weeknights. Leah made that just for screwing the guy. One night…and she enjoyed it.
“His cock was magnificent. It was like he had coke-dick or something. He just kept going and going. Took him forever to bust a nut. Not that I’m complaining. The longer he went, the more I came.” she grins. “I love twenty-four-year-olds.”
“You’re only twenty-nine.” I tell her. I don’t comment on the whole ‘coke-dick’ comment. Never even heard of that.
“My experience makes me feel way older.” she explains.
I know what she means. I don’t feel twenty-two. I feel much older. At twenty- two, I’m supposed to be young and carefree. I was never that.
Cameron
It’s late when I get there, but I couldn’t stay away. I had to see her again. Just one more time. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I just couldn’t keep listening to Rhys brag about how much fun he had and not go back.
I follow the hostess across the room, scanning it for any sign of her. It’s crowded tonight. She’s not on the stage. A blonde is up there. I keep looking. Where is she?
I take a seat in the chair the hostess indicates, but my eyes continue to peruse the room. I order a scotch from the waitress when she comes by. I feel myself growing disappointed. Maybe she isn’t working tonight. Maybe I came here for nothing.
A flash of red catches my eye and I see her. She walks out wearing a silky negligee, garters, and heels. Black sheer stockings cover her long legs and my fingers twitch to unhook the garters and peel those stockings down her legs. Men immediately start flocking toward her. I finish my scotch and head her way.
“I’d like a private dance.”
Her green eyes meet mine and her lips part in surprise. She licks them and swallows without speaking a word. She walks towards the private rooms and I fall into step behind her.
We walk past several rooms with closed doors. I know those must be occupied. When we come to an empty room with an open door, she walks inside. The room is dimly lit with a large white leather chair seated in front of a stripper pole. There’s a table off to the side adorned with accessories. Feather boa, leather whip, handcuffs, blindfold. A sign on the wall states the rule that she can touch me, but under no circumstances can I touch her.
She motions for me to sit in the chair so I do. She steps near the table and takes her heels off. I hear music start to play, but I don’t recognize the song. Doesn’t
matter because she’s moving now. I rest my arms on the sides of the chair and remind myself not to touch her. Despite how badly I want to.
She comes to stand between my legs and her fingertips grip the bottom of the negligee. My fingertips grip the leather of the chair as she slowly pulls it up and over her head. She’s encased in black lace again. She rests one leg on my chest and her hand goes to her garter. She pops the stocking free and rolls it over her leg and off her foot. She does the same with the other leg.
When she straddles my lap, I’m certain she can feel my straining erection. I’m wearing slacks and it’s not easy to conceal it. She doesn’t sit all the way down though. I guess she knows not to do that. She’s close enough though.
I wonder what she’d think if I took control of this situation and bent her over this chair? I snap myself from that thought when her tits graze over my shirt. Don’t touch her. Her lips are just inches from mine as she moves over me. Don’t touch her. Then she stands up. I want to pull her back down. Don’t touch her.
She walks over to the table and picks up the handcuffs. When she comes back, she takes my hand and tugs. I stand up, not bothering to try to hide the bulge in my pants. She turns me until my back is against the pole and she cuffs both of my wrists behind me. I tug, but I’m securely fastened to the pole. Fuck me.
She places her hands on my hips and moves down my body. I’m rock hard by the time she moves
“His cock was magnificent. It was like he had coke-dick or something. He just kept going and going. Took him forever to bust a nut. Not that I’m complaining. The longer he went, the more I came.” she grins. “I love twenty-four-year-olds.”
“You’re only twenty-nine.” I tell her. I don’t comment on the whole ‘coke-dick’ comment. Never even heard of that.
“My experience makes me feel way older.” she explains.
I know what she means. I don’t feel twenty-two. I feel much older. At twenty- two, I’m supposed to be young and carefree. I was never that.
Cameron
It’s late when I get there, but I couldn’t stay away. I had to see her again. Just one more time. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I just couldn’t keep listening to Rhys brag about how much fun he had and not go back.
I follow the hostess across the room, scanning it for any sign of her. It’s crowded tonight. She’s not on the stage. A blonde is up there. I keep looking. Where is she?
I take a seat in the chair the hostess indicates, but my eyes continue to peruse the room. I order a scotch from the waitress when she comes by. I feel myself growing disappointed. Maybe she isn’t working tonight. Maybe I came here for nothing.
A flash of red catches my eye and I see her. She walks out wearing a silky negligee, garters, and heels. Black sheer stockings cover her long legs and my fingers twitch to unhook the garters and peel those stockings down her legs. Men immediately start flocking toward her. I finish my scotch and head her way.
“I’d like a private dance.”
Her green eyes meet mine and her lips part in surprise. She licks them and swallows without speaking a word. She walks towards the private rooms and I fall into step behind her.
We walk past several rooms with closed doors. I know those must be occupied. When we come to an empty room with an open door, she walks inside. The room is dimly lit with a large white leather chair seated in front of a stripper pole. There’s a table off to the side adorned with accessories. Feather boa, leather whip, handcuffs, blindfold. A sign on the wall states the rule that she can touch me, but under no circumstances can I touch her.
She motions for me to sit in the chair so I do. She steps near the table and takes her heels off. I hear music start to play, but I don’t recognize the song. Doesn’t
matter because she’s moving now. I rest my arms on the sides of the chair and remind myself not to touch her. Despite how badly I want to.
She comes to stand between my legs and her fingertips grip the bottom of the negligee. My fingertips grip the leather of the chair as she slowly pulls it up and over her head. She’s encased in black lace again. She rests one leg on my chest and her hand goes to her garter. She pops the stocking free and rolls it over her leg and off her foot. She does the same with the other leg.
When she straddles my lap, I’m certain she can feel my straining erection. I’m wearing slacks and it’s not easy to conceal it. She doesn’t sit all the way down though. I guess she knows not to do that. She’s close enough though.
I wonder what she’d think if I took control of this situation and bent her over this chair? I snap myself from that thought when her tits graze over my shirt. Don’t touch her. Her lips are just inches from mine as she moves over me. Don’t touch her. Then she stands up. I want to pull her back down. Don’t touch her.
She walks over to the table and picks up the handcuffs. When she comes back, she takes my hand and tugs. I stand up, not bothering to try to hide the bulge in my pants. She turns me until my back is against the pole and she cuffs both of my wrists behind me. I tug, but I’m securely fastened to the pole. Fuck me.
She places her hands on my hips and moves down my body. I’m rock hard by the time she moves
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