Martine (II)

This last week has been interesting. I didn’t get to see Martine much because she was working at the strip club. We did get together for brunch on Sunday “morning” (that’s 1PM for her). She was dressed pretty sexy, but not too much for a public place (and certainly not by Montreal standards—ALL the girls look good, here!). I did my best to avoid thinking about sex, but the way her boobs pushed against her t-shirt, it was hard not too. Eventually, she let out a little sigh. Was it annoyance or something else?

“Jaycee,” she said with a soft voice. “Are… you thinking about my boobs?”

Busted!

“Y-yeah… Look, it’s hard not to, they’re… spectacular. I just want to…”

She let out a little gasp.

“It’s getting me all… Oooh…”

She dropped her spoon and started gripping the table with both hands. I tried reading her with my faerie sight, but as expected, there was nothing. The signs were there, though: flushed face and chest, slight trembling, squirming of the hips… She was getting hotter by the second, and it was getting me riled up too. For a brief moment, I wanted her to rip her shirt off, but I caught myself. It was too late, though, and her hands flew to her shirt. I quickly reached for her wrists and stopped her. Not here, I thought in a panic.

“I… don’t know why I…” she started between short breaths. “I just want to… Oooh… want to show them to you… to everyone! They feel so hot…”

Uh oh… Yeah, they looked hot all right. Her nipples were hard as rocks. There was no stopping her, she was getting worse, probably because I was getting worse myself. You can’t have a girl like her in front of you and not get excited when you watch her losing control. But I knew this was a bad time to do this, so I made a supreme effort and tried to think of her as my own sister, someone cold, malicious and sexless. Back in my youth, nothing could give me a cold shower like thinking of my sister, and this did the job here. In just a few seconds, everything went back to normal and Martine looked at me like she just woke up.

“What was that?” she asked. “What just happened?”

I didn’t want to answer that, so I stalled. “What do you mean?”

“I was… hot, and now it stopped. You know!” She leaned in and stared into my eyes. “Why did you stop?”

Uh, what?

“I don’t…”

She leaned back against her chair and gave me an indescribable look. “I _know_ you did this, and I’m going to prove it.” Her hands started rubbing her sides, her eyes fixed on me as if daring me to prove her wrong.

We’re talking about a pro, here. This girl knows how to look sexy, bring you into her world and fire up your imagination. It wasn’t long before I my mind started wandering into dangerous territory, and her body began responding accordingly. I immediately thought of my ball-busting sister and got myself (and her) under control again.

“Well?” Melissa said, a smile on her lips. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

Damn it. She played me. A smart stripper. Who’d have thought?

“All right.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I have a… thing.”

“A thing? That’s not very…” She looked for a word. “Éloquent?”

She sounded so SEXY when she spoke in French. Maybe that’s part of the reason why all women here are so sexy.

“Eloquent,” I said, focusing on the topic, not her sexiness.

“Yes, well, for a guy who works with words, ‘thing’ is a bit vague. What ‘thing’?”

I thought about it for a moment. Nothing sounds truer than the truth, even if it’s not the whole truth.

“I have a… connection with you. You know, a kind of spiritual bond, except the sexy way. I can’t explain it better than that. I… I know it’s kind of creepy, but I swear it’s not something I did to you. It just… happened.”

I knew this was a very slippery slope and hoped to God she didn’t start screaming at me. But she just shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” she said, like it was nothing serious.

There was a pause while I gathered my jaw from the table and jammed it back in place (figuratively, of course).

“What do you mean, you don’t mind? I just messed with your mind, and that’s okay?”

“Well, you didn’t do it on purpose, and I think I believe you. And I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, it was kind of hot, losing control like that. We should do it again, so long as you keep it safe for me… It gets me REALLY hot.”

Ah… sure, ma’am, whatever you want. Seriously, though, was this girl for real?

She looked at her watch. “Look, I have to go to the gym, I’m meeting with my trainer in 30 minutes. Let’s get together tomorrow, maybe, and try a few things?”

I took care of the tab, we kissed, and she rushed off. Just for fun, as she walked away, I imagined her getting a rush of searing heat between her thighs, and observed as she stumbled before jogging off.

Wow, this girl is going to be FUN to be with.

–Jaycee
“I’m doing it.”

3 thoughts on “Martine (II)

  1. To what extent can you be sure that she isn’t ‘cool’ with this situation, just because you want her to be cool with it? You could be giving her an unconscious “push” and she has zero defence…

    1. You’re a glass-half-empty kinda guy, aren’t you? 🙂

      I suppose it’s possible. I have no way of telling.

      –Jaycee
      “I’m doing it.”

      1. When there’s faerie magic involved, the glass is half empty — and you don’t want to know what’s in it. ^^

Leave a Reply to Gallstone Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

*

*

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Bloomin’ Newsletter

Want comics ahead of schedule?
Get the Newsletter