Cat Haus - The Complete Story (14 page)

In his current mood, seemingly all business, I wasn't sure he'd welcome that so I figured I'd better distract myself. Besides, in the old days during college when I'd actually watched television, I'd loved those home renovation shows.

"Adding on is an option, but first I'm having my contractor take a look at the space upstairs. See if it's a possibility for a small apartment."

I'd been upstairs. It was where we kept the Christmas and Valentines Day decorations—yes, hookers liked Christmas and Valentines Day too, just like everyone else. It was dark and dusty up there, but the ceilings were full height in the center before they sloped down to follow the roofline. It had potential.

I nodded. "It might work if you added a few skylights because there's only two windows, one at each end, and they're both kind of small. You'd want a full bathroom put in up there too. I'm not sure about running plumbing and stuff, but the contractor will know."

His smile stretched wide until it crinkled the corners of his eyes. "We're on exactly the same page, you and I. I'd discussed the possibility of skylights on the phone with the contractor. He's on his way here now." Glancing at his watch, he added, "If he hasn't arrived already for our meeting."

"Oh, okay. I'll let you go." I'd been dismissed, and without any of the fun I'd hoped for. "I guess I'll see you later."

He reached for the door and opened it for me. "I hope so."

John waited for me to walk ahead into the hall. He turned left into the office and I had the pleasure of walking into the parlor under the scrutiny of all the girls.

"That was quick." Tiffany pursed her lips and looked every bit the bitch she was. "Must not have been very good."

"He only wanted to talk. He has an appointment." I scowled, mostly at myself for giving Tiffany answers when she didn't deserve them.

"No man wants to just
talk
when I'm with him, but whatever." She looked away trying to be cocky but I knew the truth. She was jealous and, call me petty, I was enjoying it.

John didn't reappear. I could only assume the contractor had arrived and the men were crawling around in the attic, hopefully ignoring the tree ornament that depicted a naughty Santa doing Mrs. Claus from behind. And the naughty Rudolph. And the naughty Frosty. And the penis garland . . . Yeah, ours was a unique Christmas tree.

Enough time passed with no sign of John that I even took a stroll by the office. There I found Henry inside alone, working on the computer. He glanced up. "Need something?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." It was a lie, albeit a polite one.

What I really wanted to say was I needed John to fuck away this ache that seeing him had caused inside me.

I strutted back to the parlor, all dressed up and no one to do. What good were fuck-me heels if there were no men to fuck? I threw myself back against the sofa with a huff.

"What's wrong with you?" Sahara eyed me.

I mustered the incentive to tilt my head toward her, but not much more. "I'm bored and horny."

She smiled wide—oh to be so young and enthusiastic again. "All you had to do was ask."

I hadn't asked and she didn't wait for me to. Sahara got on her knees and spread my legs. With my eyes opened as wide as my legs, I asked, "Here?"

"Sure. Why not? The customers love this shit. And it's fun for us too." She winked.

As she pulled my bottoms down my legs and tossed them to me, she looked part angel, part devil. I had no doubt she was going to enjoy this. Once her thumbs spread my lower lips and her tongue connected with me, I couldn't argue that I would enjoy it too.

I was so needy I couldn't help myself. I got into it and blocked out the rest of the world. Sahara latched onto my clit and sucked hard enough to have my hips rising as I pressed harder against her mouth, seeking more. I wanted to come so badly I didn't care when I heard one of the girls and her customer come out of her room and into the parlor. Didn't give a crap when he let out a "holy shit" when he saw what Sahara and I were doing.

She slid one finger inside my pussy and I clenched around it. The sensation exploded through me. Spasm after spasm gripped my muscles for I didn't know how long.

I didn't open my eyes again until the last throb of my orgasm had ended and Sahara pulled back from me. That's when I saw John standing in the front hall, his focus pinned on me. I sat up and reached for my panties. I'd never been ashamed of anything I'd done. Not the girl on girl part. Not the fact we were out in the open. Why would I be? Things like this happened around here all the time. Sometimes because we were putting on a show for the customers. Sometimes because we felt like doing it, such as today.

The problem was, John wasn't around here all the time and he wasn't used to this kind of thing. I'm sure the secretaries didn't get down on their knees in the middle of a board meeting and start blowing the bosses in his world and I wasn't sure how he'd feel about this.

Then again, maybe it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was my boyfriend.

In the back of my mind I knew it did matter to me. He was going to be around more often and that gave me hope that I'd be seeing him more. And then it hit me—I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted John to be that boyfriend.

As I felt the color drain from my face at my realization I watched him and tried to gage his reaction. It was no wonder he'd beaten the pants off Gus and won the Cat Haus in a card game, because John had a poker face if ever I saw one. I couldn't tell if he was turned on or appalled, or maybe too distracted with business plans he'd barely registered what had been happening.

"Hottie boss was just looking this way," Sahara said as she plopped down on the cushion next to me.

"I saw."

"Wonder if he'd like a private show."

"Don't know." I swallowed hard, not wanting to share him. Not even with Sahara, and I genuinely liked her.

I'd never minded the idea of sharing any guy before John.

This wasn't good.

There was a lot of action in the front hallway as John stepped outside, his feelings about me and what he'd seen still a mystery, and a customer came in. My wallowing in my own sorrow would have to come to an end because I recognized the guy coming in as one of mine.

As he came into the parlor, Tiffany sashayed from the bar and into his path. Poor guy was not the most alpha of males. He glanced at me then at Tiffany, looking like he'd rather crawl under the carpet than see or speak to anyone on his way to the back.

I stood, knowing I needed to rescue him from her talons. "I got this one, Tiff."

"No, you don't." She shot me a glare.

"He's one of Cate's regulars, Tiffany." Sahara backed me up, not that it mattered to Tiffany. By the way she continued blocking his path to me, she needed to hear it from him directly.

Maybe this was good for him, making him stand up for himself. Kind of like therapy.

His blond brows drew low and I watched him visibly swallow as his gaze ping-ponged between Tiffany and me.
 
"I, uh, came to see Cate?"

"Fine." Tiffany let out a loud huff and spun toward the bar.

I nodded to my customer. "Shall we go in back?"

His eyes dropped to take in my lacy outfit. "Um, do you still . . . do that?"

He'd become my customer during my month of darkness, when I'd worn nothing but black and had an attitude to match. I'd come back to the light, but I could still muster my Domme attitude for him and give him what he was looking for.

"Come back and I'll show you." I knew he needed a strong hand. He craved domination and other things he wouldn't ask his wife for.

I'd encouraged him on the two other occasions he'd been here to discuss his needs with her. The fact he was here now told me he hadn't talked to his spouse. Though maybe he had and she'd been appalled by his request. Shit. I needed to find out. More, I needed to stop giving marriage and love advice. I was qualified to fuck, not give this guy a counseling session.

I closed the door of my room behind us and turned to him, my arms crossed over my chest and a stern expression on my face. I'd keep up the persona he wanted from me, even as on the inside I was cringing that I might have somehow fucked up his marriage. Hell, his whole life even.

"You talk to your wife yet?"

His gaze dropped. "No."

Phew. I was off the hook. "All right. I'll give you what you want even though you didn't do as I asked."

"Thank you." His eyes stayed on the floor.

"You have the money?"

He nodded and fumbled in his pocket for the cash, and then handed it to me.

I made a show of counting it, as if I didn't trust him. The reality was this guy wasn't the type to try and shortchange me, but it made me look like more of a hard ass to check it.

"All right. It's all here. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

Moving toward the bed, he started to work on his belt. I had a belt of my own to work on—my strap-on harness. You see, this guy didn't just like to be told what to do. He also liked to be fucked in the ass. Oh, he wasn't gay. He didn't want a man doing it. He wanted a woman doing it. Me in particular. At least that's how it had been for three weeks in a row.

I could only assume he waited to get his paycheck, took out the cash and came here, because it was always on the same day. This guy seemed like the kind who liked a schedule, but I wouldn’t think that his need for a good ass reaming would hit him on exactly the same day every week. I was going to stick with the payday assumption.

I chose a small dildo to start. I'd move up from there to the biggest one. He could take it. I'd done it before. But for now, I'd tease him for a little while.

He wasn't a bad looking guy. Maybe forty. Still had his hair. Had a good set of teeth, though the only parts I could see of him right now as he kneeled on the bed were his white ass and his balls as they hung between his legs.

I pulled on a rubber glove, making sure he heard the
snap
of the latex. A visible shiver ran down his spine. I pumped the lube bottle on the table next to the bed. The cool clear liquid filled my palm. Trailing one gloved finger through the puddle in my hand, I scooped up a good bit and let it drip from my fingertip and into the crack of his ass. That sent another tremor through him.

"Look at this tight little hole." I ran my fingertip around the puckered ring of his anus. I circled him again before I pressed just the tip inside him. Not far. Just enough to tease. "I'm going to stretch this wide."

"Yes." He was already breathing harder.

"You touch yourself here when you're home alone?" I asked, as I pushed my finger deeper.

"No."

Hmm, that was interesting. I twisted my finger inside him. "Why not?"

"It feels wrong."

Him touching himself felt wrong, but his coming to a whorehouse to have me do it, didn't? This guy needed a little guidance. "Flip over."

He did, but looked confused. He'd soon figure it out.
 

"Pull your knees up."

He did.

"Now put your finger in your ass." I began to see how hard getting over this hurdle was for him. A deep frown drew his brows together. I took a step closer and reached for his cock, only semi-erect. It would be full tilt the moment I slid the dildo into him. I'd seen it happen. "Do it once for me, then I'll give you what you want."

I stroked his cock, slow and easy, more to soothe than to arouse. Looking frightened, he reached beneath himself and felt for his hole. The frown remained, deep and firm, as he penetrated himself for the first time.

"That's good. Just a little farther."

His swallow was so loud I could hear it from where I stood, but he did as I requested and pressed his finger in to the first knuckle.

"Good. Now wiggle it up just a little, like you're pressing up toward your belly button."

His intake of breath as he did it told me he'd found the spot I'd wanted him to. I stroked his length as it grew harder. "Does this feel good?"

"Yes." His answer was shaky, but I believed him, especially since I could see him rhythmically pressing his finger inside himself.

"Do you think you can do this at home by yourself?" I asked, wondering if he couldn't get off at all without anal stimulation. If that was the case and he wouldn't touch himself, as long as he refused to talk to his wife about his needs he'd be deprived—or have to visit me.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll do this at home."

I smiled at his answer. I was all for having a regular customer and guaranteed weekly income, but I'd be happier knowing he was a healthy, happy man at home. "Good. What me to fuck you now?"

His eyes widened as he withdrew his finger. "Yes, please."

I'd already lubed up the dildo, so I stepped between his bent knees and moved his feet so they rested on my shoulders. I lined my fake cock up with his hole and pressed gently forward.

He'd always been on his hands and knees for this before, so I'd never seen his face during it. I saw it now and his expression as I entered him said it all. Anticipation. Gratitude. Pure relief.