Chapter Fourteen

Dance for You

I might’ve been dumb enough to sleep with Poppa, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be easy to fall back into the easy camaraderie of our friendship in the aftermath. In fact, I’d fully expected it to be pure torture. Even if we somehow managed to keep things from being physically awkward, I knew that mentally I’d be a wreck. I figured that my newfound knowledge of the way her pussy felt and tasted would be too distracting for me to just “get back to normal.” I thought that would be the hardest part.

Fun fact: it was even worse than I could’ve imagined.

It never really occurred to me how much time me and Poppa spent together on a daily basis. Not until I was wishing for some space between us. I needed reprieve from the constant bombarding of emotions I suffered every single time she dropped a kiss onto my temple or slung an arm around my shoulder. All I was asking for was twenty-four hours without taking into consideration that we spent an average of nine hours a day in each other’s presence. Maybe not every single day, but at least four days out of the week. And since I’d assured her that our friendship was still intact after our little...incidents, it seemed like she wanted to spend even more time together being friendly as fuck.

I hated to say it, but it was driving me crazy.

I needed to breathe and she was suffocating me. The thing is, I couldn’t even be angry with her because she just wanted to make sure we hadn’t ruined our friendship while wanting something beyond it, but dammit, I felt so cloistered! I needed space to get my mind right, but if I asked for some breathing room, Poppa would think the worst and try to double down on “quality time.” On top of that was the underlying threat of the investors trying to buy Sanity from under Mal. The threat of losing my safe space and the stress from my Poppa overdoing it was too much for me.

She’d left me no choice but to lie. Which was how I ended up at work on a Thursday. Poppa had wanted me to come over and watch some show with her, but I begged off, telling her that I had to help Mercedes with something. In reality, I was calling Mal and asking if I could come in to work. I needed the distraction, and the night crowd at Sanity would give me exactly that. I loved my day-timers, but it was a completely different vibe after nine. The place wasn’t packed to the rafters, so it wasn’t quite like a Friday night, but it definitely could hold its own. The crowd near the stage grew when my name was announced, and the love I received once my dance was over was more than sufficient.

Emerging from the back, I worked the room, the high from my dance relaxing me better than any drug could have. As I was heading to the back of the main floor where the paid sections were at, a woman stepped into my path with an earnest expression on her face. Caramel-skinned with a halo of kinky coils, she barely reached my chin.

“Omigosh, Jucee,” she breathed. “I love you!”

Grinning, I dipped my head. “Thank you, gorgeous.”

Turning, she pointed toward the elevated section. “Today is my baby sister’s twenty-first birthday, and I want to buy her a lap dance to celebrate.”

“Aww,” I cooed. My heartstrings were sufficiently tugged. What better way to help someone bring in a new year of life than with ass shaking in their face? “That’s so sweet. Let’s go see baby sis.”

I followed the woman up the steps to a cluster of about ten women who had pushed two tables together that were topped with two platters of wings, sides, and assorted drinks. Most of the women were in good spirits, immediately telling me how much they had enjoyed my set, but the one who I’d come to see was noticeably silent. There was no need for the eager woman to point her sister out, because it was quite clear which one she was. Sitting at one end of the joined tables with birthday balloons tied to her chair and wearing a sash that announced it was her birthday, a baby butch with a matching head of coils slicked up into an afro puff and her hairline tapered at her temples, wearing a bowtie, looked visibly uncomfortable the closer I came toward her. The other women began cheering as I approached her, but the way her fingers tightened on the table edge brought the mama out of me.

“Hey, birthday boo,” I said, bending at the waist to speak directly into her ear.

Her eyes flicked from my face, down to my titties that were strategically busting out of my rhinestone triangle bikini top, and then over to her sister before landing back on my titties.

“Uh...hey.”

“Happy birthday.”

Prying her eyes from my chest, she quickly glanced at my face as she said, “Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yea—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

Tilting my head to the side, I caught her eyes. “Your sister wants me to give you a lap dance, but something tells me you don’t want that.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just shot a quick glance over at her sister as she sucked her teeth.

“I told her not to.”

Just as I’d suspected. “Okay. It’s your birthday, what do you want?” When her eyes dropped down to my glittering titties again, I laughed. “You want a hug?”

Her grin was slow to spread from the corners of her lips, but once she decided to let it fly, it lit up her entire face. When a sure nod followed, I spread my arms open and leaned forward. As I wrapped my arms around her neck, she pressed her face right into the valley of my chest. I squeezed my upper arms together and shimmied my shoulders. Her laugh was so sweet that it warmed my heart. It was amazing how a little motorboating could lift your spirits. After she took a deep breath, we separated.

“When you’re feeling up to it,” I spoke into her ear, “come back and see me and I’ll give you that birthday lap dance.”

Ducking her head, she nodded, and I straightened and left the section without even looking at her sister. Any words that left my mouth might be a lecture, and I wasn’t on that type of time. Stepping down from the elevated section, I locked eyes with Cody in an armchair less than ten feet from the steps. His face immediately lit up, but panic seized me when I saw who sat next to him. Poppa’s eyes were zeroed in on my face, but I couldn’t read her expression from so far away. Or maybe it was because I was actively avoiding meeting her eyes.

Fuck on a stick, why did I feel guilty? I hadn’t really done anything wrong.

Except for bailing on hanging out with her tonight.

And lying about the reason.

And not telling her that I was coming to work.

But other than that...

“Hey, y’all!” I chirped, hugging them both. Cody returned my embrace with the same eagerness as he always did, but Poppa’s hug was a little dry. Preferring not to make a big deal and call attention to it, I held my tongue and just moved to stand between their chairs, not missing the way Cody’s left eyebrow quirked as he eyed us.

“What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you on a Thursday before.”

Poppa snorted at Cody’s question, but Cody just laughed her off.

“Yeah, yeah. You already knew. Whatever, man. I wasn’t expecting to see her.”

Offering a shrug that was anything but nonchalant, Poppa relaxed further into her seat. “Shiiid, me either.”

Oh.She was giving mad attitude and practically ignoring me. Yeah, it was time for me to move around, because one thing I didn’t do was drama at work. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I took a step back.

“Aight, I’ll holla at y’all later.”

I was a half-step away when Cody sat forward and wrapped his hand around my wrist. Looking over my shoulder, I glanced back at him.

“What’s up?”

He gave me a curious look, like he was trying to figure something out, before sliding his gaze over to his sister, whose attention was now on the screen of her cellphone. When he looked back at me, there was a sly look in his eyes that let me know he was up to no good. And because of that look, I knew what he was going to say before he even parted his brown lips and said it.

“Can I get a lap dance?”

That calculating, observant bastard. I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so pissed. He released my wrist, and I twisted around so that I was fully facing them again. I looked from his expectant face over to Poppa, who still hadn’t looked up from her phone, despite the fact that she’d undoubtedly heard her baby brother’s request. While I was inclined to give her that same energy back, Cody had other plans. With one hand still on my wrist and a shit-eating grin all over his face, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a roll of money. He released me briefly and peeled off a handful of bills before sliding the $500 into the garter on my thigh, then he grabbed me again and leaned toward his sister. It was as if she’d suddenly lost her peripheral vision, because she didn’t even move until he slapped the side of her knee.

“Say, Cyn.”

With no way to continue pretending she didn’t hear him, Cyn lifted her eyes as slowly as possible from her phone to her brother, telling us that she didn’t appreciate the annoyance of his touch without saying one word. Though she worked hard to appear bored and unaffected, I saw the moment that she noticed Cody’s hand on me and the way her eyes narrowed in response. Then she blinked slowly and was back to a bored expression.

“’Sup?”

Grinning, Cody seemed completely unfazed by her behavior.

“I asked Jucee for a lap dance and slid her $500 for it. I’m just making sure you’re cool with that.” Then he lifted both of his eyebrows as he waited for her response.

The fact that she didn’t immediately say no was the first indicator that she, too, was on some bullshit. Shrugging, she didn’t even look at me before returning her gaze back to her phone.

“That’s up to Jucee.”

Oh.

Bet.

Cody turned toward me, a little uncertainty on his face. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that from Poppa, and to be honest, neither had I. But it was all good. I was at work and lap dances were a part of my job. I only ever skipped out on dancing for Cody because Poppa clearly felt a way about it and always gave me more than whatever he offered so that I didn’t lose out. If she wanted to be an asshole because I chose work over a movie night, then she made the decision easy for me. I wasn’t turning down money to kiss her ass.

Instead of saying anything, I climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs. His eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately shot a glance over my shoulder.

“Don’t look at her,” I commanded directly into his ear. Tightening my thighs, I leaned forward and pressed my breasts into his face. “I want your eyes on me while I ride you.”

“Oh fuck,”he whispered, making me giggle.

Good. I needed him to know that he’d fucked up. A dance from me wasn’t just a game he was playing with his sister; it was an experience that he’d never forget.

I rolled against him, moving with the down beat of the song, which was slower than the faster pace of the lyrics. Planting my knees in the oversized armchair on either side of his hips, I bounced in his lap as if I was actually riding his dick, making sure I held his eye contact the entire time. I was no longer thinking of anything beyond the man beneath me and giving him something he’d never forget for the rest of his life.

Biting his lower lip, Cody lifted his hands, reaching for my waist, but I grabbed them and pressed them against the arms of the chair.

“No touching,” I reminded in a firm but easy tone.

Standing, I turned around and bent at the waist, putting my ass right at his eye level. His answering groan was exactly what I needed to hear. I shook my cheeks from side to side a couple of times before bending my knees and slapping my ass onto his lap. The heavy thud that sounded with each connection was like music to me. Each slap the distinct ka-ching of an old-school cash register. Five hundred dollars for three to four minutes of work was already mind-blowing, but the potential for more wasn’t anything to sneeze at. The way I could feel him harden beneath me felt like a bank deposit. In three years of dancing at Sanity, I learned that if you could turn a man on, you could empty his pockets.

I finished my dance by settling into an elevated split, balancing each of my legs on either arm of the chair while I held his knees and made my ass clap in his face. Then I swung my legs over to one side and stood up. When I looked down at him, I almost busted out laughing. He sat there dazed with his eyes glossed over, staring at the space over his lap that I’d just vacated.

Bending, I spoke directly into his ear. “You okay?” I didn’t usually ask, but this was Cody. I knew him beyond the club and actually cared about him. I might’ve also went a little harder than I usually did because his sister had pissed me off. Just a little bit though. Nothing too crazy.

Except, with Cody staring up at me with stars in his eyes, it was possible that I’d overdid it. He’d gotten dances from other women, but I’d never seen him look like this before. I prayed he didn’t start acting weird after this.

He nodded and I chose to take him at his word, but when I tried to walk away, he grabbed my wrist again. Eyebrows lifted in question, I turned back to him just in time to see him fish that roll of money out of his pocket and slide the entire thing into my garter. Grinning, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, which I never did, but again, this was Cody.

“Thank you, Cody.”

Clearing his throat, he waved me off. “Yeah, yeah. You earned that and more. Get away from me, though, ’cause I’m two seconds away from sliding my Amex in there too.”

I busted out laughing and did as he said. Only pausing for a brief second when I glanced over at Poppa for the first time since before I started the dance, only to see that she wasn’t where I’d last saw her. Her chair was empty. That took a little of the wind out of my sails. Her disappearing like that felt like a slap in the face. She knew this was just work for me, and she really couldn’t get mad after pushing the decision off on me when she never hesitated to make it herself every other time.

Feeling justified in my actions didn’t make that little ache at the implications of what her absence meant go away though. I needed to take another turn about the room, but instead, I headed to the back to clear my head. After drinking some water, emptying my garter into a sack in my locker, and using the bathroom, I was ready to hit the floor again. When I stepped into the hallway, Milly was coming in my direction from the main floor.

“Oh, hey,” she said, lifting the tablet in her hand into the air. “I was just looking for you. You have a private dance waiting for you in Tranquility.”

Nodding, I shook out my arms and rolled my shoulders back as if I were shedding the distraction of the crap with Poppa like an unwanted blanket. It didn’t take me long to make my way to the private rooms. There were three, each in graduated sizes with names that made you think you were in a spa instead of an adult club. Serenity, Tranquility, and Relaxation were all decorated in soothing earth tones with plants and lighting that invoked a different type of vibe from the one present on the main floor.

Pulling open the door to Tranquility, the midsize room, I froze in the doorway and seriously contemplated spinning on my heels and heading back out front.

Poppa stood in the center of the room with her eyes trained on me. I couldn’t read her expression, but seeing her was a punch to the gut that was a mix of confusion, apprehension, and desire. Oh, and annoyance. Because why the hell did she look so damn good in a sleeveless basketball jersey and sweat shorts when she was being an asshole? She was supposed to be less attractive to me right now, but that was anything but the case, and that annoyed me.

“What are you doing here?” was the first thing out of my mouth when I finally stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.

Sucking her teeth, she folded her arms across her chest.

“Shit, I could ask you the same thing.”

Pursing my lips, I counted to ten. Clearly, she was spoiling for a fight but I’d have to disappoint her, because I wasn’t here for this shit.

“I’m here because you paid eight hundred and fifty dollars for me to dance for you in this room.”

“And I’d pay ten times that to keep you from grinding on Cody like you wanted to fuck him right there in front of everybody again.”

I threw my hands in the air. Now we were getting somewhere.

“It was a dance, Poppa! It’s my job to be grinding on folks. You knew that when you met me and it’s never been a problem before, so what’s the problem now?”

“Not on my damn brother, Jucee! You know how I feel about that!”

It was my turn to shrug. “Nah, I know how you felt. Today it seemed like you didn’t care, and if you don’t care then again I ask, what’s the problem?”

“You already know what the problem is. I shouldn’t have to say it every time.”

Oh, she really had me fucked up today. “Wait, so you want me to consider your feelings when you can’t even respect me enough to look me in my face and speak? Girl, be for real.”

Canting her head to the side, she nodded. “Let’s talk about speaking for a minute. Did you really have to help Mercedes with something tonight? Or was that just an excuse?”

Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the digital display on the wall and scrolled through the playlists for the right one. I had a couple of favorites when it came to giving private dances, but I wasn’t in the right mindset for either of those. Annoyance ran through my veins and I needed something that was going to calm me down so that I could make it through this hour with Poppa and the next two hours of work. I chose Mercedes’s mix and turned back to Poppa. After what happened on the floor, I barely wanted to look at her. My feelings were still smarting from the sting of her dismissal, and now my hackles were up thanks to this surprise attack. Tryna keep a cool head while dealing with the myriad of emotions she’d invoked in me over the past few days was giving me whiplash and a hell of a headache.

Hands on my hips, try as I might, I couldn’t help the heavy dose of attitude in my voice when I asked, “Does it really matter?”

Her brows furrowed. “If you felt like you had to lie to me about something so basic, then hell yeah, it matters!”

Blowing a breath out through my nose, I counted to ten.

“Listen, I get that, but things have been weird between us lately and I didn’t know how else to get out of going to your house to watch a movie tonight.”

If I hadn’t been staring right at her, I would’ve missed the way her eyes widened with surprise before she shuttered her expression from me. Fuck. This is exactly what I had been trying to avoid, which was why I’d lied in the first place. She wasn’t open to hearing anything that pointed out the flawed way we’d handled this. I got that she wanted things back to the way they were, but trying to do that was exhausting the hell out of me.

“Poppa, now isn’t the time for this. I’m at work and I’m supposed to be dancing.”

“Well, shit,” she drawled, a hard edge to her voice. “If this is the only place I can get the truth out of you, then maybe this is the right time.”

I reeled back as if she’d slapped me. All of the sacrifices I’d been making to make sure she was good and that’s how she wanted to play it? I was in hell, grappling between wanting so much more from her and accepting that she wouldn’t ever be able to give me that, and she couldn’t even give me the space to process this change in our relationship!? I was working on her terms, tiptoeing on eggshells to keep from spooking her, living a half-life with the “something more” that she’d asked for, and she couldn’t even understand that I needed a breather. Absolutely not.

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Nah, not while I’m on the clock. You know I leave the personal shit at the door when I’m at Sanity.”

Her answering shrug was nonchalant as fuck. “You’re still getting paid—what difference does it make?”

“It’s not about the money,” I shouted, fully incensed by her callous words. Did she think she owned my time because she’d paid for a dance? Had she forgotten that I could walk out of this room whenever I felt like it and there wasn’t shit she could do to stop me? How could she ever fix her mouth to say some shit like that to me? “It’s about the principle!”

“Oh, you wanna talk about principle now? How about we start when you lied to me today? Huh? How about that?”

I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. We didn’t do this. We didn’t fight—never had a reason to. This wasn’t us.

But...we also didn’t lie to each other, and kiss in the mouth, and we definitely didn’t fuck. So maybe this was us when we stepped outside of the bounds of our friendship. And maybe Poppa was right, and we did ruin our friendship to an extent.

That thought hurt me more than fighting with Poppa did, and it effectively took all of the wind out of my sails. Shoulders sinking, I licked my lips and offered an olive branch.

“Do you want the dance?”

She stared at me, not saying anything for a minute. What killed me was that I couldn’t decipher what she was thinking. It was such a foreign concept for her to actively hide herself from me, and it was an even further point of proof at how far removed we’d gone from our norm in such a short amount of time. Was she coming to the same conclusion as me? Did she realize that maybe we’d crossed a line that we couldn’t uncross, no matter how much we—she—tried to pretend we didn’t? I had no idea. And that fucked with me.

So, when she nodded and sat in the center of the wall of couches, I was genuinely relieved. I hadn’t been sure what path she would choose, but I was going to make the best of it. I could salvage this moment and hopefully we could have an honest conversation with all of our cards laid out on the table in a day or so.

Ciara’s “Body Party” shuffled on, and I rolled my shoulders back in an attempt to regain my focus. I was at work and I was here to dance. So that’s what I would do.

Swaying from side to side, I let the music wash over me, getting me in the zone. Private dances were about selling a fantasy. The point was to transport the other person into another reality—one where they could actually have everything that was on display in front of them. To make them feel deserving.

In that moment, in the Tranquility room with Poppa, the fantasy I was selling was one where everything was exactly as it had been for the three years that we’d known each other. One where we’d never slept together and there was no sexual tension keeping things from being normal. Where we were friends and friends only. It was a fantasy because we’d never be there again. No matter the outcome of that future conversation that we needed to have, Poppa Jucee of old was no more.

So right now, I was going to pretend.

And it was fine. I danced around the room, first with my back to Poppa, trying to lose myself in the music and forget the bullshit plaguing me, and then facing her, appreciating that the shadows in the room fell perfectly across her face when she was seated so that I couldn’t see her eyes and read them on purpose. I danced toward her as the music transitioned into “Tell Me” by Usher, climbing over her similar to how I’d done to Cody just half an hour earlier, but having more room to move as I wanted. With my hands on the back of the couch behind her using it as an anchor, I rolled against her, throwing my head back and running a hand along my skin from my neck to my navel. Sliding down her body, I pushed her knees apart and massaged her thighs as I danced in front of her.

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.”

My name was a harsh groan from behind me as Poppa’s hands found their way back to my ass, once again kneading my cheeks for a brief moment before she reached around me to peel the cups of my bikini to the side and bare my breasts. My already hardened nipples tightened even further at the rush of cool air, but Poppa immediately covered them when she scooped them into her hands and played with the turgid points.

There was an unexpected vibration at the base of the strap that seemed less for me and more for Poppa’s pleasure, and the knowledge that we were both being stimulated was heady. It fueled me as I began to bounce in her lap, slapping down hard, trying to put as much pressure on that little buzzer against her clit as possible. I wanted her to cum just as much as I wanted to cum.

I felt reckless and wanton, dangerous and so deliciously sexy. This moment with Poppa was the only thing I could process. Her hands on me, playing with my ultra-sensitive nipples, her strap filling me up, her hips snapping up to meet me with each descent, her titties pressed into my back, her goddamned lips on my neck. I was floating.

And when she grunted as if she’d just taken a blow to the gut, legs straightening in front of her, toes pointed out like she didn’t know which way to go, I knew she was cumming. She bit down on my neck and pinched my nipples so hard you would’ve thought she was trying to snap them off and put them in her pocket for a midnight snack later, and the sting—the sheer-fucking-pain was exactly what I needed to send me flying right behind her. I might’ve cried her name as I crested. Not too loudly though, just a little bit.

As I came down, I slumped backward, head on her shoulder, chest heaving as if I’d just ran a four-by-four. She released my nipples and began to massage them, instantly soothing the harsh treatment she’d just inflicted upon them. Her lips were back on my neck, licking and kissing the likely bruised areas, and I sat there in silence, welcoming her touch, basking in her aftercare.

Thiswas what I’d missed the first time around, when we’d been exhausted after a long night of partying and subsequent fucking, and the eventual orgasm was equivalent to a healthy dose of NyQuil. This was what I’d been looking for the morning after.

And just like that, my bubble burst. The reminder of how things ended just a few days ago pulled me up short.

What the actual fuck was I doing?

Finally thinking clearly, I started to pull out of her grasp. I needed off her lap and out of that room. My head was clouded and in need of fresh air and space. Planting my feet, I braced to stand, only to be stopped by her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me back into place. Back against her.

“Where you going?” Her voice was heavy with lust and I felt my pussy contract around the strap.

“Poppa,” I groaned. Or maybe I moaned. I don’t really know.

“Mmhm,” she murmured. Wrapping a hand around my neck, she turned my head to the side and captured my lips in a nasty kiss. She licked into my mouth like she was trying to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop, and I definitely, without a doubt moaned that time. “I want you to say my name just like that.”

Before I had a chance to ask her what she meant, she’d dropped her arm from my waist and slipped her hand into the waistband of my thong. My lips parted, because I really needed to know what she was doing, but then she sucked my tongue into her mouth and slowly pumped her hips as she did very indecent things to my clit. Instinctively, my thighs tried to close, but then she stopped everything. Stopped kissing me, stopping playing in my panties, stopped fucking into me. Even my breaths stopped, halting right where they were in my lungs.

“Keep these fucking legs open for me, Jucee. I want you cumming for me one more time. Do you understand?”

You’d have thought a draft blew into the room the way I shuddered from head to toe. What was happening? What—how—who—why was she doing this to me? I had no answers, but what I did know was that I nodded and opened my legs like she told me to. And she immediately resumed her ministrations.

The combination of sensations was pure torture. Years of piano and guitar playing gave Poppa a particular skillset that I hadn’t really appreciated until she was playing out a rhythm between my thighs that had my breath coming in stuttered pants and gasps. Her shallow thrusts were seemingly harmless, but every movement against my already sensitive walls was so overwhelming that I could have cried. I might have, actually. Just a couple of tears though. Nothing too dramatic.

The worst—or best, depending on how you looked at it—of it was the way she kissed me. She was worshipping my mouth as if it was the only way that she could ingest oxygen and kissing me was literally integral to her next breath. It made me dizzy and weak and floatfloatfloat away from my body with pure, unfettered love.

It made me delusional.

Cumming made it worse.

I jerked and seized and trembled in her arms, and she held me the entire time. As I caught my bearings, she kissed my cheek, the side of my nose, my jaw, my neck, my shoulder, and only then did she release my neck. Switching arms, she continued holding me against her while she pulled her hand out of my thong and brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking each digit clean.

When I tried to stand at that time, she helped me, supporting me from below as well as holding onto one of my hands to offer leverage. My legs were a little unsteady on my heels, but with her help, I eased up gingerly, groaning when the strap slipped free of me. Walking toward the door, I put a little distance between me and the couch and began to right myself.

I straightened my thong, rolling my eyes at how wet and ruined it now was, and then tucked my titties back into my bikini. “Dance for You” shuffled on, filling the room with sensual lyrics that felt a little too on the nose for my liking. Deep in my thoughts, I damn near jumped outta my skin when Poppa wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. It felt so familiar—so normal—that it made my stomach ache.

But also...was she hugging me as a friend or a lover?

I couldn’t tell the difference and that was the problem. My head was a jumble of questions, and her confusing back-and-forth behavior didn’t help. While I was in my head, Poppa circled me, settling her hands at the small of my back as she leaned in and captured my lips in a sweet kiss full of promise.

The desire to trust that promise was so strong that I found myself swaying on my feet and leaning into her. We both laughed as she helped to steady me, an undeniable smugness written all over her face.

“You know,” I began, after eagerly kissing her back despite the whisper of caution flitting around at the back of my mind, “I really am supposed to be working.”

Poppa smacked her lips. “Man, you worked! And we didn’t even use the whole time that I paid for, so you don’t have to rush.”

She kind of had a point, but there was no way I could spend the whole time in that room with her, cuddling and kissing. I was already going to be in so much fucking trouble when Mal found out, and she absolutely would. Nothing happened in Sanity that she didn’t know about. Nothing.

“You’re right,” I conceded. “I don’t have to rush. But I do have to go get cleaned up before heading back out onto the floor.” I gave her a knowing look.

Grinning, she dipped her chin twice and dropped another kiss on my lips before stepping back. “Okay, okay. You have a point.” She eyed me for a second. “So...can we still do movie night?”

Tossing my head back, I cracked up. “The only thing I’m gonna want to do when I leave here is stop by Waffle House and then go get in the bed.”

Joining me in my laughter, Poppa shook her head. “I didn’t mean tonight—I meant in general. Is that still something we can do?”

Twisting my lips to the side, I thought on it. She seemed more open—more receptive—which was a good sign. I wanted to believe that we could get over this hump and have something defined and stable. So I nodded.

“Yeah. I think we can do that.”