“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.
“Fuck me,” she breathed, “fuck me good with that ring.”
And of course, my step-dad had gone at it like an alpha male, stuffing the diamond back in her before burying himself to the balls in my mom’s ass, both of them panting and heaving like dogs gone wild. But that had been in the good ole days. I hadn’t seen something nasty and hot happen between them in ages now, and it wouldn’t happen anymore, not with me in Daddy’s bed.
But now the gem had reappeared, gleaming on my mom’s hand, giving no hint as to where it’d previously been.
“That’s a fuckin’ whopper alright,” marveled Lester. “Good for you.” Actually, come to think of it, the dude wasn’t terrible looking. Seedy, with a wifebeater under his pin-striped suit, but overall he was well-built with nice features.
“We always knew you were sharp,” added the second. “Glad you found a sugar-daddy.” Actually this guy wasn’t terrible looking either. I was just turned off by the guys’ overall presentation as Jersey guidos with slicked back hair and cheesy accents.
Besides this whole interchange was eye-opening. How did Lorena know these people? Why were we even here? But before I could butt in, my mom answered my questions.
“Lester,” said Lorena abruptly. “I’m here because I want to repay my debts. I left the Donkey Club hanging, but I don’t forget people who were good to me,” she said smoothly.
“Oh yeah, how?” said Les. For the first time, his gaze slid over to me appraisingly, like I was a piece of meat. “This your offering?” he grunted, nodding my way. I shrank back a bit, intimidated by the way his eyes assessed my curves.
“Yes indeed,” said my mom. “Cleo, come here.”
Nervously, I teetered over to the group. I’d been hiding in the back hoping no one would notice me, halfway behind a velvet drape.
“This is Cleo,” she said. “Turned eighteen two weeks ago, dances like a ballerina. Perfect material for the Donkey Club if you ask me,” she said conspiratorially.
I colored. I couldn’t dance at all, I had two left feet and had been a wallflower at my high school prom, literally sitting the entire night on the bleachers watching everyone else get jiggy. Why was my mom singing my praises?
But the guys didn’t say anything, merely looking me over, taking a swig of their beers.
“Boys, she’s a natural,” promised my mom. “Just give her a try, you’ll enjoy it,” she said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.