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I don’t know how to strip.
But I do know how to dance.
No one is going to want to watch a virgin stripper.
They’re not going to know that I’m a virgin.
I’m a size eighteen. Pretty sure strippers are supposed to be a size zero.
Variety is the spice of life.
I don’t want to be a stripper.
She’d only ever had one boyfriend in high school, and he’d dumped her after her mom had been arrested. He hadn’t wanted to be in a relationship with the daughter of a junkie who was going to jail. Though, truthfully, Emily sometimes wondered if that had just been the excuse because she’d been putting off sleeping with him. Kirk the Jerk was what Katrina had called him after that.
Trying to imagine herself getting naked in front of one man, much less a bunch of men, made her want to curl into a little ball.
Thousands of dollars in one night.
She’d promised Katrina that she would let her friend know if there was anything she needed. What did it say about her that becoming a virgin stripper seemed easier than asking her best friend for money?
That’s if they’d even hire me.
It would be the answer to all her prayers if they did. Plenty of money. She could pay the bills. She could pay off her credit cards. She could get herself back on her feet. It wasn’t like it had to be forever.
Sleep on it.
That’s what she would do. She would sleep on it… if she could fall asleep.
Pressing her lips together, she went to the bookshelf to pick up the worn-out copy of Stella Moore’s Worthy. She’d gotten it for a dollar at a used bookstore a year ago and read it about a million times since then. What she wouldn’t give to have a hot, rich baseball player come into her life, worship her curves, and take care of her for the rest of her life.
Though she kind of wished he was a Daddy Dom.
Emily had her own fair share of so-called Daddy issues. Having a Daddy Dom who actually cared about her sounded like heaven, but she was pretty sure those didn’t exist in real life. Or, if they did, they were all at expensive kink clubs like the one in her book. She’d never get to go there.
Damian
“Oh, Daddy…”
Emily moaned as she squirmed on his lap, her rounded bottom covered in bright pink handprints. Damian’s cock throbbed against her soft side as he spanked her again, watching her ass jiggle from the impact of his hand. Putting his hand against her hot flesh, he caressed her cheek while she whimpered, dipping his fingers down between her legs to stroke her wet pussy.
She cried out, bucking her hips up as he plunged his fingers inside her, soaking his hand in her arousal.
“Daddy, please,” she begged. “I need you… I need you to fuck me…”
Those were the words that vaulted Damian out of the dream and back into his lonely, cold bed. He’d never actually heard Emily curse in real life.
Waking up fucking sucked. He was hard as a rock. Other than her cursing, the dream had been so fucking real, he could still feel her soft curves pressing against his legs and stomach. Groaning, he reached for his dick, wishing he could banish the image of her from his head.
It wasn’t as though he knew what she actually looked like naked. He’d seen her in a bathing suit last summer when Katrina was home, and apparently, that was all his brain needed to extrapolate. Soft, plush curves, a rounded tummy, hips that he could grip, and a perfectly spankable ass…
Fantasizing about her might make him a dirty old man, but now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. He jerked his cock, closing his eyes and letting his imagination run free. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to feel her mouth around his dick, her wide eyes looking up at him, swimming with tears from a spanking while she ‘apologized’ by taking him into her throat. Her legs spread wide, arms cuffed to his bed, so he could feast on her sweet pussy until she was limp and hoarse from too many orgasms.
Then he’d move up, still holding her legs spread wide, and thrust his cock into her. Kiss her and muffle her cries with his tongue, letting her taste herself on his lips. Fuck her into oblivion while she screamed ‘Daddy’ as he filled her with his cock, over and over and over…
Damian grunted as his orgasm crested, hot cum splashing over his stomach. He worked his fist, wringing every last bit of pleasure from his dick… hoping that would be the end of it, that his body and mind would be satisfied.
Now that he thoroughly felt like a dirty old man, he was going to take a shower, then try to get some more shut-eye. Sighing, he forced himself to his feet, grimacing as he glanced down at the white trails of his cum coating his stomach.
