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Anya dances off the stage and onto the floor, approaching me. Other men watch with envy.
“Would you like to go somewhere private?” she says in a sultry tone.
“Collect your money and meet me back there.” I motion toward one of the back rooms before giving Mikhail a nod. “Be smarter than this.”
Mikhail just watches Anya as she grabs her money and I head to the private room decorated in deep reds, blacks, and purples. A large bed dominates the space, which is soundproofed for even more privacy. I can’t even hear the moans and grunts from the other private rooms in here.
I sit on the bed, my legs wide, my hands clasped together. Anya enters, still naked except for her high heels. I don’t say a word as she kneels before me. I do stop her, though, when she tries undoing my pants.
“I want to fuck you,” I say. “Get on the bed.”
Her eyes light up, and she moves with remarkable elegance and quickness in her high heels. She lies down on her back and spreads her legs wide.
“No. On your knees. Away from me.”
She smiles as she gets into the correct position. I grab a condom from the bowl next to the bed. I have no desire to contract any sexual diseases. Besides, it’s a requirement that any man must use a condom when getting intimate with any of my girls. I don’t want to lose them to pregnancy or cause an outbreak of disease. If any man is caught not using a condom, I have no qualms about making him disappear forever.
I undo my pants and pull out my semi-erect cock. I stare at Anya’s ass for a moment, rubbing myself, getting harder. Once I’m ready, I slip on the condom, then grip her hips and enter her in one thrust. Anya moans like her life depends on it. Then I fuck her with all of my might.
Anya is a wildcat in bed. She knows how to make the best sounds to get me harder and how to move her body in conjunction with mine. She’s good; I’ll give her that.
But she’s still just my employee. One I like to fuck, yes, but nothing more.
I fuck her roughly, not holding back. I know she can take it.
My release hits me after a few minutes of fucking. Anya moans louder. Once I’m satisfied, I pull out of her. She drops down to the bed and rolls over, eyeing me up with a seductive look most men would dream of.
“Good for you?” she purrs, roaming her hands up and down her body.
“Yes. I expect it was good for you.”
She stretches. “Fuck yes. You’re the best lover I have.”
A sudden anger goes over me, and I lean down and grip her jaw, startling. “I’m not your lover, Anya. I’m your boss. Don’t get it confused. We’re not in a relationship. I just like to fuck you on occasion. I also do the same to the other women here. Don’t think you’re any more special than any of the others. You hear me?”
Her eyes are wide as she nods.
“Good.” As I let her go, she slumps back onto the bed. “Now, go back out there and put on another show. You have more money to make, don’t you? Oh.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a hundred-dollar bill. “For you.” I toss it at her, and it lands on her stomach.
Anya looks like she wants to cry, but she takes the money and stands up. “I’m just your whore, then?”
“You’ve never been anything other than that.” I leave her there as I walk out of the room.
The rest of the evening passes by uneventfully. Anya does another show, but she doesn’t quite give me the same attention as before though she still passes me looks. She can’t help herself. Mikhail has left, probably to inform Rossi of the news. Everything is as it should be.
I have to force out the last customer because he wants to see Stacey dance some more, but I push him out the door, where he lands on his ass. Not my problem. I shut the door behind me and turn to face my girls, who are all lined up, fully clothed.
“Count your tips and inform Roger of how much you earned tonight.” Roger handles the club’s financials. “You ladies are free to go.”
They all murmur to each other as they head to the bar to count their tips.
I only leave once everyone else has gone.
Sammy, the club’s bouncer, opens the front door and calls out to me. “Hey, boss. There’s someone here who says he needs to talk to you.”
I sigh. “Who is it?”
“Grigor Ivanov.”
