Free Backstage At Chippendales by Greg Raffetto

asked. 
    “They’re still inside,” Lisa said. 
    Just then, the driver noticed ME sitting next to Lisa.  “OH!” he said, a bit embarrassed, “I think it’s time for me to take a break now!” And at that, the driver fumbled for his cigarettes, and hurriedly got out of the limo, and said, just before closing the door, “You kids have fun!”
    Now that we were alone, Lisa asked me if I wanted a drink, and I responded, “Sure, I’ll have a shot of whiskey…in fact, I’ll have a double.”   Lisa quickly poured me a triple, and I had scarcely downed it when she was
     
     
     
    on top of me, thrusting her tongue in and out of my mouth.  I felt her nimble hand go right for my manhood, and I saw that her other hand was snaking off her own panties from beneath her skirt.  This girl works fast, I thought.  I wasn’t wearing any G-string or underwear this particular night, (commando!) so this was going to be easy…all I had to do was unsnap my fannypack with my money in it and pull down my spandex trousers, which I did.  Lisa slid up her skirt, and before I knew it, I was inside her, with her on the back seat of the limo, I kneeling on the floor.  The limo was rocking away as Lisa wrapped her beautiful, tan legs around my waist, our lips locked and our tongues twirling around one another.  We humped with urgent ardor, conscious that we would soon be missed.  Soon she was whispering in my ear, “I want you to come in me, Greg!  Come in me!  Come inside of me!”  That did it for me…soon I was shooting load after load of my hot juices into her hot punani…Jeezus she felt good. 
                  Afterward, Lisa and I stepped back out of the limousine, and the driver was standing there, arms clasped, staring straight ahead (deliberately away from us), looking as professional as humanly possible, doing his level best not to grin, and Lisa and I just booked it right back into the nightclub.  We didn’t try to pretend that we hadn’t just fucked or anything…we were just like, ‘yeah, we just fucked —so what of it?’
                 
     
     
    When we got back into the club, it appeared that either none of her friends had noticed that Lisa and I had been gone—or none of them cared.  I didn’t care which—they weren’t my friends.  All I cared about was that Lisa and I had just had the perfect lusty limousine love affair.

Chapter Nineteen
The Experiment
     
    So one night after the show, I’m partying at the Stock Exchange with my girlfriend, Ellen, and some other gals.  I had met Ellen at Chippendales just a month earlier.  Now Ellen had gotten horribly bitchy since getting her new D-cup breast implants the week before, and I was planning on dumping her, but “The Experiment” isn’t about that.
    I was asked to give a ride home to a friend of a friend of mine’s who had been stranded at Chippendales by her friends, a pretty, married gal by the name of Jeannette.  Ellen and I drove our cars parallel for about thirty minutes, until Ellen, her car bursting full of friends, took one freeway and I kept going in order to take this gal home.  I was supposed to meet up with Ellen at her house later, after she’d dropped her friends off. 
    Now I had been chatting up this gal, innocently enough, the whole time, but as soon as Ellen and her carload full of friends broke away on the other freeway, I decided to try a little “experiment” just to see what all I could get away with these days, Chippendales stud that I was.  In a husky tone, I said to Jeannette, “Take off your underwear.”
    Jeannette, turns to me and says, “What?!?”
    “You heard me,” I said in a deep, suave tone again, “take off your underwear.”  And you know what?  She DID!  So I continued, “Now I want you to slide your hand down between your legs and start playing with
     
     
     
    yourself.”   And you know what?  She DID!  I couldn’t believe that I was getting away with this,