Undone (Club V Book 2)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Submit
STALK GISELE
Other Books by Gisele
Undone
Club V
By:
GISELE ST.CLAIRE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2017 By: Gisele St.Claire
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Gisele St.Claire holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Chapter 1
I grabbed a rag from the hook and wiped the grease from my hands on the grubby scrap of fabric. With the back of my forearm, I swept the sweat from my brow to keep it from running into my eyes and stinging. The doors to the garage were open and letting in a little breeze, but in the summer heat, it wasn’t doing much to cool the place down.
I looked up at the clock on the wall; just above the tattered calendar featuring Miss March that one of my dad’s employees had put up years ago and never taken down. Apparently, everyone had been so pleased with Miss March’s appearance that they were content to let her reside at Dawson Brother’s Garage for the last ten years. It was ten ’til five and still, there were three cars in the bays and I knew I wouldn’t be getting out of there for hours. My dad needed me and I hated to leave early especially on days when there weren’t many other guys working in the garage. The business was successful, but like so many things it had taken a hit when the economy was bad. People usually still kept up their car maintenance, but they would often wait just a little longer between oil changes or maybe not come in at the first sign of trouble. This typically ended up being more work for us however it wasn’t the kind we wanted. My dad was all about keeping up with your car and I had learned from him.
“If you want it to purr like a kitten, you gotta rub behind its ears from time to time,” he often said to me. I had heard him repeat it more times than I could count to various customers over the years. Since my mother had passed away giving birth to me, I had spent all of my time with my dad. We had a connection that seemed pretty different than the ones between my contemporaries and their parents, in part because I spent all of my time with my dad, but also because he respected me as an equal in the garage.
He had done what he could from the time I was very small to teach me everything he knew about what went on under the hood of a car. By the time I was ten years old I could hear a slipped timing belt from a mile away. As I got older I spent more and more time in the garage, spending my days after school in the midst of all the exhaust and oil pans. It was good pocket money that I spent on time out with friends and I had been able to put a little aside. Once graduation rolled around and I was able to work full-time, I was easily my dad’s best employee.
I glanced over at Rodrigo who was currently on his back under a Mustang that really needed a new paint job. Seeing his thick, muscular thighs sticking out from underneath the vehicle made me think of the few times we had messed around in the backroom and the one time I had lured him upstairs on my eighteenth birthday. Rodrigo was a hell of a guy, but he worked here and it was clear that there was nothing between us other than sexual chemistry. And if my dad ever caught wind of what had happened between Rodrigo and me…well, I didn’t dare think of what the consequences would be for the guy.
Being an only child was one thing. Being the only daughter to a single dad who had raised me alone from day one was an entirely different ballgame. Nothing was ever simple. While he trusted me and my judgement in general, he didn’t trust the world outside of the garage, least of all any boys who might come along and break my heart. I had dated a little here and there, but most of the guys I went to school with were so terrified of my dad it was hardly worth putting in the work just to get them to go out on a date with me. I had somehow managed prom without too much drama, but ever since high school ended a year before, I had been in a pretty big dry spell. It was something that bothered me a little, even though I knew I could have sex whenever and with whomever I wanted, all I had to do was say the word.
There were the guys who came in with their souped-up sports cars, the ones who raced on the weekends, and those who had inherited something from a distant relative. This last group rarely had a clue what was going on with their car and they were usually the most impressed by my talent under the hood. There had been plenty of them that I could have lured back into one of the storage closets and had my way with, but I had been a virgin for so long, I wasn’t going to waste it on one of these little trust fund shits who could barely keep their dicks in their pants when they caught their first glimpse of me in my overalls and tight tank top.
I saw them all as they gazed like lechers at my 36C tits, barely contained by my bra and tank. My favorite tanks to wear were the low-cut ones so that I could be sure to let a little of the lace from my bra peek out over the top. Always a contrasting color to whatever tank I was wearing. It drew more attention that way— not that I was struggling to catch their eyes. It was obvious that these guys were panting for it and would do literally anything to get into my pants, or at the very least get a good look at what was hiding underneath my hood. I’d seen more than one of them have to adjust himself in my presence when he thought I wasn’t looking. There had even been one who was bold enough to lick his lips, close the space between us, and breathe softly against my neck, letting me know in no uncertain terms what he wanted to do to me right then and there in his inherited 1961 Chrysler 300G Coupe. That one almost made me consider it, just because I was so fucking horny that particular afternoon, but I was pretty filthy in appearance, not just in my mind, and I passed on that opportunity. It didn’t stop me from grabbing my vibrator as soon as I got home and teasing my clit to an orgasm that made me moan and thrash against my bed.
“Fuck,” I said under my breath, feeling my pussy responding to the memory. I looked over at the clock again. I was going to have to go pretty soon anyway if I was going to make it home in time to shower, change, and get to Samantha’s workplace to pick her up. Club V was a bit of a hike to get to from our apartment, but I’d promised her a ride to spare her from the middle of the night commute back home. If I left just a few minutes early then I might have time to work out a little of this frustration.
My eyes fell to Miss March and her hands cupping her breasts, lifting them, making her nipples jut out toward the camera. She was hot as hell and if I didn’t get out of the garage soon I was going to be fingering myself behind a stack of tires while I pictured Miss March pressing those huge tits into her face. Not that I’m a dyke or anything but hey, I’m only human.
“Hey, Dad?” I said as I peeked into his office, eager to get out of the garage and back to my apartment as soon as possible.
“Hmm?” Monosyllabic responses were the norm from him.
“I’m heading out now. I’ve got to pick up Sam later.”
He nodded without looking up from a stack of invoices. “All right, Tay. See you tomorrow.”
I hurried out to my car and hopped inside once I made sure my backside wasn’t covered with grease. I had a shower and a waterproof vibe to get home to.
The shower knobs squeaked as I turned them and the pipes rattled beneath the walls of the ancient apartment building. It would take a good five minutes or so for the water to warm to a comfortable temperature and I stripped out of my clothes and shook out my hair, running a brush through it while I waited.
My long dark hair cascaded in gentle waves and the ends just barely grazed the tips of my perky breasts, nipples hardening as the air greeted them.
The full length mirror gave me a great view of my toned body. Standing just at 5’6”, I was the definition of average as far as numbers were concerned. I grinned at my reflection. I must have inherited some of this from my mother, I thought as I turned to take a look at my round, curvy ass. It was, without question, one of my greatest assets. Firm, but soft and curved, my hips flaring out from my small waist, I knew that my body was the kind that men fantasized about. Hell, women fantasized about me, too. I had run into several people—men and women alike—over the years in the garage and now that I was legal people didn’t hesitate to make their interest known when they were in close quarters with me.
I sighed. I could have absolutely anyone I wanted, and still, there was nothing on the radar for me. No matter how hard I looked, I wasn’t finding anyone out there that appealed to me. Sure there were guys who left me feeling horny and wet, fantasizing later about what it would feel like to have them plowing into me over the hood of their cars. But deep down, I knew that I wanted more. I wanted the first one to be special—not in some mushy, ‘it must be love’ kind of way. No, I wanted a good fuck. The kind that would set the bar high.
Turning, I looked at my breasts. Sitting high and round on my chest, my nipples were centered, the size of quarters, deep pink, and hard as the rocks, I collected from the beach in the summer. I scissored my nipples between my fingers and exhaled as I squeezed my legs together. Pinching my nipples between my thumb and forefingers, I watched myself in the mirror. It was hot and I was turning myself on even more at the sight. I was so ready to be fucked, but my vibrator was going to have to do.
With the steam now filling the bathroom, I knew that the water was warm enough and I stepped inside, pulling the curtain closed. I left the vibrator on the edge of the tub, telling myself that I had to get clean before I was going to let myself have this moment. It was enough to inspire me to get the hair washing and general scrub down over quickly. As my hands grazed over the top of my mound and then against my still hard nipples, I gasped at the electric feeling and reached for my favorite vibrator.
It was pink and gold, curved perfectly to cup me, with two little silicon fingers that slipped around my clitoris. It fit me like a glove and I had to use some restraint with it. I knew exactly where to place it to bring myself to orgasm in less than a minute, but I had a little extra time and I wanted to enjoy one of the rare moments where I had the apartment all to myself.
I turned it on to the first setting, the gentle buzzing hum echoing against the shower walls. Leaning back against the tile I closed my eyes and pinched my left nipple while guiding the vibrator against my clit with my other hand. Digging through the files I kept in my memory, I thought about one of the best porn scenes I had watched recently, one that was such a delicious tease it almost felt painful to watch. A gorgeous guy with a rock hard cock was on his back, being massaged sensuously by his girl. She teased around his penis for probably ten minutes before she finally touched it, touching her tongue to the tip. He almost jumped right off the bed when she did it, but he held back and in the end, it had paid off for him. All the while she was being eaten out by him eagerly as he panted and ached for her to take his dick in her mouth.
I wouldn’t have been able to hold back. His cock was long and thick and looked like a gorgeous sculpture. I imagined taking it deep in my mouth as my cunt slid right over the top of his tongue.
My back arched and I pressed the vibrator against me more firmly, turning up the speed one more notch. Not too high…no. That would be too quick.
I imagined his tongue dipping inside me, tasting how wet I was and drinking every drop of me in. Teasing me with his fingers and then slipping two of them into my pussy while his lips sucked my clit, making me moan. I switched to my right nipple and pulled on it, stretching it out slightly away from my body and then letting it go. Returning to it with warm, soapy fingers I kneaded and squeezed, feeling the glorious weight of it in my hand, the hard nipple pressed against my palm.
“Fuck me,” I moaned aloud. I had neighbors and the walls were thin, but I didn’t give a shit what they heard.
I turned up the vibe again, moving it in a pulsing rhythm against my clit. Yes, this was it. I was riding the wave that was going to take me to exactly the peak I wanted to reach. I could feel the warmth spreading between my legs, pooling down my thighs, spreading up the length of my spine. This one was going to be so good…
Clean and satisfied, I stepped out of the shower with a smile on my face and wrapped myself in a fresh towel. The mirror was too foggy to see anything, but I could tell how pleased I must look with myself.
“Who needs a man,” I said out loud to my fuzzy reflection as I grabbed a bottle of lotion and began applying the moisturizer to my slightly tanned skin.
But the truth was, I might. Well, I didn’t need a man, but the thought of having one around was kind of appealing. I had never had a serious boyfriend, thanks to my dad’s close involvement in my life. Sure, he had probably spared me a lot of heartache by scaring off the losers that I went to school with. But I couldn’t help wondering if by being spared all that heartache that I had also been kept from experiencing some things that were really crucial to growing up and having healthy, formative romantic experiences.
I towel dried my hair and ran a brush through it before pulling out the hair dryer to finish the job. I was lucky to have well-behaved, very manageable hair. It meant that I didn’t have to spend all day on it, which was good since my dad expected me to be at the garage at the crack of dawn every day. In the end, there was really no point in putting much into my appearance for a long day at the garage. It was all sweated off my face by around noon anyway.
Tonight I was heading to pick Samantha up though and I wanted to look my best. Not for Sam…hell no. She had seen me at my very worst and I knew I didn’t have to put on any kind of a show for her. We had been best friends since we were very young, back in elementary school. After high school we had decided to get an apartment together while she worked her way through college, paying her tuition through her newly acquired job at the very exclusive Club V.
I slipped into a tight pair of skinny jeans and a tight white tee, with a short sleeved black blazer over the top. I added a double strand onyx necklace and admired my reflection one last time as I applied mascara and a matte red lip. It wasn’t my normal look, but it didn’t hurt to change things up from time to time. And Club V was definitely the sort of place where I wanted to be looking my best. I’d probably grab a drink before Samantha was off work anyway and I would hate to prop myself up next to the bar looking sloppy.
Ready to go, I raced down the apartment stairs and out to my car where it was parked on the street. The drive didn’t take too long and before I knew it I was pulling up outside of Club V. Curt, one of the valets, recognized me from my many trips to pick up Sam and nodded his head, indicating that it was fine for me to park in the lot behind the large industrial building that was reserved for employees.
The lot was nearly full but I managed to find a spot and checking my lipstick one last time in the rearview mirror, I stepped out and headed to the back entrance. As soon as I opened the heavy door I was met with the throb of the bass from the music emanating from the main room and I made my way toward the bar of Club V.
Chapter 2
I knew what Club V was all about, so there was nothing I could see in the place that would surprise me, no matter how sexually inexperienced I was. The bar was set away from most of the major action on the floor, curving against one side of the l
arge main room. Across the way was one of the pools and I could see that I had wandered into the place on a very active night.
Couples were making out in every direction I looked, some engaged in more serious sexual play than others. I saw several girls walking the floor, looking for one of the single men to engage. Samantha had told me about the collared girls, what their collars meant and what they would do. I knew that to some it might sound like prostitution, but I had to admit that it didn’t sound like bad work if you could get it. Since I had such a solid setup at my dad’s garage I had never really had to worry about making money. I didn’t have a lot to spare, but I got to live the kind of life I wanted and I wasn’t sure what more I could ask for.
“Hey Taylor,” Celeste, the head bartender called over to me as she saw me round the corner from the private entrance. I shot her a smile and went to sit on one of the empty barstools.
“Busy night?” I asked as I hopped into the chair.
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Holy fucking hell,” she said, half under her breath. “Another one of those ads in a flight mag. We draw so many new people on nights like these. Samantha is working some of the private rooms because so many of these new folks chose those and the alcoves over joining me here at the bar. So I’ve been busy making drinks, but there haven’t been as many people here keeping me company tonight.”
“Nice to be busy, I suppose.”
She nodded. “Surprisingly though none of these newbies appear to be shy. They all jumped at it as soon as they were in the door.” She nodded over to a man on one of the couches in the corner who was face deep in the crotch of one of the collared girls.
“Jesus,” I said as I watched what was transpiring. While the man wasn’t the most attractive, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing with his tongue and the girl with the collar was clearly enjoying herself. That or she needed to be nominated for an Oscar, stat. Her head was thrown back and her hands were buried in his hair, holding him against her as he lapped at her cunt. Every few seconds she let out a mewling squeal. Even though I had just finished bringing myself to an intense orgasm less than an hour before, the sight of this in front of me left me a little breathless and wishing I could join in the fun.