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Christina
A black Mercedespulls into the valet lane and motions for me to approach. I walk towards the car wearing a tight red evening gown, red lipstick, red heels, and pair of silver earrings that drip off me like frosting melting off a hot slice of chocolatecake.
When I enter the backseat, I notice a man in his 30s sitting inside. He looks clean cut, and wears a nice suit. He smells faintly of sweet tobacco and oak. I give him a smile. "Well, aren't you handsome," I say, stroking my thigh to get him excited for the evening.. "What's yourname?"
"I'm Eric," the man says, and extends his hand. "Nice to meetyou."
"Where are we off to?" I ask, batting my lashes at him in a slightly flirtatious nod. I take his hand, though I wonder if it is not violation of the touching rule. I tell myself to think nothing of it. Carl didn’t touch me, but he was much of a nerd than Eric seems to be. What’s the harm in a handshake?
"We are off to have some fun," he replies with a smile.
The car drives down Las Vegas Blvd before entering the freeway. We drive down the freeway for a few exits before we come to our destination, Olympic Gardens. I’m not new to strip clubs—I worked at the Spearmint Rhino to get myself through college, but Olympic Gardens is a huge strip club housing various floors of dancers. It is definitely a notch above the Spearmint Rhino. I bought my breasts and an education with the money I earned twisting and grinding on men, but I hear that the women who work at Olympic Gardens have bought a whole lot more—luxury cars, homes, and designer goods.
I start to remember my nights dancing, and one night in particular—I wore a pair of clear light-up platform heels, had far too much to drink, lost my grip on the pole, and fell ass first into a man's shot of whiskey. There were embarrassing moments like this, and moments where I felt in total control, petting and purring into the necks of men, giving them the attention they craved, and pocketing more money in a single night than I knew what to dowith.
Eric and I walk up to one stage, and place money down. A woman, introduced as "Hot Wheels," takes the stage in roller skates. Twisting in circles and grabbing her tits, she begins to peel her clothes off. She jiggles her ass, spinning fast and stopping in sudden bursts in front of unsuspecting watchers. She gets down on her hands and knees, arching her back like a feisty cat. This girl has a unique brand of allure.
I find her entertaining, but Eric has his eyes on another dancer—a curvy blonde who twisted around the pole with sheer grace and what seemed like a lot of upper body strength. I know that I need to work hard to keep his attention tonight, so lean closer to him and ask him if he likes the athletic blonde, intending to say much filthier things.
"Shall we bring one of these girls back to the hotel room with us?" Eric asks, giving her a mischievous smile.
"Baby, the only woman you need is me," I answer, spreading my legs and showing him pussy.
I see his cock immediately hardening and watch as he begins to stroke it through his pants.
Eric sighs and looks at my pussy expectantly.
I look at the dancers on stage, and my eyes meet one and we shared a brief understanding look — we are in this for the money.
Not all the time,a voice inside of mysays.
I like being desired. I like men defiling my body. I like being aslut.
I slide my fingers through my pussy lips, delving inside to stroke my clit and my inner lips for just a moment before I sink themin.
Eric grips his cock tightly and groans.
“Let’s get back to the room,” Eric grunts, releasing his cock. He stands, and I pull my fingers from my pussy to followhim.
Back at Eric's hotel room, I peel off my dress.
Eric watches my every move while he yanks his cock free of his trousers.
I run my hands up and down my body and I walk in right in front of Eric. I put my leg up so that my pussy is directly in his face. I think about Mr. M, I think about David, and everything makes me so wet that the can see a line of my arousal dripping down my thighs.
He groans, clearly pleased, and I start to stroke my clit, moaning loudly. I start rubbing my tits with my free hand, and move back just a little so that when Eric is ready to blow his load, he spray get me without deciding to ram his cock up my pussy, which is no longer on to the table for clients. Well, most clients. Thinking about Mr. M sends a shiver up my spine, but I pull my focus back towork.
Already, Eric’s started to moan, and I speed up rubbing my tits and exaggerate my moans even more. Eric blow his load on my tits, and he breathing afterward like he's run a marathon. That would be more impressive if he’d shot more than a few drops, but, not unlike Carl, he hands me a copious number of tissues. Wishful thinking abounds here. I think about how much David comes and I’m wet instantly, wishing he was coming on me instead. I wouldn’t need the tissues because I’d drink every last drop of himup.
I wipe off, pretending to need all the tissues, and gather my clothes, headingout.
I stand outside of Eric's door and count out the money he gave me as I left. The night is growing cold and I can feel the wind blowing in through my open coat. There should have be $1500 since is at my special no touching rate. But every time I re-count, I keep counting out $1100. It is clear that Eric shorted me $400.
I knock on his door. At first, he doesn’t answer, so I knock with more force, nearly pounding on thedoor.
Finally, he answers with a crooked smile. "You can't get enough of me, can you?" he says as he opens thedoor.
"Cut the shit," I reply. "You shorted me four hundred dollars."
