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I continue strolling around backstage, forcing myself to take it easy while observing details high and low. There’s a stack of gladiator helmets by the wall, as well as a pretend fire hydrant with a real hose attached. That must be for the fireman skit that the revue puts on. The guys literally hold the hose in front of their crotches and pretend like it’s a massive dick as they spray the women. Again, the female audience loves it and practically cream their panties while screaming with joy. It’s a winner, for sure.
But then, the tinny sound of music makes my ears perk, and I stop. Is someone else here? Maybe it’s just a night guard with their radio on a little too loud.
I turn to leave, but then a steady bass hits my ears and I realize this isn’t a radio. Someone’s blasting a boombox, and it’s coming from further down the hall. With a furrow in my brow, I slowly wander in that direction as the bass thumps louder and louder, practically shaking the walls now. Who the hell is doing that? Thunder Strike has long since wrapped up for the night, so this place should be empty.
Finally, my feet come to a halt in front of the door of a practice studio. What the hell is going on? Are they doing a conga line in here? Annoyed, I push open the door and peek inside. At first, it looks empty, but then I see a young woman gyrating about, her curves flashing in the mirrors as she spins in a sexy circle.
But even crazier, this isn’t modern dance, ballet, or tap. This woman’s doing a sexy striptease, and my eyes widen as slowly, she slinks her top off her shoulders, letting the fabric drop to the ground. She’s got huge tits that bounce, and with a secret smile, the girl shimmies her shoulders before slowly pushing the straps of her bra down. Then, the woman unbuckles the back and the skimpy lingerie drops to the floor.
Oh shit. She’s gorgeous and those breasts are creamy and full, at least Double D’s. They jiggle enticingly, the pink nipples making my mouth water as the woman sways this way and that, the ivory orbs moving along with her.
But then, the woman does me one better. She reaches down and catches a big breast in her hand before lifting it to her mouth and licking the nipple. I almost come in my pants because shit, she’s dirty, and I’d love to get a taste myself. But then with a giggle, she starts dancing again, this time, unbuttoning the waistband of her skirt and slowly letting the gauzy material fall to the ground as well. The beautiful woman’s wearing only a thong beneath the material and she wiggles her hips again, making those big buttocks jounce up and down.
Oh shit, oh shit. I’m going to cream in my pants, and as if she can read my mind, the woman turns her back to me before parting her legs in a v-stance. Then she bends over slowly, running her hands down her outer thighs all the way down to her calves before coming back up again. With a sly smirk, she smacks one big buttock, the loud crack audible even over the music. Goddamn, who is she?
But the gorgeous brunette isn’t done yet. Slowly, she gyrates her hips, running her fingers along her narrow waist before bending over once more and pulling the back of her thong up tight so that the string is buried dirtily in her rear end. Then, with a faux-surprised look, she plucks it out of her ass and straps the material over one big buttock so that I get a clear view of that pink rosebud, the pleats tight and aromatic.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Is she going to do it? Indeed, the brunette does. She bends over again, this time pulling her cheeks apart so that I can see everything, from that steaming pussy slit to the tight drum of her ass. She’s gorgeous with those thick thighs, and as I watch, both holes wink at me, as if begging to be loved and stroked. But then, the woman sees me. She’s literally bent over with her head between her legs, looking at me upside down when she catches sight of my massive form. Then those eyes go wide and she lets out a screech of horror.
“Aieeee! Who are you?” she shrieks before snapping back up, those brown curls bouncing while scrabbling to shield those curves with her small palms. Of course, her efforts are futile because there’s too much flesh to hide, and at this point, I don’t even care if she sees my hard-on. After all, I own everything at the Corinthian, and that includes her.
3
TANYA
A bloodcurdling scream rips its way out of my throat as I stare at the shadowy figure at the doorway. Who is this pervert? How long has he been watching me? And why, oh why, didn’t I lock the door to the rehearsal room when I came in?
Because it’s 3 a.m., the voice in my head says dryly. You thought you were alone, Tanya.
But now, I’m regretting it because I’m stark naked, with my tits and pussy hanging out. I have one arm crossed over my breasts, but they’re huge and leaking out the top, sides, and bottom. My other hand cups my mound but from the smirk on the man’s face, I can tell that it’s useless. He’s already seen everything given that I just had my legs spread, parting my cheeks for what I thought was an imaginary audience.
“Who are you?” I scream again. “Go away! Get out! This is private!”
The dark man merely chuckles, leaning against the door jamb like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Private, in what sense?”
I look at him, my eyes shooting flames.
“Private as in this is a private session, can’t you tell?” I belt out. “OMG, are you blind?”
He merely lets out another deep chuckle, as the smirk on his face deepens.
“I’m definitely not blind, and this definitely wasn’t private either. The door wasn’t even locked.”
Ugh, trust this guy to hit on my weak spot immediately.
“Yes, because I didn’t think that anyone was around!” I shriek, practically going hoarse from all the yelling already. “Can you just leave? Please?”
He chuckles again and steps into the rehearsal room then. My breath catches because oh god, he’s gorgeous. The man must be at least 6’4” with ink-black hair and blue eyes that gleam in the low lights. Not only that, but he’s built like a Greek god with broad shoulders, a sculpted chest underneath his work shirt, and long legs that look like tree-trunks. I melt a bit inside, even as I try even harder to cover myself.
“Here,” he says, grabbing my top and holding it out. “You look like you could use this.”
With a snort, I swipe it ungratefully before pressing the cloth to my chest. But it hardly does anything because there’s just too little fabric. I can tell by the way the cold air hits my hardened nipple that one of my breasts is still exposed and all I can do is cross one leg over the other in an attempt to cover my cunt.
“What the heck!” I scream again, anguished and totally turned on at once. This man seriously resembles James Bond (Sean Connery, not Daniel Craig) and it’s a little perverse that I’m attracted to him because what if he’s some dangerous pervert who wants to beat my head in? What if he wants to push me up against the wall and ravish me?
That would be nice, the voice in my head chimes. You haven’t gotten any in a long time, Tanya, especially from a man like this.
