Chapter 7: A Celebration

After a leisurely breakfast, I armed myself with a second cup of coffee, and called Ken to let him know I would take the job. He had obviously left instructions for me to be put through, as his receptionist had him on the line seconds after she answered.

We exchanged pleasantries for a few seconds, and then he asked, "Am I to assume that you've come to a decision or are you calling to ask some more questions?"

"No, no more questions, and yes, I have made a decision."

"You don't seem to be in a hurry to tell me. Is this because I'm not going to like the answer?"

"Well, hopefully you won't find out that you made a bad choice for a long time, but I would be delighted to take you up on your offer. From the sounds of it, it will be a challenge, but I don't like easy things because I get bored too quickly. So, as long as the offer still stands, then I guess I'm your new analytics head."

"Remind me some day to yell at you about the way you like to drag things out, but now that I'm off the hook, I will say thank you, and that as far as I'm concerned, you have made a good choice. We are certainly looking forward to having you as part of the team. And speaking of that, when can you start?"

"Well, since I'm officially unemployed, I don't have to worry about giving anyone notice, but there are a few personal things I'd been planning to take care of while I had some free time. Since it's almost the end of the week, how about if we say a week from Monday, bright and early? That should give me all the time I need to clear up my issues, and I can start with a clear schedule, and a clear mind."

"That certainly works for me. Tell you what, why don't we ease into things and start off with a welcome breakfast. Same restaurant, on the Monday morning at eight? We tend to go there quite a bit, since the office is just around the corner."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I'll see you all on the day, then."

"Great. Thanks again for choosing us, and I'm looking forward to the chance to work together. Have a great weekend, and week, and we'll see you in just over a week's time."

"You too... 'bye."

I hung up feeling really great. My job was nailed down, my professional future was looking really good, my best friend had come through for me in a big way ... life was good. Now all I needed to do was deal with my emotional life, and come to grips with the 'Dani situation.' At least I had bought myself a little time to do that before I needed to devote myself to my new job.

I had no idea what direction to go in, and I had no idea where to turn for help. In the back of my mind, I realized that the best way to settle all the questions was to actually sit down and talk with Dani, but I wasn't sure I could be objective in her presence. She was such a strong personality that I was afraid of being shrouded in fog if I even got within a block of her.

The first time we met she had overwhelmed me, both physically and emotionally. I knew that she hadn't really controlled me physically, except for the short time I was cuffed. In truth, it was simply the dynamic force of her personality, and the manner in which she just assumed that she had full control over me, and had the right to make me do exactly as she desired, with no thought for any of my wants or needs.

As a businesswoman, I was used to having other people do my bidding—I was usually in charge, not them. However, in Dani, I had found the exact opposite, although this time it applied to my sexuality, not my employment. I started to wonder if maybe I needed some kind of outlet like that. If I were the dominant force at work, and in business dealings, maybe I needed someone else to be in charge when it came to sexual matters.

I started thinking back through my past relationships, all of which had been with men. In every case, I hadn't found a lot of satisfaction, and I wondered if it was at least partly because none of them had been dynamic and forceful enough to try to control me. Of course, that also raised the question as to whether or not I would have allowed them the control; in Dani's case it seemed like it hadn't been my choice, although I knew that wasn't true. As Eve had pointed out, I could have easily left at any time; I only needed to go back to the bar, get my clothes, and walk out. Even when I was cuffed, Dani was under orders to let me go as soon as I requested it.

The lingering question that surrounded everything was that of my sexual preference. Had I found my past relationships with men unsatisfying because they hadn't been sufficiently forceful, or was it because I was actually a lesbian? Had I been truly satisfied with Dani because she was so forceful, or was it because she was a woman? The experience of being drilled by her dildo was about the same as getting fucked by a man, except that she certainly lasted a lot longer. Did I enjoy the feel of her breasts against mine as we fucked, or did I prefer the feel of a hairy chest? Was I a cocksucker, or a pussy eater?

In the end, the only thing I was sure of was that I was confused. I also knew that there was no way that I could research the topic on line—this was something that had to be settled by me personally and likely with firsthand experience. That was the tricky part; I had no intentions of trolling for an easy pickup in a bar to test out either a new man, or a new woman. I decided that the best course for the moment was to concentrate on learning what I could for my new job, and to shelve anything else that would obscure that objective.

I suddenly remembered that I owed Wendy a call to let her know what I had decided about the job, so I picked up the phone. When she answered, I reminded her that there was still a hot pussy waiting for her, and that things were now even more urgent because I had taken the job. She let out another one of her war whoops, and said, "Now we definitely have to celebrate. Since you won't let me take you to the gay bar, I know just the place. I'll pick you up at eight. Dress casually, and we'll get something to eat, and then we'll head for the club I'm thinking about."

"I assume you're not going to tell me where we're going?"

"Not on your life, 'cause you'd find some excuse to say no. Wear something like a denim mini and a tank top, just in case you get beer spilled on you."

"Oh, so it's the kind of place where people throw drinks?"

"Well ... it has happened. I got someone's beer dumped on me once, and so I only ever wear clothes that are easy to wash when I go there."

"Well, it sounds like a pretty rowdy place, but I guess I'll have to trust you, especially since it's your dime."

"Damn straight! You just leave it up to me. I'll seeya tonight."

When the time rolled around, I took Wendy's advice and put on a denim miniskirt and a cotton tank top, along with a pair of sneakers. I didn't want to chance ruining a good pair of shoes with somebody's beer, and my sneakers could go into the washing machine as easily as the rest of my clothes. I brushed out my hair, put on a little makeup, and I was ready for whatever she was intending to drag me through.

The doorbell rang, and Wendy breezed in when I opened the door. She was dressed just like me, and we laughed for a moment about our similar tastes. A moment later, Wendy asked what I was wearing under my clothes. I looked at her strangely as I told her that I had on a bra and a pair of panties.

"Leave the panties here. I'd normally tell you to leave the bra as well, but you'd be a little obvious in a tank top."

"Why should I go out with no panties on? This skirt is a little too short for going commando."

"Don't worry about flashing anyone—that happens all the time where we're going. It's part of the entertainment. There's also the possibility that you could lose them; it depends on the games that are being played."

"Games? What the hell kind of place are we going to?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out. You'll see soon enough, and I guarantee that you'll have fun. But lose the panties so we can get going."

"You just want me bare so you can get a thrill out of it. Are you wearing panties?"

In answer, she flipped the front of her skirt up, and I could see a wedge of trimmed pubic hair pointing at her pussy. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly reached under my skirt to pull down my panties. I left them on the coffee table, and we headed for the door. I knew that I'd have to watch how I sat for the rest of the evening.

We started out at a local chicken and rib house, filling up on good food, and a couple of beers. This was the kind of place that had peanut shells all over the floor, and buckets of peanuts for you to snack on while you waited for a table, or your food. The background noise was loud, the place was cheerful, and the wait staff were all very friendly. It was the kind of place where rowdy laughter and loud talk were simply ignored by all and sundry, which was a good thing given the way that Wendy was carrying on.

We took our time eating, just being good friends, sharing past stories and bringing each other up to date on the doings of our other friends, and swapping gossip. The mood was light and lively, and we both quickly put any worries or cares behind us. Instead of coffee, we opted for another beer after supper, although we were careful to make sure that we didn't get any buzz on so that either one of us could still drive.

As we left, Wendy announced that the evening's true entertainment was about to begin. She drove to an area of town I wasn't familiar with, and parked in front of a club of some sort. I could hear loud music all the way out into the parking lot. At the door we were told about the cover charge, which Wendy paid without asking me for any money. We went through another door and found ourselves inside one of the noisiest places I had ever been.

The audience members were all standing up, so that we couldn't see what was happening on the stage. Everyone in the audience was cheering or yelling, and arms were waving everywhere. When I saw how many women were in the audience, for a moment I thought we were in another gay bar. A gap suddenly appeared in the audience, and I caught a flash of the stage for a few seconds. At that point, I realized that Wendy had brought us to a male strip joint; there were at least five men on the stage, all naked. Each one was heavily muscled, obviously fit, and very well-hung.

A minute later I realized why the audience was so excited—three of the men started circulating through the room, stopping to let the women feel their bodies. The touching didn't stop at chests, or arms, or even legs; many of the women were actively grabbing at the men's cocks, and I saw one woman trying to fit one of the long cocks into her mouth. This was not just a strip club; it was basically a free-for-all sex show, with the audience members as active participants.

I didn't really know if I wanted to be here, but Wendy grabbed my arm and dragged me to the middle of the room, in search of a table. Amazingly enough, she found one not too far from the stage and she steered me toward one of the chairs. A waitress quickly appeared, and Wendy ordered a round of beers. She looked over at me, and yelled over the noise, "Isn't this wild?"

I nodded back at her, not wanting to argue the point, and decided to try and have a good time, mainly to avoid disappointing Wendy. I saw many women flashing the dancers, and I realized one of the reasons why Wendy wanted me to go without panties. As I looked around the room, one of the dancers cruised toward me, and in the next moment his cock was waving in my face. I felt Wendy leaning into me and heard her yelling, "Wouldn't you like to take that home?" She grabbed one of my hands and put it on his cock before I could stop her, although I did my best to not squeeze it, and tried to remove my hand as soon as I could.

I grinned at her to let her know that I wasn't offended, and she started watching one of the other dancers, who had appeared beside her. I watched, a little stunned, as she started giving the guy a handjob while he danced beside her. Three other women had their hands on his chest and his legs, and another woman was trying to displace Wendy from his cock. After a moment she decided to share, and turned to grab her beer, nearly draining half of it in one gulp.

Over the next hour, Wendy got more and more involved in groping the dancers, and I saw her lick at least two of their cocks for a few moments. She was also drinking quite heavily, and I was beginning to think that I should make sure I stayed fairly sober, since it looked like I might have to drive home. I did my best to keep an eye on her, which was a little difficult as she kept plunging into the crowd, trying to follow whichever naked man was in the audience at the time.

When the dancers took a bit of a break, she finally returned to our table, looking sweaty and disheveled, but with an idiotic grin plastered on her face. About ten minutes later, Wendy got up to go to the washroom to deal with the extra beer she had been drinking, and I stayed to hang on to the table. As I looked around the room, I felt a hand on my thigh, just below the hem of my skirt. I turned my head to the left, and looked into a pair of bright blue eyes and a head full of blonde hair.

The woman leaned into my ear and said, "It looks like your friend is having a really good time, but you don't seem to be enjoying yourself very much." The hand on my thigh gave a little squeeze, and slid a bit further up my leg, so it was now actually under the hem of my skirt. I had a sudden flashback to my first meeting with Dani.

I turned my head to put my mouth near her ear. "Well, it was her idea to come here. I didn't know what we were getting into."

The blonde brought her mouth to my ear, close enough that I could feel her breath. Her hand moved again, far enough that her little finger would soon find out that I was bare, in more ways than one. "Is there some place else you might rather go?"

I almost kissed her ear when I moved in, but asked, "Is there some place quieter that you could suggest?" Her hand stayed still, but her little finger made the final move and slid over my bare slit, gently sliding up and down along part of its length. I moaned softly into her ear before I moved away. My legs moved apart slightly, almost involuntarily, and her hand did move this time, putting her little finger firmly onto my labia, teasing them apart in search of my clit. Her fingernail started a slow scrape over the tip of my clit, and my head went back in response to the sensation, my eyelids fluttering.

This time she actually licked my ear before she quietly said, "Oh, you little slut. You're loving this. We could have so much fun together. Would you like to come home with me, and I can show you what my tongue can do? I've got some nice toys as well."

I kissed her ear, but told her, "I can't leave my friend. I'm afraid she's too drunk to drive." The finger on my clit moved a little faster, and I could tell that she was trying to convince me to dump Wendy. I wondered if she'd go as far as making me come while we sat there.

Just then, Wendy reappeared, dropping heavily into her seat. She looked at me rather hazily, and I asked her what she had been doing. She grinned crazily for a moment, then shouted, "I was doing shots with a couple of women over there," an arm waved vaguely to the other side of the room, "and I think I sucked one of the dicks. My mouth tastes like come."

"I think you're drunk, way too drunk to drive." That finger never stopped working on my clit, but I was trying to ignore it, waiting to see what Wendy wanted to do.

"I think you're right. I think you better drive."

"How many shots did you drink?"

"Three I think, maybe four."

"Then I think we should probably get you home, 'cause you're likely to pass out, and you don't want to do that here." I put my hand over the one on my thigh, and leaned into the blonde's ear once more. "I've got to look after my friend. I'm sorry, really, because it might have been fun to get together."

She turned back to me, and said, "Don't count it out just yet. I can follow you to your friend's place, and then we can go to mine ... or to yours." That talented little finger of hers scraped its fingernail across my clit again, then the pad of the finger rubbed a few circles around it.

I felt my pussy take over the decision making, and said "Okay, we can do that." I gave her Wendy's address in case we got separated in traffic, and I looked across the table at Wendy. By this time, she was slumped down on her arms, so I stood up and grabbed her purse, then moved around her and got an arm around her, helping her up. The three of us managed to make it back out to the parking lot, and I pretty much poured Wendy into her car.

When we reached Wendy's apartment, we managed to get her out of the car and into the elevator without any mishap. In her apartment, I helped her to the bedroom, and took her shoes off, then laid her on her side and covered her with a blanket.

In the elevator on the way back down, I turned to my new companion and said, "Thanks for helping me with Wendy, uh ... I didn't get your name."