of my body while in the chair, from the sides of my tits to my ankles.
Still moving to the beat, she urged me to loosen my hips and unlock my knees. I had no idea why I did it without a fight. She didn’t try opening my legs wide. Just enough to align them with her tits that bounced on them. The expression on her face was that the little bit of contact we had made her feel good. Her hands were raised over her shoulders and she reached through her long hair, gripping her scalp. Her neon green lips were open and eyes closed as she bounced on the back of her legs. I could relate to that—the titties thing. When Ashton touched, sucked or licked on my titties, it did things to my body and mind that scared me.
But the way I did nothing to make her feel this good, and her acting as if I did, made me realize what I wasn’t good at. I didn’t have the balls to make facial expressions or moan or grab on Ashton when he did those things to me. I just lay there until I couldn’t take it anymore and I lost control. Then she dropped back, pumping her crotch, covered only by a thin layer of neon green cotton giving away everything, in the air. Her neck rolled, tongue circled over her lips, too. This was something else.
When I felt gripping on my shoulder, I was reminded he was there. “She needs to be tipped, Nabby-girl.” His voice was smooth velvet at the side. My spine shook, but I fought through it and jumped into action. I peeled away a few bills and tightly tossed them at her. “Shower them over her like that blooming bud she is, KaToria.” His breath hit my skin.
And like an obedient child, I lifted just enough to sprinkle the bills over her. He was right: she deserved to be rewarded. After I sat back, somehow now happy Ashton’s hand was still at my shoulder, she stood and danced toward me. My head pushed back into a body—likely Ashton’s—when her leg swung over me, heel locking onto the armrest. Seconds later, her other leg and foot did the same, and her pussy was a foot away from my face. I didn’t want this type of closeness to her, but couldn’t get enough of her powerful sexuality.
She was beautiful, skilled, sexy, and…confident. I could only hope to come close to that. What would it be like to have that kind of freedom? My cousins and Toya were right: I had never been fat. It seemed I had a body that adults liked. Now that I was an adult, why couldn’t I have the confidence to use my body to communicate with someone I liked?
Like…Ashton…
His hand was still on me, and my eyes were glued to the dancer. Why couldn’t I throw myself at him like she was doing me was a burning question. It was hot, and so like something a guy like Ashton would want. The scent of vagina aside, this woman had me feeling…sexy. The way she looked me in the eye while sharing her private part was so fucking boss.
“Tori,” I didn’t detect Ashton at my ear until his facial hair tickled my cheek. “Her name is Wet-Wet.” The groan in his voice did shit to me.
I was so…horny and didn’t know what to do. Between the shots, the confident dancer, Ashton’s scent and sexy voice, I was in a bad way I wasn’t used to. Without thinking, my hand went for his on my shoulder and squeezed.
The girl smiled, not breaking rhythm in her twerk. “Hi, there, birthday girl,” she purred.
I couldn’t speak, my eyes bouncing all over.
“Wet-Wet likes girls, Tori.”
The woman’s face opened in shock. “You like girls, too?”
She’d broken character. Her voice too high now, energy too desperate. She wanted to know. At the same time, Ashton moved our locked hands to his crotch. He wanted me to feel he was hard. Usually—before BSU—that act would have sent me into a fucking weirded-out crisis. Right now, it weakened me and I fell into my chair even further.
My answer was choppy when my head shook too fast, then I thought to speak, “No.”
Because I didn’t. For the first time in my life, I knew who I was sexually. I knew I liked boys. It was clear in a weird way. This woman was beautiful and sexy as all get out,