Page 52 of A Little Kissing Between Friends

Quickly, I had a mental flash of me doing the same thing to her just days prior before I touched her and kissed her in her foyer. My breath hitched in my throat at the memory and I snatched away from her, turning around to clean the image from my brain and get myself together. Every bit of eight minutes, the song was still going, and I still had a job to do, so I bent at the waist and sat in her lap. Grinding on her while I faced the opposite wall was safe. I could do that.

Everything was fine.

But then she brought her hands to my ass, kneading each cheek, spreading them, exposing me to her, even with my thong on, and suddenly, everything was not fine.

And because the unexpected feel of fingers on the softest part of my body felt so fucking amazing after a week of us keeping our hands to ourselves, I moaned.

I couldn’t help it; it just slipped out. I tried to keep it low, but Poppa had ears like a fucking hound because as soon as it happened, I knew she’d heard it. It was like something switched for her. She went from hesitantly touching me as if she couldn’t help herself, to being very intentional with each brush of her fingers.

The same fingers that then followed the trail of my thong from the top of my ass down between my cheeks, where she hooked the fabric with one knuckle and used the pad of a second finger to rub at my already damp lips.

Gasping, I looked back at her over my shoulder.

“No touching,” I moaned, knowing that the pure lust in my voice was likely in direct contrast to the words I’d spoken, but also knowing they needed to be said. Poppa knew the rules. Sanity was a hands-off facility; patrons were encouraged to look as much as they wanted but refrain from putting their hands on any member of the staff, be they dancer, server, bartender, etc.

She knew just like I knew, and yet...when she bit her lip and lifted those big, beautiful, sleepy brown eyes up to me, I realized in that moment that I was going to let her do whatever she wanted to do to me, consequences be damned.

“I just wanna touch you, Jucee. Please. Just the tip of my finger, I promise. That’s it.”

I’d fucked enough men in my life to know good and well that it was never just the tip, but still, I nodded, giving Poppa the permission to slide a single digit inside of me. Gripping one cheek, she used her knees to spread my legs further apart and rubbed her middle finger through my wetness before pushing it inside of me. Another moan fell from my lips and I turned my head forward.

“Uh uhn,” she grumbled. “Face me.”

And of course I did, my heart stuttering and pussy fluttering as I did so. How could I say no when she’d commanded me in that lust-addled voice? I was incapable.

We met eyes and she raised an eyebrow. “Sit down.”

Immediately, I lowered my ass, sitting on her lap, swallowing her finger, eyes glued to hers the entire time.

“You want another finger?”

I did. Of course I did.

“Up,” she commanded once I gave her a nod. She added her index finger and instructed me to sit back down. But I couldn’t just sit, I needed to ride, so I did.

There were so many rules being broken, but I’d deal with that another day. Biting my lip so hard I was surprised I didn’t taste blood, I rode Poppa’s hand painstakingly slowly while maintaining eye contact with her. I don’t know how we’d ended up back in this place we’d been trying to pretend we’d never been, but now that we were here, I was going to milk it for all it was worth. I wanted more, but I didn’t know how that was possible in this room with an unlocked door and hundreds of people on the other side.

“Jucee.”

“Hmm?”

I didn’t stop moving, but the sound of my name on her voice when I was heating up quick, fast, and in a hurry had me elevated.

“I have something else you can ride, if you want it.”

And then my breath hitched again and my movements stuttered for a moment because I knew exactly what she was talking about, and sweet baby Jesus in a manger did I want it. I wanted it so badly I was already whimpering from the idea of being filled when I nodded.

“I want it,” I whispered. The music was loud and I wasn’t even sure that words had actually left my mouth, but her eyes were on me, and the way she dipped her chin in response let me know she’d received the message loud and clear.

Pushing me up just a little, she pulled her fingers free from me and unbuttoned her jeans, shimmying them down her hips until her boxer briefs were completely exposed. Twisting, I watched in fascinated anticipation as she reached into the material against her thigh and pulled a six-inch strap-on from a hidden pocket sewn into the leg of her briefs. Within moments, she had clicked the device into the mechanism that sat low on her underwear harness and was spitting into her hand and rubbing the saliva over the tip and down the shaft of the strap.

She reached for me with her free hand, palming my ass before tugging me backward by the strap of my thong. I bit my lip the moment I felt its tip breach me.

“Sit on it,” Poppa commanded once again, releasing my thong and settling her palm on the small of my back. There was no pressure from her hand as I slowly lowered myself into her lap, moaning as I stretched to accommodate the silicone.

Once I was fully seated, I blew out a breath and dropped my head forward.

“Juleesa, gahdamn. You look so fuckin’ sexy.”