. “I was looking forward to helping you get comfortable myself, but I can live with this.”
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