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I sway my ass right in front of his face, knowing it looks full and juicy from behind, the tight material of the skirt stretched across the cheeks.
Adrik groans. I feel his fingers fumbling as he tucks another bill in the back of the skirt.
I face him again, leaning forward so he can get a look at the round tops of my breasts, shoved up sky-high by the one and only push-up bra I own. This bra is the definition of catfishing—it makes me look like I have double-Ds, like my tits are fake.
Adrik lets out a sound halfway between a rumble and a sigh, his eyes crawling over my breasts. He likes that they look like implants, it’s perfect for the stripper fantasy. He tucks a hundred-dollar bill between them, letting his fingers slide across the top of my breasts. His fingers are warm and heavy, and even the money feels sensual brushing against my skin with papery softness.
Each bill he pushes into my underwear gives me a pulse of pleasure. It’s a reward, and I’m highly motivated by rewards. I want more money. I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.
Stepping back, I slowly untie the front of my shirt, swaying to the music. Adrik is mesmerized, his eyes glinting like blue diamond. He shifts in the chair, his cock thick and swollen down the leg of his jeans.
I open my top like I’m unveiling a priceless work of art to his view.
“Fucking hell …”he breathes.
The shirt slides down my right arm, dropping to the floor. I get down on my knees, presenting my breasts to him, now only covered by the bra, holding my hands over my head and posing. I turn side to side, slowly, sensuously, sliding one hand lightly down the side of my neck and over my left breast. I run the tip of my middle finger up and down the place where the cup of my bra meets my breast, teasing him, watching his face to see his reaction.
“You like what you see, Daddy?” I murmur, in my softest baby girl voice.
“I fucking love it,” Adrik growls.
“You want to see more?”
“Yes.”
Adrik tucks another bill in the shoulder strap of my bra. I have money all over me now. Instead of feeling cheapened, I’m expensive and valuable. This man will pay anything for a peek at another inch of skin.
I lift the tie at my hip and put it in Adrik’s hand, inviting him to undo my skirt. He pulls at the bow, the flimsy skirt falling away from my hips. I’m in my bra and thong now, and the sky-high heels on which I can barely walk, let alone dance, but Adrik doesn’t notice any stumbles.
I turn around so he can get a good look at my ass, bisected by the string of the thong. I lean forward in a yoga pose, back arched, my bare cheeks presented to his view.
I’m understanding now why strippers dance and move and pose the way they do—it’s all about offering up body parts to the man for his approval. Adrik likes what he sees—he rains money down on me, a handful of bills thrown over my back and ass so they float around me like falling leaves.
I twerk my ass, I shake it for him shamelessly. He throws another handful of money. I feel rich, I feel stunning, I feel glorious …
Adrik leans forward. His hand brushes against my ass, furtively, like he knows he’s not supposed to do it—tucking more money into my thong in apology. It’s kinky as fuck that he’s not supposed to touch. Each contact of fingers against flesh feels forbidden and thrilling. I’m seducing him, and he can’t resist.
I roll over onto my back, giving him a quick flash as my legs pinwheel open and closed again. I lay on the floor in front of him, writhing with the music, rolling my hips. Pushing off against the stilettos, I lift my hips higher, enticing him to tuck more money in my thong.
He pushes bills into the waistband, and then more into the front. Money is filthy, I know that, but the dirtiness of it, the cash against my bare skin, arouses me. He lifts my panties higher than he needs to so he can get a glimpse beneath. The back of his hand grazes that forbidden delta under my thong. My underwear is soaked, sticking to my skin.
He’s Adrik, but he’s also a stranger. His face looks different, hard with lust. All I see is his clenched jaw and the rigid muscle beneath his tight black t-shirt.
I want to be closer to that body. I want to feel his heat against my flesh.
I unclasp my bra, facing away from him so all he sees is my bare back at first. Then I turn, hands covering my breasts. I peel my fingers away, unveiling my breasts like he’s never seen them before.
“Fucking spectacular,” he groans.
He holds up a wad of bills, beckoning me closer.
I straddle his lap, the heels so high that I can easily rest my feet on the floor. I take the money and put his face between my bare breasts, my hand cradling the back of his head. His body is on fire, his head burns against my palm and heat radiates from his chest. His cock presses against the damp material of my thong, his massive hands cradling my ass on both sides.
“Can I?” he says, opening his mouth.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He closes his mouth around my breast, sucking hard. I grind on his lap, sliding my pussy against the rigid rod of his cock, murmuring in his ear, “You gonna come see me every night, Daddy?”
