8 comments/ 56674 views/ 7 favorites Monika Can't Resist Him By: Forever Lucid As always folks, some of this is truth, and some is embellished truth - you decide. And thank you for your comments on my other stories. FL ------------------------------------------------- Monika Braxwell reached up and smacked the $20 bill onto the dancer's ass. The crisp bill stayed put. The dancer's sweat acted like an adhesive to that and the other couple of dozen bills that clung to his 6-foot 2-inch frame. The bills were a contrast to his chocolate skin, and he knew it worked well with his dance finale, which was coming. One more song or two and he give the ladies what they all came to see. "Moni when's he gonna do it!" Yolanda Jefferies asked Monika, barely able to scream over the horde of women in the club. "When? I want to see him do it." "Damn, Yolo, give the man a chance," Monika replied, laughing. "He's going to do it. He always does it. Always. It's his signature. He has to do it." Quynton caught the two women out of the corner of his eyes. He looked at several more women, too. They were all waiting for the finale. Then Quynton spied a woman across the stage who had to be in her late 50s, maybe even 60s. The woman was yelling at a friend while holding her own hands about a foot apart. Quynton got on all fours and prowled to the two. He got off the stage and sat in the lap of the woman doing the talking – facing her. She was paralyzed, mouth open as if to scream, but no sound came out. She couldn't believe he was right there on her lap. His glistening chest bobbed up and down no more than 10 inches from her face. She took the bills off his chest and threw them toward the stage. She wanted to see his skin. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" yelled the woman's friend. Quynton's chest and stomach were finally bare. He took pride in his 36-year-old body, working out like a man possessed sometimes. He carried less than 7% body fat with his 225 pounds. He knew he looked younger than all the guys working at the club, and he reveled in that. The ladies liked it, too, and they paid him well for it. The older woman ran her fingers over Quynton's chest, down his rippled abs and back up. She reached around to his butt and squeezed it. Quynton took her hands in his and stood. First he put her hands on his thighs, then his waist and to his lower back. Less than foot separated Quynton's bulge from the woman's face. He moved his pelvis closer and closer, and simultaneously he started to vibrate his legs, actually, he shook them – his feet remaining still – back and forth. Only he did it so fast, it gave the illusion he was a human vibrator. Women close to the stage were jealous. They wanted to be her. Women in the back clamored to get a closer look. Quynton grasped the woman by the back of her head, eased his crotch into her face and vibrated even more. The woman rubbed the back of Quynton's thighs and his butt. She brought her arms around, trying to touch his chest. She brought her hands down his body to his thighs and started toward his crotch. Just as the woman's hands got a good grasp of Quynton's dick, Quynton looked toward the DJ booth and winked. The music stopped, and out of the speakers blared, "I don't see nuthin' wrong! ... With a little bump and grind!" That was Quynton's song, the remix of R. Kelly's "Bump and Grind." He quickly left the woman sitting there sweating, flustered, holding out her hands and staring at an imaginary dick. Her friend soon hugged her and they both laughed and started cheering with the rest of the women. "Ladies, this is what you're here for," the DJ said. "So dig in deep and get 'em ready. Now sing it with me ladies. 'I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little...'" And all the women simultaneously yelled, "Dick Money!" "No, I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little ..." "Dick Money!" "Moni, he's doing it! He's doing it!" Yolanda screamed. Monika just laughed and watched Quynton's gyrations. She had seen his show a thousand times. She followed him from Phoenix to South Beach and now San Diego. Quynton was just stopping though Phoenix a few years back, thinking he could pick up a few bucks before meeting up with buddies in South Beach where they would make big money. The two met after one of his shows. It was at a club where the ladies went early for a male review. After the show, the doors opened for the men. Quynton had always thought the men should pay him, too. After all, he'd already done the work for them. They just had to take the women home and let nature pleasure them. After seeing him mingling in the club, Monika took a couple shots of courage and asked Quynton to dance. The two danced the entire night and ended up at Monika's apartment. (That's another story folks.) Quynton asked Monika to go to Florida, and with nothing holding her to Phoenix, she accepted. The two dated the two years they were in South Beach and for a couple of months in San Diego. They were longer dating that night at the club, Monika was married now, had been for four of her five years in San Diego. But she just couldn't help slipping out once in a while to watch Quynton dance. Monika was glad he finally decided to settle in San Diego – just more opportunity to see him move. So, every time she gets a chance, Monika convinces a different girlfriend to go to this out-of-the-way strip club. "Yeah baby!" Yolanda yelled. "Do it! Do it! I don't see nuthin' wrong, with a little Dick Money!" Monika smiled that knowing smile because she knew what was concealed behind the skimpy material holding Quynton's dick. "If you women only knew," she thought, then joined in with the singing. "All right ladies," the DJ said. "You know what's next. Who wants it? Who wants to get up on stage with Big Q? He needs a couple of volunteers. Who wants it?" Quynton spread his legs wide and let his body descend to the floor in the splits. He leaned forward and pulled himself across the stage. He rolled over several times, money clinging to his body as he rolled. Quynton made eye contact with several women who hoped they were the ones he'd choose. He kept rolling, picking up more and more money. Finally he stopped. His eyes focusing in on a familiar face. "What are you doing here?" Quynton yelled to Monika. "Hey, I'm grown," Monika said. "I can go where I please." "I might have to have you arrested for stalking me." "Me stalking you? Yeah right!" "Oh you know you still love me!" "No, I just love things about you," she replied and looked straight at his crotch. Quynton smiled at her, stood and reached out for her hand. Monika shook her head. Then the crowd got onto her, booing her. Peer pressure made her climb on to the stage and sit in one of the two chairs. The rock on Monika's left ring finger didn't slip by Quynton. But what did he care. Just another married women letting loose. Monika knew what was coming. So she waited while Quynton found another woman. He walked back toward the older woman. Her face grew excited, but Quynton stuck out his hand for her friend. The older woman looked mad for a moment. But then started cheering for her friend. Quynton pulled the younger woman on stage and sat her in a chair with its back to Monika. Quynton then blindfolded both women and grabbed a large sheer, satin white sheet. "All right ladies!" the DJ started. "You know what it takes!" Just then gobs of 1s, 5s, 10s and even few 20s started flooding the stage. Quynton pulled two more women on stage who gathered as much money as they could and gave it to the two seated women. As a reward for their help, Quynton wrapped the sheet around both women so that their heads were the only things showing, and he began a slow dance with the both of them. Quynton spread his legs and descended into a position as if he were riding a horse. Each woman straddled a leg. Quynton started moving up and down as they rubbed his chest, abs, butt and crotch. This is the part where Quynton allowed his body to run wild. He didn't mind getting a hard on. Where he would move away from women at other times, Quynton encouraged the touching during his final dance. "I won't stop until I hear the ohh ahh sound," came R. Kelly's voice over the speakers. "Don't front, you know, about the rodeo show." The women on Quynton's legs held their hands high, stretching out the loose fabric, as if they were riding a slow bucking bronco. The pressure Quynton's dick put against its confining fabric was getting uncomfortable. Quynton didn't have an especially long dick, maybe eight inches on a good day. but it was incredibly thick. "OK, ladies!" he yelled at the women riding his legs. "Take it off!" Just then, the two women ducked under the sheet and began taking off Quynton's g-string. Bright light shined on the trio making three shadows out of the forms inside the sheet. The women made quick worked of the Quynton's flimsy material, releasing his dick. They both grabbed it, stared at it, marveling at its girth. They wanted to taste it, but knew it was against the rules. They knew he'd stop the performance if they got so much as a lip on his dick. Yet, Quynton teased them slowly rotating his hips. "Get out!" came a scream from the audience. "Get out! Now! Get out!" Quynton smiled. The two women looked at each other, and didn't want to let go. But soon they felt hands on their waist and legs. Women from the audience had climbed on stage and began pulling the two away from Quynton. "Get 'em off the stage!" came a yell from the crowd. "Off the stage! Off the stage!" The nearly rabid women yelled in unison. Quynton pranced toward the seated women, rubbing the smooth sheet over their arms and across their face. Small shudders came from each woman's body. Nipples hardened from the sensations of sound and touch. He leaned over to each woman, telling her, "It has to be wet for them to stick. It has to be sloppy wet. Can you do that? Can you make it sloppy wet?" The young woman meekly nodded her head. Monika gave sarcastic smirk. "Is that a yes?" Quynton asked. "What do you think?" Monika replied. "Haven't I made it wet before? Haven't I made it sloppy before? Haven't I made it glisten, shine and explode all its gooey sloppiness a thousand times before? Don't you think I know what I'm doing?" "Then do it!" Quynton yelled and flung the sheet over both women while placing his body, naked under the sheet, in front of Monika. The audience women started screaming incoherent yells of bacchanalian delight. They saw Quynton's shadowy form dancing over and around the two women. They saw his arms reach out and rub the women's bodies. They saw the women reach out and grab Quynton's legs, butt, arms, chest and especially the rigid phallus protruding from between his legs. They wanted to grab Quynton. They wanted to be one of the two women sitting the chairs. They wanted the other women to yell for them. Still, they reveled in voyeuristic delight. The young woman was nervous. She'd only seen Quynton's show once. She vaguely knew what she was supposed to do, but didn't know if it was actually real. Wasn't stuff such as that against the law? Did those women really suck Quynton's dick? Or was it an illusion? She wondered if she should do it. What would the other women think? Quynton positioned his body just right and took off the young woman's blindfold. As her eyes adjusted, they focused on an incredibly thick and hard dick not more than six inches from her lips. She instinctively reached out and grabbed it again. It was different this time, touching it, that is. She could see what she was grabbing now. The added sense washed away any thoughts she had of not wrapping her lips around it. Still she didn't her head forward. "Suck! Suck! Suck!" came yells from the audience. "It feels good doesn't it?" Monika yelled at the young woman. "Probably looks good, too! I know how you're feeling right now! Trust me, I do! Never thought you'd see a dick that looked so perfect did you! It's hard isn't it! You like its soft skin don't you! You're wondering why it looks so good and feels so good! You want to wrap your lips around it but you don't want to take your eyes off of it! Chica, I've been there! Let me tell you, it feels just as good in your mouth! And it feels even better in your – hey, you're probably feeling a little wet aren't you! Hahaha. Well, it feels great down there, too." Monika's words startled the young woman, bringing her out of the mini trance. The young woman had to admit, her panties collected ample amounts of her offerings. She was turned on. The crowd of yelling women turned her on. Being under the sheet turned her on. Holding Quynton's dick, knowing she was going to suck it turned her on. "Suck it! Suck it! Suck it!" came more yells. All the audience could see was the shadow of a two women sitting in chairs and one woman, possibly holding Quynton's dick. Quynton's head stuck out of the top of the sheet. He would occasionally grind his hips. Once or twice he eased back, taking his dick from the young woman's hand. The pumped his hips back and forth making his dick "jump" up and down. Quynton knew the audience women loved that, and he loved to hear them yell. Plus the young woman was being too hesitant. "Don't be afraid!" somebody shrieked. "It won't hurt you!" A gaggle of laughter ensued. "So show me some I.D. before I get knee deep into you," R. Kelly blared. "... I got what you want. You got what I need." Quynton knew he only had a few minutes remaining. Having seen the show so many times, Monika knew, too. "Move over!" Monika said almost shoving the young woman out of the way. "You're taking too long." Monika grabbed Quynton's dick firmly. Opened her mouth wide and impaled it on Quynton's dick. The audience saw the shadows movements and screamed. Monika kept taking more and more of Quynton's dick in her mouth. "Go! Go!" a woman yelled. "Take it all!" The audience started yelling, too. "Go! Go! Go!" Monika already knew she could take him all. It was a skill she acquired and mastered in South Beach. But she was as much of a show off as Quynton, so she prolonged the inevitable. And when her nose meshed with Quynton's pubic hair, the audience women went nuts. The young woman stared, mesmerized. "Yeah!" Quynton yelled. "That's my girl!" Monika briefly removed Quynton from her mouth and turned toward the young woman. "This is where you exit!" Monika said. "Honey, when you get something this good in your hands, you've got to act fast." Monika stuck out her tongue and simultaneously ushered the woman out of the sheet. Monika knew the audience could see the shadow of her tongue flipping back and forth over Quynton's dickhead. And it turned her on to know she was doing what many women in that audience wanted to do at that moment. Monika had always been brazen. But she took it to another level when she met Quynton. He matched, then exceeded Monika's daring. Monika reminisced as she sucked. There was the doggy style fuck, upstairs at Rumrunners in Key West. The people walking on Duval Street only saw a man and woman hugging. The people in the bar, wondered if they were really doing it. Hell, at Rumrunners that's a common occurrence anyway. There was the beach behind the Ritz Carlton in Naples, Florida. Monika was sure an old couple or two from the neighboring condos got an eye full. She straddled Quynton on the beach in South Beach while looking at a wet t-shirt contest at The Clevelander. She entertained a 100 truckers, almost causing a couple of accidents on I-95 North on a road trip to D.C. Her sucking intensified when she thought about D.C. and the sex on the National Mall at 2 a.m. Cars still whizzed by, and there was the occasional couple out for a stroll – or out to find their own special spot. But Monika was intoxicated by the thoughts that some FBI or CIA cameras were on them. Quynton touched a part of her that she knew was there, but never trusted with anybody. She trusted Quynton, probably too much. Still, Monika didn't care. She had a blast while they dated. Quynton's determined gyrations brought Monika back to reality. She knew it wouldn't be long. "Do it! Do it!" the audience screamed. And she did. Quynton threw back his head and uttered a primal grunt. Semen boiled up his shaft and erupted into Monika's waiting hands and some into her mouth. Quickly as she could, Monika coated Quynton's shaft with the mixture of his semen and her saliva. Two, three, four, five more thick ropes of his cum blasted forth, and Monika continued coating his shaft. "We want dick money!" the women yelled in unison over and over. Monika she started grabbing bills and wrapping them around Quynton's dick, sticking them to the semen. She stuck bills on his balls, on his thighs and anywhere she could detect flesh. Feeling she was finished covering him, Monika wiped her mouth on the sheet as she stood. Seeing this, Quynton pulled the sheet off his body and stood facing the audience with a still hard dick cover with various bills. He grabbed a black bag from the back of one of the chairs and started toward the crowd. The women grabbed more money from their purses and frantically waved the bills hoping Quynton would come their way. It was exchange time. The women would drop a bill in the bag and pull a bill of Quynton's body. This was Quynton's dick money. The women slowly peeled the bills off Quynton, every one of them taking liberties with extra gropes and caresses. Some got bold and tried to stroke Quynton. That usually started a few squabbles. But Quynton kept walking through the crowd. $20 for $20. $10 for $10. Then a firm a quick smack against his ass turned Quynton to face the woman who was standing next to Monika earlier. Yolanda held up two crisp $100 bills. She dropped the notes in Quynton's bag and began taking off the remainder of the bills. In a matter of moments, Quynton stood naked as the day he was born. Women crowded closer and closer. Those in the back stood on tables trying to see what was happening. Yolanda, never taking her eyes off Quynton grasped his dick and began slowly stoking it. She moved closer to him, looking at him, asking for a kiss with her eyes. Yolanda leaned over and kissed Quynton's navel. Then his stomach and his chest. She looked at his full lips and brought her face closer. Suddenly, the music blared. "SHAKE THAT ASS BITCH, AND LET ME SEE WHAT YOU GOT!!!" And simultaneously the club went dark. Several women screamed in surprise. But seconds later, the lights were back on and the yells turned to cheers for an encore. Quynton was gone. Yolanda stood there with a mixture of anger on her face and unsatisfied lust in her loins. "That's all right Yolo," Monika said, smiling and hugging her friend. "It's happened to a lot of us. There one second. You think you're going to feel his lips on yours. Then poof. Muthafucka is gone." "Don't give me that shit!" Yolanda yelled. "I'm the single one here, not you. But you got to taste, didn't you? Didn't you? Damn girl, I hate you." The two kept hugging a laughing. "Moni, just tell me this," Yolanda said. "He was good wasn't he? I felt him. He was big, thick, too. It felt good in your mouth, didn't it?" "Girl, I didn't do anything," Monika said. "You know those sheets and lights cast weird shadows and shit. He's all about illusions and shit. About making the audience think that something is going on." Yolanda wasn't buying it. "Girl please," Yolanda said, while reaching out to Monika's hair. "Sheets, lights, shadows my ass. If none of that was real, then you're probably not worried about this stuff in your hair, right?" Monika's hand shot to her head, feeling her hair. Yolanda laughed, hard. So did a couple of eavesdroppers standing nearby. Monika Can't Resist Him "Gotcha," Yolanda said. "All right ladies," the DJ said. "Here they come." And the club doors opened with a horde of men coming through, looking for a horny woman. Quynton made sure there were plenty tonight. But Quynton, who was standing by the DJ booth watching the scene, was concerned about only one of them. Monika Sanchez. "Actually, it's Braxwell," he thought, thinking about her married name. It'd been a while since he'd seen her. Tonight was a pleasant surprise, and he wanted to see more of her. Just as two guys whisked Yolanda to the dance floor, Quynton moved in behind Monika. He lightly traced his fingers up her arms, and Monika leaned her 5-foot 9-inch frame into his body. Monika was solid at 155 pounds. She played soccer in college and kept her body in playing shape with plenty of weight lifting and cardio exercise. He face had a cinnamon complexion, framed by long, curly, black hair. "Hei," Monika said, deeply inhaling. "Nice to know you're still wearing that." "You always had good tastes in cologne," Quynton said. "Thank you." "And you always wore it well." "I've missed you." "And," Monika said as she started to turn to face him. "There's so much of me to miss, too." "I'm sure your husband probably misses you tonight, too." "Oh, he's all right. He knows I'm out with my girl, showing her a good time. He's out right now, too, probably at a spot just like this." "What, you've been married four years now, and you're already out at strip clubs picking up dancers? That can't be healthy for a marriage." "My husband and I have our little quirks. And it's not like I do this or am tempted by every stripper out there. There's only one I'm interested in, and I'm looking at him." "Don't talk like that. You might have me believing I should be more than your sex toy." "OK, the mood is waning. Let's stop talking about my husband. He'll take care of his needs tonight. And I want to take care of mine. So, can you be my man tonight? You know, because my man takes care of my needs. Can you take care of my needs tonight?" "Let's go." Monika glanced at Yolanda who was the meat of a Yolanda sandwich. Her eyes were closed, and her hands roamed all over her partners. Monika walked to Yolanda and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Yolanda opened her eyes, saw Monika and winked. "Girl, be careful," Yolanda said. "He's fine and all, but remember you're married. Don't get carried away." "Don't worry about me," Monika said. "You gonna be all right." "Am I gonna be all right tonight fellas?" Yolanda asked her partners. Both men smiled. Yolanda did, too. Quynton waited by the door as Monika walked toward him. The two left the club and headed toward Melissa's car. "You look like you're in deep thought," Quynton said. "Just thinking," she said. "About what?" "Nothing in general." "Forget general. What about specifics?" "Well, I shouldn't have been thinking about it. But it gave me a slight tingle to think what my husband would do if he knew where I was right now and what was about to happen to me." "Like you said, he's probably doing the same thing. But if you're having reservations ..." "Shut up. I've already had your dick in my mouth tonight. Now I want it in my pussy. And unless you can't get it up again..." "Ahh on with the jokes and shit. When have you ever known me to not ..." "Well there was that time in..." "Oh fuck you. How many men can perform 30 minutes after getting tasered by a trigger-happy rookie cop? Hell we had only been dating a few month's then anyway. The pussy was still new. So I know I was getting it up then." "Oh, so I'm old pussy now?" "You know what I'm talking about. Hell, I'll just call you forbidden pussy now. There's excitement in that, too." "Has anybody ever told you that, with your words, you have an amazing ability to make a woman feel incredibly ordinary." "I guess I'm glad my body talks more than my mouth." "Right here, this is me." "Damn, nice ride. 2004 or 2005?" "2005 five. Hubby let me pick it up today." "This the Range, right?" "Yeah, it's a Range Rover." "Nice. Maybe I need to get me hubby, too." "Fuck you." "That's what I plan to do, fuck you." Quynton pinned Monika against the passenger door of the SUV and started kissing her. "At least ... let's get in ... the truck ...," Monika said between lip locks and fishing for the remote. "No, I want to do it right here," Quynton said. Monika knew he was serious. She looked around. She was parked far enough away from the club that the lights were not glaring. It was 12:45 a.m., and they saw the occasional person walking from the far lot to the club. There was a line of men and a few women waiting to get in the club, too. There was a car next to them. She knew it blocked their lower bodies, but anybody looking hard enough would easily be able to tell what the two were doing. And that excited the hell out of Monika. "You want it?" Monika said. "If you do, then fuck this foreplay bullshit." Monika pulled off her pants. Turned, spread her legs and put her hands against the SUV as if she were about to be frisked. "Uh Uh," Quynton said shaking his head and turning Monika back around. "I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want to see your eyes as my dick slides in you. Now come here. ...Yeah, gimme that leg ... yeah, now the other one ... that's it ... put your back against the truck ... NO! Don't look down. Look at me. Open your eyes. And keep them right here. Right on me. Right on my eyes." Quynton entered Monika with one controlled but determined stroke. Monika gasped, and her eyes grew wide. She wanted to kiss him, but he wouldn't let her. The first couple of minutes Quynton was slow and steady with his stokes. He changed to slow deep strokes, then fast deep strokes. All the while, the two never lost eye contact. When they dated, Monika hated and loved this game. Nothing had changed. She wanted to touch but couldn't. She wanted to kiss but couldn't. She wanted to look down at their junction but couldn't. The overall sensory depravation only increased the senses in her pussy. She felt his every ridge, every vein. His rhythms drove her crazy. In. Out. In. Out. In. In even more. Out. ... In. Out. In. Out. In. In even more. Out ... In. Out. In. Out. In. In even more. Out . Every extra deep thrust felt like Quynton was bottoming out. Monika loved it deep. She yearned for the feel of is pubic hair rubbing against her bare mound. It's how fucking was meant to be – deep sensations radiating from who knows where throughout her body and surfacing on her skin in the form of a million little goose bumps. Quynton noticed the goose bumps, too. "Don't you close your eyes when you cum," he said, knowing the goose bumps meant Monika was nearing a climax. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep looking at me." Quynton was happy she was close, because he was, too. Rare were the times he could last longer than 15 minutes with Monika. Her pussy was just too tight, and her pussy muscle control was too good. Monika gave as good as she got. She milked Quynton's dick. Squeezing him, starting from his dick head down to his base and back up. Monika's head started to turn slightly and her eyes got heavy. "Please," Monika said as she reached out put a hand on either side Quynton's face. "Be my man tonight. Put in deeper. Deeper. Oh, let me cum. Please. Deeper. Be my man tonight. Cum with me." Monika gritted her teeth and groaned. She squeezed Quynton's face harder and harder. Her head and arms began to vibrate. She pushed her torso off the truck, trying to get even more of Quynton inside her. Quynton pushed back. Like Monika, Quynton passed the point of no return. He felt his semen coming up his shaft. "One," he moaned as the first spurt of fluid left his dick mixing with Monika's secretions. "Two. Three. Four. Five. Six." "Oh my God," Monika said. "Keep it there. Right there." Monika's involuntary contractions continued, squeezing more semen out of Quynton with each one. "Kiss me now," she said. And he did. "Oh Quynton," she said coming down from her orgasm. "Why are you so fucking sexy? Why do you turn me on so fucking much? This a crazy." "What's crazy" he said. "Just the way I feel. It's crazy. It's amazing. No. Don't move just yet. Keep it there. I want to make sure the cum does its job." "Ms. Braxwell, if I'm not mistaken, are you trying to get pregnant by me? I mean, what would your husband say if he knew you had my dick inside you, holding in all of my baby-making sperm, making sure they get their chance to fertilize you? Huh? What will your husband do if he finds out." "Well, Mr. Braxwell, when we get home, you can look in the mirror and ask him. I'm sure he'll be happy. He already has a 3-year-old son, and I think Tyven needs a playmate." Quynton let Monika's legs slowly descend to the ground. His dick slipped out, but not before Monika opened the door and grabbed a towel from the glove box. "You came prepared," Quynton said. "Your damned Boy Scout motto kind of stuck with me." Quynton turned Monika around again and kissed her. "That's it," he said as he bent to grab her pants. "No more." "You're done!" she screamed and jumped into his arms again. Quynton was done. No more trips. No more three and four weeks away from Monika their son five or six times a year. Quynton's business was set. He had good people working for him. Actually Quynton's business ventures were set two years ago, but he was particular about everything. Quynton was the sole owner of 145 upscale strip/nightclubs in 22 countries. He'd just come from opening clubs in Barcelona, Munich, Nice, Milan, Heidelberg, Tokyo and Melbourne. His Stanford MBA came is handy as he owned more than 40 clubs before he met Monika. He actually bought the club he danced in the night they met. Quynton was a self-made multi-millionaire – with a kink for exhibitionism. He danced for the thrill, and since he and Monika married four years ago, he only did it at the first club he bought almost 15 years ago as a 21-year-old with a little money and a lot of ambition. Quynton didn't dance that often anymore, only when he was sure Monika would be there. Other women could touch. That excited Monika. But only Monika could taste. Only Monika could love him. "How's my little man?" Quynton said, setting Monika down again. "Tyven is fine," Monika said. "Maddie always takes good care of him." "How much are we paying her again? Probably too much." "Quynton, please. She's a good nanny. Plus, when I told her you were coming home tonight and I was supposed to meet you her. She gave me a wink and told me to take the whole night if I wanted to. And that's what I plan to do." "What about your friend?" "Yolanda? Oh, she'll be fine. And you get to meet her Sunday, too. We're having a bar-b-que at the beach house." "So what now, where are we going?" "Now, we find our own beach, one populated by voyeurs, and they can watch you and make sure you've fucked another baby into me." "I kind of like that idea."