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When I finally get the zipper pulled down, I shimmy out of the tight dress and let it fall to the floor. Gulping down the lump that formed in my throat, I stand before this stranger in nothing but my bra, thong, and high heels.
He rakes his gaze up and down my body slowly, almost like he is mapping every square inch of me. Even in the dim light and with his eyes hooded, I don’t miss how his pupils are dilated and his hands twitch with anticipation.
Reaching back once more, I unclasp my bra. My boobs spill out, and I can’t help but gasp at the way they feel heavier than usual. My nipples are tight, and there is an odd tingling sensation.
“Keep moving,” he orders, making me realize I had stopped in the first place.
I continue rolling my hips, hyper aware of how my unrestrained tits sway with every small move I make.
My mouth goes dry, and a knot forms in the depth of my stomach as I lower my eyes briefly and catch sight of the massive bulge in his slacks.
A low chuckle fills the space, and I drag my eyes back up to his. Amusement flickers in his dark gaze, but is quickly lost in the sea of desire… desire for me.
Working at Purgatory meant I quickly got used to men ogling me with lustful eyes. But nothing has ever felt like this. Something is different about this guy. A darkness surrounds him like a thick cloak hiding him in the shadows.
He is an enigma, and something about that mystery has me intrigued. Maybe that’s why I decided to take him up on his offer when I’ve turned so many down. That or the fact that I really need that money more than ever.
“I’m losing patience. Get rid of your panties, and let me see that pussy you’re hiding.”
Taking a deep breath, I dip my fingers into the waistband and push down the thin material. Cool air washes over my shaved pussy while my face feels like it has turned fifty shades of red.
My thong joins my dress and bra on the floor, leaving me standing in front of this stranger completely bare. No guy has ever seen me naked before. No one except him—a man I don’t know.
I fight the urges to cover up while forcing myself to keep dancing. Uncertainty worms its way through my body. This was a mistake. I have no idea what I am doing here since I’ve never done anything like it.
I’m about to tell him the truth, but the thought of not getting the money has me pressing my lips together tightly.
“Remember what I want you to do next?” he suddenly asks.
I nod, chewing on my bottom lip nervously before opening my mouth. “I want you…” I start with good intentions but choke on the last few words.
“Go on, beg for my cock. Say the words, sugar.”
“I want your… cock.”
“I like how you play innocent”—he smirks—“as if you never had a cock in your mouth before.”
God, he has no idea how much I’m not playing.
“Where do you want my cock?”
I swallow, and my tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth because there is no saliva left. It’s so fucking dry, I can barely speak.
“I don’t know. Wherever you want to put it.”
With a loud groan, he tips his head back. “Fuck, my dick is so hard for you. Why don’t you get on your knees and get it out so you can see for yourself.”
Careful so as not to trip over my own two feet, I step out of the pile of discarded clothes and move between his legs. Lowering myself to the floor, I get on my knees in front of him.
Hesitantly, I reach for the zipper on his pants. Unable to avoid it, my fingers brush against his bulge, drawing another pained groan from his chest.
I pull the zipper down and undo the button. All that remains between me and his cock is the black fabric of his boxers. Dipping my finger into the waistband, I pull his boxers down, and his cock springs free.
It’s even bigger than I thought. Thick veins are corded around the shaft, the mushroom-looking head is an angry purple color, and there is a shiny wet spot at the very tip.
“I want your sweet lips wrapped around it.” His low and gravelly voice vibrates through my whole body.
Placing one hand on his knee, I lift my other one to his lap. He hisses when I wrap my fingers around the base of his shaft and lean in. I shift my weight, trying to scoot closer. The unforgiving cold concrete under my knees is a stark contrast to the warm and smooth skin of the dick in my hand.
“Open up, sugar.”
I do as he says and open my mouth. Sticking out my tongue, I press it to the underside of his cock and close my lips around the tip. He tastes like he smells… musky, like the earth, untamed and wild.
