Coming Of Age

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Ashley’s Cabaret was drawing its share of guests. A large restless Saturday night crowd of drunken sailors filled the small nightclub. A small naval base, on the coast of North Carolina, offered the men stationed there small chance for entertainment. Most of these sailors were on leave and just wanted to have a little fun.

As Dakota stepped down from the stage, her black dress in her hand, she sighed softly. The men tonight seemed to want more attention than usual. She had to linger over one last macho man, who was determined to get some affection before he handed her the usual dollar bill. Often, a night like this one included a hundred men who seemed to think love was worth a dollar.

A young man offered Dakota his hand as she stepped off of the stage. Dakota’s high heeled boots were not to be trusted as she climbed and descended stairs. The colored lights flashing on the mirrored walls made her dizzy; it had been a long night and Dakota was tired. She distracted herself from her fatigue by reminding herself she was expecting a friend to arrive before the night was over. Once he was here, she would feel more comfortable.

Dakota walked over to the bar, her muscular, tanned legs attracting more than a few glances from the drunks sitting there, but she made no attempt to cover herself. Her curvaceous hips swiveled as she parted the crowd. Dakota’s most beautiful asset was the Mother Goddess breasts hanging in front of her. Her wide mouth curved into a smile and her green eyes flashed when the men’s gazes followed her. Flipping her curly, auburn hair and gesturing with her long, painted fingernails, she managed to coax a drink out of the bartender. She sipped it until she felt more relaxed, and then turned to step into the dressing room.

Alone in the dressing room, she pulled her long, black dress over her hips, adjusting the top of her dress to cover those marvelous breasts. Ashley’s was short-staffed tonight and the few women working faced the challenge of entertaining the men, steely smiles fixed on their faces. Once the last bohunk walked out the door, they could all go home. Dakota leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

Well, I’d better make some more money before we close, she thought. She walked back out into the dim, smoky confines of the bar area. Scanning the men, she noticed someone wearing a cowboy hat down at the end of the bar. Grinning, she walked up to him and growled, “Care to buy me a drink, stranger?”

The man in the cowboy hat turned, surprised to see Dakota at last. He stood up to hug her, his tight jeans and leather jacket outlining his compact, muscular body.

“Tank, I have been waiting all night for you. Are you on leave now?”

Tank smiled and his blue eyes lit up. “Yeah, I have ninety-six hours to spend before aksaray escort I have to be back at the base. Want to shoot some pool?”

Dakota nodded in agreement. “Sure.”

Her smile grew wider as her eyes traveled down Tank’s body. Tank’s blue jeans gathered tightly about his crotch and his ass. Dakota liked what she saw. As Tank put down his drink, Dakota slid her hand across the wide belt at Tank’s waist. Tank hooked his thumbs over a belt buckle as broad as Texas. The two made a fine looking couple as they sauntered over to the pool table.

Tank, being a gentleman, allowed Dakota to break. He then proceeded to nail a few shots in a row. His aim was flawless; he had obviously played pool before. Within a few minutes, the number of stripes on the table had dwindled to none, and then all that was left for Tank was to sink the eight-ball. He aimed his cue at the cue ball, leaning over the table to increase his reach. Smiling wickedly, Dakota wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, supporting herself on his broad back. Tank’s movements were slow and graceful. With a beautiful woman on his back, her breasts pressing into him, he easily banked the eight ball off of the end cushion and into the near corner pocket.

Turning, Tank winked at Dakota as he laid his cue across the green felt of the pool table. Dakota’s smile was sly. She returned the wink and reached up to grab the cowboy hat from Tank’s head. She placed the wide-brimmed hat on her own head. She pulled it low over her eyes, bit her lower lip, and sashayed away. Over her shoulder, she called, “Thanks for the game, stranger.”

Finally, the night was over. Dakota spent some time commiserating with a few of the other woman in the dressing room, before walking back out to the bar. Her purse firmly planted under her arm, she pulled at her garter belt until it loosed somewhat. Whew, she thought. Either this is tighter than it looked in the store, or I’ve gained some weight.

Her eyes widened as Tank turned to smile at her from the same stool at the end of the bar, where she had found him earlier. He had had a few more drinks. Well, she thought, I am going to have to drive the poor boy home, she thought. Shaking her head, she rested a small hand on Tank’s shoulder. “Come on, Tank. I’ll take you to my place.”

The drive home took Dakota and Tank along back streets, wending their way along the coastline. Dakota’s brick red 1991 Toyota managed to get them both to her house safely. Stars twinkled overhead as Dakota pulled Tank, his arm over her shoulder, into the one-story, ranch-style place where she lived.

Dakota decided the first thing she ought to do, as soon as Tank was safely in a deep armchair, was to have a drink. I might as well catch up with the fool, anal yapan escort she thought. She put ice in a tumbler and poured some whiskey, when she thought she heard Tank calling her name.

Carrying her drink, she went back to the den to see what he wanted.

“What’re you drinking, Honey?” Tank asked with a sloppy grin on his face.

“Oh no, you don’t. You are cut off for the moment. Maybe, if you are a good boy, I’ll feed you in the morning.” Dakota purred.

Tank’s eyes lit up. “Come here, girl.”

Dakota smiled impishly and said, “Baby, I need a shower. I’ll come back out when I am wearing something more…comfortable.”

Tank, grumbling, reached for the remote and flicked on a sports channel on the television.

Satisfied that he had made himself at home, Dakota withdrew in to her bedroom and pulled off her clothes. She winced as the tight thong chafed sensitive, recently shaved skin.

She ran hot water in the shower and soaped up lavishly. She let her mind wander to Tank. Was he as good as he seemed to be? Only one way to find out, she decided. It had been several months since her last boyfriend had left her and she was in the mood for a good screw.

She looked up, as she turned off the water, to see Tank come in the bathroom. He began to piss in the toilet. Dakota could not resist. She pulled back the shower curtain to let Tank look at her dripping wet, and very naked body. Her curly auburn hair lay plastered to her back. Rivulets of water ran between her breasts, over her belly, and down between her thighs.

Tank’s eyes popped. He reached out to steady himself on the sink, and then let his attention linger on Dakota’s luscious body. Also at attention was Tank’s dick, making a very believable impression of a ramrod-straight rifle.

Dakota decided she wanted Tank’s fully erect member. Stepping out of the shower, wet in many ways, she cooed, “Tank darling. Will you dry me off, dear?” She handed Tank a fluffy, white towel and waited, her back turned, for him to comply.

Tank had other plans. He wrapped Dakota in a bear hug. His mouth found the nape of her neck and he began sucking until Dakota felt her spine tingle. With her ass pressed up against Tank, Dakota was sure she could feel his prick, ready and willing.

Turning around, Dakota gave her mouth to Tank, who searched hungrily for her tongue with his. Thus intertwined, Tank and Dakota kissed passionately.

Tank pulled off his shirt; Dakota following suit with his blue jeans. Beneath them, she found no underwear, only a very large penis rising from a thick crop of pubic hair. Dakota caressed the huge organ, feeling the head pop forth, throbbing under her touch. Dakota needed that rod inside her. Already she felt her juices atakent escort flowing, mixing with the shower water, which had not dried.

Tank put his arms under her and picked her bodily off the floor. Dakota had loved being carried since she was a child.

“Take me into the bedroom and fuck me, Tank,” she sighed.

With his dick wagging in front of him and Dakota in his arms, Tank walked into the bedroom. The room was dark and Tank, still being drunk, almost missed when he laid Dakota down on her bed. Dakota spread her legs wide, and to Tank’s credit, he did not miss as he lowered his head. His lips found her labia, shaven smoothly. Soon, Tank’s mouth was filled with Dakota’s cum as she writhed in ecstasy. Grabbing the corners of her comforter underneath her, Dakota’s hips bucked in orgasm. Tank’s mouth followed her cunt in every direction it moved. Panting, Dakota cried, “Fuck me, Tank!”

Tank was ready. His pole seemed ready to explode as he knelt in front of Dakota. Dakota’s legs stuck out around him. Between them, her pussy waited — wet, womanly, and very, very willing.

Tank tried to slow down a bit, but Dakota would have none of that. Her muscular legs grabbed Tank from behind and pulled him into her. Tank leaned forward, grunting. Without even trying, his dick pushed forth inside her, as his weight bore down. Dakota’s moans increased in pitch.

Tank thrust in and out, while Dakota moved her hips in rhythm with his. As her second orgasm approached, Tank grew more and more excited. Her vagina surged around his penis and they came together, both of them gasping for breath. They rode out the last of their steam, crying out in abandon.

Tank rolled over, wiping sweat from his eyes. Dakota’s chest heaved and her breath came in ragged gasps. “Oh, Tank!” she murmured over and over.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms. The sun rose and the small world of the coastal town started to work again, and still Dakota and Tank slept.

Tank was still sleeping, when Dakota rolled over and hitched her leg up over him. Smiling, she caressed his chest with a languid hand. She remembered the previous few hours; the sex was as good as she had ever experienced. Again, she felt herself growing excited down below. Her inner recesses tingled from the night’s lovemaking. She asked herself, Should I do him again, or let him rest? Her mind flitted from images of his broad smiling face to a close up of his engorged member. She quivered. After last night, she still wanted that dick for herself.

Shaking Tank lightly, she called, “Tank. Tank. Wake up, honey.”

Tank smacked his lips, swallowing — his mouth pasty. He groaned and Dakota realized he must have a hangover. Getting up quickly, she went to the bathroom and drew a glass of water for him. She walked back into the bedroom and found Tank watching her with heavily lidded eyes.

She gave him the water to sip and curled up next to him, skin touching skin. The scent of last night’s sex still lingered over them. Dakota was patient. He might not be ready right now, but, hey, they had all day.

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