The Spinning Wheel
By yoursandman
Chapter one
Hannah had finished a very long day.
Traveling for work had its perks, but this trip, to Willow Creek, Kansas, had been a slog.
Earlier, Hannah dragged herself from bed in the primal darkness of 4:30 am to drive her car all the way across the DC area to Dulles airport, and catch a flight to Denver. Then she had spent a few hours at Denver International eating really expensive, yet breathtakingly mediocre food, and searching for the secret alien compound that the conspiracy nuts claimed was hidden beneath the facility.
Disappointed to discover only another big, boring, sprawling airport, she was finally invited to board a plane with 15 seats, and fully four feet of head clearance, for the final leg to Hais Regional airport. Then it was just a quick ninety minute drive to Willow Creek, in a rental car that was somehow the same age as her second grader, but had the wear and tear of her second grader’s teacher, a woman who couldn’t when she’d reached retirement age.
The purpose of this journey was to meet with an important new potential client. Unfortunately, it was obvious within the first ten minutes that this meeting was a waste of time. The “client” was clearly just doing their due diligence, and had chosen someone else. This was a corporate pantomime, but Hannah would have preferred to play out this little scene with someone not quite as big a douchebag as the low level VP of whatever-the-fuck she’d been stuck with.
The hotel she checked into after that was fine, whatever, it wasn’t on fire, yay.
She changed out of her white silk button up shirt and her matching navy blue skirt and blazer, and into a pair of faded jeans, a snug shirt, and a light half-sweater. She didn’t want to hassle with a purse, so she just stuck a credit card, her drivers license, and the key card to her room in her pocket, and looked in the mirror.
Hannah looked pretty good. Her light brown hair was straight and shiny, her brown eyes big and friendly, and her body had almost returned to her pre-baby shape. She had a little tummy, and her breasts were small, but still pretty perky. The only indications that she was a married mom were the wedding ring on her hand and the slightly cynical look her face assumed while at rest.
Hannah was hungry, and she wanted a drink. She wanted all the drinks, and didn’t think driving back to the hotel in a strange town after getting loaded was a good idea, so she found herself walking along the main drag of Willow Creek. She ed a few little eating places, but none served booze. After a few minutes she came to a small cross street, and looking left saw what appeared to be a decent sized bar and grill called, “The Spinning Wheel”.
This was it, she was done looking. Whatever they were selling, Hannah was buying.
She pushed through the big wooden door and found a bar with a few tables, a dozen guests, and a pleasant atmosphere. Hannah chose a smaller table away from the bar, hoping to avoid male attention from the scattering of dudes perched there. She was married, and getting hit on by randos at a bar was annoying.
She had a beer, and some kind of grilled chicken sandwich that was pretty good, and she was feeling a little better. On her way to the bathroom she heard classic rock and the sound of conversations coming from behind a thick red curtain drawn across a doorway. After her trip to the restroom, Hannah gave in to her curiosity and pulled the drape aside to behold a small stage with two poles on it, in front of some tables. There was a dark haired woman in lingerie dancing for the 4 or 5 guys at the tables.
It was a strip club.
Hannah was so surprised by the unexpected activity she had discovered in the back of the building that she didn’t notice the bored-looking hostess just to her left.
“Come on in,” the hostess said, her elbows on the small podium she stood behind.
“Umm, I think I’m good.” Hannah replied.
“Ok,” said the hostess, “But just so you know, ladies drink free until 9.”
Hannah paused mid-retreat, and eyed the hostess suspiciously.
The hostess gestured vaguely toward the room, mostly empty, the only female in the room dancing half naked, “Not a lot of ladies here right now, and a drink’s a drink, right?”
Hannah had decided to drink too much tonight, and one beer was hardly anything. And Hannah liked free. And her husband would love hearing about how she drank in a dive strip t.
“Deal.” She said to the hostess, her evening plans sorted.
The hostess sat her at a table away from the guys and asked her what she was drinking.
“Wine, whatever color is open,” Hannah said.
A few moments later the bartender, a friendly, middle-aged lady in leggings and a sweater from the Target fall collection, dropped off a white wine.
Hannah took a sip of her wine and watched the young, 20-something dancer perform for the guys on the other side of the room. She was pretty, about 5′4″, long straight black hair and a lot of lean muscle tone. She was very thin, but clearly worked out. The guys were quietly putting dollar bills in her G string.
“Hi.” Hannah heard right beside her. She turned and was surprised to see that a young woman had somehow appeared next to her.
The young woman had big blue eyes, and her sweet face was framed by wavy, natural blonde hair that fell just past her almost bare shoulders. Her breasts were large for a woman with a waist as thin as hers, and her hips widened to give her a lovely curve. Instead of the traditional fancy, lacey lingerie worn by most club dancers, including the black haired dancer on the other side of the room, the young woman wore a nice bra and boy short panties. They matched, and were probably expensive, but were the kind of thing you wore under a nice dress, not to swing on a pole. The young woman was also glistening with a little bit of sweat, like she’d just finished a dance.
“Oh, hi,” answered Hannah, recovering from the initial surprise of finding the young woman standing a little too close to her.
The young woman started to move, dancing slowly and sensually for Hannah, still very close, and occasionally brushing against the outside of her leg.
“Oh,” Hannah said abruptly, “Ummm, I hadn’t thought of that. I…don’t have any dollar bills, or any cash at all actually…”
The young woman kept dancing, still very slowly. “It’s ok, you can tip me later.”
Hannah thought it would be rude to ask her to stop, so she kind of just sat there, awkwardly, trying to appreciate her…musicality? She was lovely, and she was very good at moving her body. She was graceful, and Hannah found herself enjoying it. She liked ballet, she loved seeing the dancers on those competition tv shows. This woman was gorgeous, and she was talented. It was artistic.
Isn’t that something her husband would say if he’d gone to a strip club on a business trip? Hannah sipped her wine in a toast to irony.
The young woman would occasionally lean forward, bringing her head and her chest closer to Hannah sitting attentively in her chair. Each time she did, Hannah found herself inhaling deeply. It was involuntary, she couldn’t keep herself from doing it, but she also anticipated it eagerly every time the young woman started to bend toward her. And each time she inhaled it felt really good. It wasn’t a scent, like perfume, but Hannah could feel it come into her when she breathed. And the young woman was so incredibly stunning. Hannah was finding herself more and more grateful to be receiving the gift of this incredible dance.
A song ended. Hannah had lost track of how many songs the young woman had danced through—three, four? But then the young woman sat lightly on Hannah’s leg and put her arm on Hannah’s shoulder, her hand touching Hannah’s hair. There was a long moment while the young woman stayed just like that, looking at Hannah, stroking little locks of the young mother’s hair. Finally the young woman said, “I’m Willow.”
“Willow,” Hannah said, looking back at the hopelessly beautiful young woman, “Like the…”
“Yes, like the town.” Willow interrupted, not harshly. “I would like to keep dancing for you, in the VIP area. Would you like that, too?”
Hannah couldn’t imagine how good it would be to keep breathing her in, keep feeling her touch, but she had a moment of clarity, “I don’t have any cash on me…”
Willow rose and stood, leaning a little against the inside of Hannah’s leg, “I’m sure you have a credit card.”
“Yes.” Hannah responded, eyes still fixed on the extremely beautiful woman standing before her.
Willow slowly extended her left hand, and Hannah worked the card out of her pocket and placed it in her palm. The young woman then took Hannah’s hand with her right and guided her up out of the chair. Leading Hannah slowly toward the bar, holding hands, Willow handed the card to the bartender as they ed her and went though an ordinary looking door beside the bar into a small private room with a couch. The lighting was low and the music that played was slower than the classic rock mix in the other room. It was all instrumental, and had a strong, heartbeat rhythm.
Willow backed Hannah up to the well-worn couch, and she dropped into it, a little off balance. Then Willow began to move once more, her hips gliding and her arms twisting slow circles in the air. She turned her back to Hannah and made her ass swing like a round, irresistible pendulum.
Hannah was dumbstruck. Willow was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and Hannah was warm deep inside with something, something that was in the air, that grew stronger the closer she came Willow.
The dancer sat on Hannah’s lap, and leaned back against her body, somehow still moving with the rhythm. Willow’s neck was now in Hannah’s face, and the wife and mother now experienced the full force of whatever was happening to her with each breath she took in the presence of this perfect woman.
The feeling of Willow against her body, her warmth, her smooth skin, Hannah wanted to hold her, bury her face in her neck, feel Willow’s blond hair fall across her face, lose herself in this.
“What’s your name?” Willow asked, seductively, her hand reaching behind Hannah’s head and stroking her hair.
Hannah was feeling dreamy, her lips found their way to Willow’s shoulder, and the taste of her soft skin consumed her, “Hannah,” she said between soft kisses.
“Hannah what?” The dancer asked, gently nuzzling her cheek against the woman who was brushing her lips over to Willow’s neck.
“Hannah Lynn Stewart,” Hannah answered, becoming very focused on how blissful it felt to nestle into Willow’s neck and feel the younger woman’s hair covering her face.
Willow smoothly reversed her position, and was now straddling Hannah.
“Where do you live?” Willow asked, her body swaying with the music astride the fascinated brunette. “Maryland,” she answered softly.
Placing her hands gently on Hannah’s shoulders, right where they curved upward to her neck, she slowly leaned forward, to softly brush against the young mother’s check, and breathe in her ear, “Where do you live?” She could feel Hannah tremble beneath her as the dancer’s breath touched her ear.
“1745 Buckingham Road, Frederick, Maryland, 21701.” Hannah exhaled, her body squirming with pleasure.
Willow drew her face back, briefly locked eyes with Hannah, and then leaned into her other ear, “ What do you do for a living?”
Hannah found her hands on the dancer’s tight waist, “I’m a VP of sales,” her mind was light, free, she felt dreamy.
Willow gently kissed Hannah’s neck, then whispered in her ear, “And how much money do they pay you?”
Hannah’s eyes closed as pleasure hit her in a wave, “Two hundred and sixty thousand,” Hannah gasped.
Willow straightened up again, still straddling Hannah, and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Pausing before showing her breasts to Hannah, she again made lingering eye and asked innocently, “Is there anything else you have to tell me?”
Hannah was transfixed, staring at Willow’s chest with desperate anticipation. Without any thoughts or hesitation she started speaking, “I’m married, his name is Tyler, my kids are 4 and 6…” As Hannah told Willow everything she could think of about herself, Willow was slowly unhooking and loosening her bra. Hannah’s confession was rewarded moment by moment as the dancer teased the top slowly off. Finally, as the bra slid down Willow’s arms Hannah’s voice trailed off and she stared, wanting, needing.
Willow’s breasts were round, soft, warm, her pale skin was unblemished, and they glistened slightly.
Hannah leaned forward, to kiss those perfect breasts, and Willow stopped her with a single finger against Hannah’s lips, halting her movement, and giving Hannah something to kiss instead, “I know,” Willow said with some sympathy, “ I know how it burns inside you, the aching need. But you can only look.”
Hannah wanted to bury her face in Willow’s breasts, breathe deeply, kiss them, adore them, suck on them. Her need was building, she had to…
Willow took her discarded bra and placed it against Hannah’s face. Hannah was thunderstruck by the effect it had on her. She grasped it, inhaling deeply, her eyes fluttering. It was almost like holding Willow in her arms, almost. She cuddled it, buried her face in it, and when at length she could find the presence of mind to look, she saw that Willow was gone.
The next morning Hannah awoke in her hotel room, still clutching Willow’s bra to her face, finding comfort and security in something that had been intimate with the woman that Hannah found herself thinking about obsessively. She had a vague memory of walking back to the hotel, Willow’s top held close to her face. She rose and went to the bathroom and thought about coffee, and her flight home later that day, and Willow.
She looked back at the bra laying on her pillow, and felt a pang in her stomach being away from it. She slowly walked back to it and the sense of Willow returned, her sexiness, the intoxication of her presence. Hannah moved as if in a dream, pulling her pajama top off, and putting on Willow’s bra. It was too big for her A cup breasts, but just wearing it was like being jolted with sexual energy. She felt awakened, like sex before this was in black and white, and now she could see in glorious color. She started dragging her crotch against the edge of the mattress, humping the hotel bed like a feral animal.
Her hands were stroking and fondling her breasts through the bra, Willow’s bra. Her mind was generating images of Willow, her eyes, her breasts, the wet spot on her panties as she had rubbed against Hannah’s leg. She conjured Willow in her mind as her hands found her pussy, swirling in her wetness, pressing the inside of her cunt, rubbing her clit faster and faster. She wanted to come, she wanted to come for Willow, the bra was damp with Hannah’s helpless heat. Mixing her own body with the scent of the woman filling her mind.
Hannah’s fingers became extensions of her lust, wet, slick, the smell of a woman’s sex filled the hotel room, and her mind played the same desires over and over again as she came.
For Willow.