Anonymous Encounters(53)

My mom glanced over.

"Oh Cleo, you're so funny," she said, snatching the dress out of my  hands. "The Donkey Club is a gentlemen's club honey, that dress is  totally wrong."

I was surprised. What was wrong with the blue number?

"Okay Ma, well should I go nicer and worse? I have no idea what would be  appropriate," I said. And we pawed through my whole closet before  settling on an outfit. It was the weirdest thing. My mom urged me to  wear my sexiest, slinkiest lingerie, a tiny hot pink set where the lace  of my bra barely covered my nipples, the dusky outline of my areola  visible underneath. But the clothes I wore over them  –  they were  ridiculously countrified. I wore a tiny crop top layered underneath  shortie overalls showing off a glimpse of midriff, my legs exposed.  Frankly, I was embarrassed to be going into New York City dressed like  this. But what the hell  –  I was happy just to spend time with my mom. So  we got into a black car and zoomed off to the City, dusk descending  around us, the night slowly dimming, our senses enhanced.

And we pulled up at the curb of a totally anonymous building.

"Are you sure this is a gentlemen's club?" I asked dubiously, getting  out. Absolutely nothing about the establishment gave any indication of  what went on inside. The windows were blacked out and there was the dim  thumping of music, but that could have been the bar across the street.  Only a neon outline of a donkey lit up the sky, indicating that we were  at the right place.

"Oh please baby, of course this is the right place," sang my mom. "I've been here a million times. Come on, let's go."

And when we stepped into the Donkey Club that night I could see why my  mom had suggested the overalls. The place was fucking ridiculous. This  wasn't a gentlemen's club, this was a countrified trailer-park nickel  and dime strip tease. A long, low bar took up half the room with signs  overhead flashing Corona, Coors, your choice of cheap beer. Peanut  shells littered the floor, sawdust coming up in fumes, and the tables  didn't look so clean either, grimy and smeared with unidentifiable  sticky substances.

But what caught my attention were the three poles in the center of the  room, girls gyrating under the spotlights, letting it all go in time to  the thump of the music. The sheer explicitness of their moves, the  uninhibited dancing, took my breath away. One girl was bent over,  totally nude, her hands on the ground, cunny pressed backwards against  the gleaming golden pole. And as the crowd roared, she humped her butt  up and down, rubbing her snatch against the metal, smiling and winking  at the audience.

But it wasn't over yet. Slowly the brunette pulled her vag away, the  pole now smeared with her pussy juice, the golden color dimmed with  creamy white. And the chickie hopped around so that she was face-forward  on her knees, caressing the rigid metal as she swiped at it with her  tongue, licking up that delicious nectar. Oh yeah, she was tasting her  honey, lasciviously licking her lips as she sucked up pussy cream.

But the woman next to her was even more daring. I watched with shocked  eyes as she danced to the edge of the stage, pulling her g-string to the  side, and let a man nuzzle between her legs. Oh yeah, I was sure he'd  licked her there, tasted that little clit judging from the shiver than  ran through her body, the half-closed eyes, the wetness smeared on her  thighs. And the woman let out a little half-scream of ecstasy before  snapping her thong back in place, dancing over to another crowd of men,  shimmying seductively before doing a full squat, the material hiding  nothing, pussy lips gleaming, bisected only by the tiniest string of  fabric.         

     



 

Breathing hard, I tried to look nonchalant, like I wasn't a total newbie, but my nervousness was overwhelming.

"Mom, are you sure this is the right place?" I whispered again, poking  her in the ribs, eyes darting right and left. "Is this what happens at  gentlemen's bars?"

My mom just tittered, patting my hand gently.

"Of course this is the right place, baby," she purred. "You've just  never seen the seedier side of things, girls who really know how to  hustle. Jimmy, over here!" she called, waving one hand.

And a man came up to us, gushing.

"Lorena, you look fantastic. We've missed you!" he exclaimed. "It's been a sad three years without you here at the Donkey Club."

Wait a minute, my mom had worked here just three years ago?

"Hi Jimmy," she purred, taking off her coat. "I've missed you guys too,  but I brought something  …  err, someone to make up for my absence," she  said. "This is my daughter Cleo."

Jimmy gaped, looking at me.

"Lorena!" he exclaimed. "You have a daughter who's eighteen? You are so young, so beautiful, I never guessed you had children."

My mom smirked. "I had my baby early, but you know us Latinas," she  said. "We are beaooo-tee-ful forever. Think Sofia Vergara. You know that  bitch has an adult son? Oh yeah and she's still got that va-va-voom."

"That's definitely true," murmured Jimmy appreciatively, practically  drooling at my mom's sassy curves. "Ladies, let me show you to our VIP  area. Can I take your coat?" he said, courteously extending an arm.

At this point, I was totally intimidated, not sure what came next. It  felt so wrong in the seedy joint, the fact that a ton of horny dudes  were already looking me up and down like a tasty piece of candy. But I  didn't know what else to do, trapped like a rabbit. So I just went with  the flow.

"Yes please," I said loudly, trying not to show my nervousness. "Thanks, I'll pick it up from the coat check when we leave."

But my mom went one step further.

"Cleo honey, take off your clothes," she commanded. "Just leave your lingerie on."

I gawped, looking at her with shock, but my mom paid me no mind. In  fact, she was following her own instructions  –  she began disrobing,  slipping her shorts and t-shirt off to reveal a purple bra and g-string  underneath.

"Ma!" I gasped. "What are you doing?" I mean, my mom looked fantastic, don't get me wrong, but what the fuck?

"Cleo honey," purred my mom, "you'll see. Come on," she commanded, sashaying to the VIP area.

I trembled. The Donkey Club was filled with rednecks, dudes who looked  like they worked on farms, which was pretty incredible given that we  were in the middle of Manhattan. Some were literally chewing stalks of  hay, and I didn't want to get undressed in front of them but I felt like  I had no choice. Slowly, I eased off my overalls and shrugged out of  the crop top, leaving nothing but my lingerie and a pair of stilettos.  On trembling legs, I followed my mom, my ass swaying and boobs bouncing.

It was so uncomfortable walking through the crowded tables filled with  men, not a few letting out cat-calls, hooting at us as we passed.

"There ya go, little girl," cawed one. "Lookin' fresh, lookin' juicy."

Another one went so far as to grope my ass as I snuck by, taking the opportunity to give my peach a solid smack.

"Ripe and plump, just like we like ‘em," he cackled. And despite myself,  I shivered a bit inside, my nips tingling as my cunny moistened. Could  it really be happening? Were these disgusting guys, this dirty place,  turning me on?

But I didn't get a chance to think about it because as we neared a table  filled with men, my mom pinched my ass cheek, making me jump.

"Mom, what the?" I gasped. "What was that for?"

But Lorena ignored me, instead turning to two men sitting in the booth.

"Robert, Lester," she purred to two seedy-looking guys. "How are you? Long time no see."

The two men looked up, oily and dressed in cheap suits.

"Well, well, what have we here?" growled the greasier of the two. "Our prodigal girl returns."         

     



 

"Yeah," grunted the other. "Where the fuck you been?"

"Oh here and there," replied Lorena airily, cocking a hip to the side.  "You know I wanted to better my situation, and I got a housekeeping job  with Drake Markham in Long Island."

"The Drake Markham?" remarked the first dude, cocking an eyebrow. "The owner of the New York Jets?"

"Yep, that one," smirked Lorena. "It was the best decision I ever made.  Lonely older man, hot housekeeper? Check out my ring, boys," she said,  extending her left hand.

And both men's eyebrows almost popped off their foreheads, the ten carat  diamond sparkling madly even in the low light of the club. I'd seen  that diamond before  –  one night, when spying on my stepdad, I'd watched  amazed as he inserted it into Lorena's cunt, stirring it a bit before  pulling it out dripping wetly, sucking it, growling with pleasure.

"Tastes like nasty-ass woman," he'd rumbled, eyeing my mom's bod lasciviously.

And Lorena hadn't let him down. Twisting sinuously, she'd parted her  legs, revealing that pink slit, looking up at him through half-lidded  eyes.