Pleasure and sold

1104 Words
*Levi* I can't help but feel disappointed that she won't divulge any personal information to me. The desire to know her better is growing within me. I realize it may be strange, as most men likely want to know as little as possible about the strippers they encounter. However, given the nature of our intimate interactions, it feels odd not to know even her name. I must be crazy, right? After all, I'm just one of many clients who pay for her dances daily, and yet I foolishly believe we share a connection. As she dances in her dark blue lingerie, her hands resting on my shoulders, she exudes an irresistible allure. Her body sways to the music, expertly avoiding any actual contact with me, making my arousal almost unbearable. I watch as she bites her lip before taking my hands and placing them low on her hips. Leaning in, she whispers into my ear, "Just keep away from the naughty areas, love." Her body feels warm beneath my hands, and I gently slide my fingers up her sides, relishing the sensation as she continues to move to the rhythm of the music. *Natalie* His hands are so large, his fingers long, yet his touch is incredibly gentle, as if he is afraid he might hurt me. The sensation leaves burning trails on my skin. I need some distance from him to catch my breath. I don't understand why he affects me this way. Dancing has never turned me on before, so why does his presence make my pulse race and my insides clench with tantalizing desire? I carefully remove his hands and position myself on the floor in front of him, dancing and teasing as I run my hands over my body, gradually shedding my clothes until I'm completely bare. The way he gazes at me sends a rush of heat through my veins. There's no doubt he likes what he sees, his jeans revealing his obvious arousal, and this only intensifies my own excitement. Approaching him slowly, I turn my back and begin grinding against his lap. A soft groan escapes his lips, and I struggle to suppress a moan of my own. The sensation of his body and the rough edge of passion in his voice is incredibly arousing. As I swivel around in his lap, I lift my leg high in the air, moving it to the other side of him, just inches from his face. He bites his lip, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appear black. When I grind down on him and my center connects with his denim-covered erection, a wave of pleasure courses through me, my hands digging into his shoulders. I remind myself to stay composed, to maintain the illusion that I want him. The truth is, I do want him, but the club has strict boundaries, allowing only certain interactions. I suddenly realize that his hands are on my thighs, but I don't mind. I'm focused on the music and trying to keep in rhythm with the beat. The sensation of his rough jeans against my most sensitive area, combined with the thought of being naked in his lap, feels incredibly naughty and arousing. I can't help but purr into his ear, "Oh babe, you feel so good." His body tenses, and his grip tightens as he emits a faint, pained sound. I can't believe I just said that. It's his role to express such desires, not mine. I shouldn't feel this way. Our eyes lock, his mouth slightly open as he breathes heavily. He begins rolling his hips against me, grazing my heated center with each movement, and I surrender all control. Forgetting about the music and my responsibility to maintain in charge, I let him guide my body. He could easily take advantage of the situation, but his hands never stray, and he doesn't try to kiss me. He simply watches me with gleaming eyes as the coil inside me tightens. I can't resist any longer. My body bucks against him, and I release a strangled cry of pleasure, the wave of ecstasy crashing over me like a tsunami. *Levi* I'm taken aback. She rests her head on my shoulder, breathing heavily and trying to regain her composure. I can feel the evidence of her orgasm dampening my pants beneath her. A part of me takes pride in this, knowing that such a reaction is likely rare, and it's reassuring that the attraction isn't one-sided. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, hiding her face in my neck, seemingly embarrassed that she allowed herself to experience pleasure for once. I gently stroke her back, my lips brushing her ear as I whisper, "You have nothing to apologize for. It was my pleasure, darling." She trembles against me, her lips ghosting over my cheek as she stands. "Thank you. I need to go now, but I really hope to see you again." I reply with a small smile, "I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to," and watch her leave. The only downside is having to exit the club with a conspicuous wet spot on the front of my jeans, but people will probably just assume I couldn't control myself. *Natalie* Just as I'm about to leave the club, Jasper catches up with me. "Hey Nat, wait. I need to know what you did to that man in there." Confused and flustered, I reply, "What do you mean? I did what I get paid to do." Does he know something? But how could he? He chuckles. "Well, you must have done something. I just happened to be in the boss's office when he came by to discuss you." My nerves kick in. "Discuss me how?" Had he been disappointed with me? Had he complained about my behavior? I can't lose this job; I need the money. Jasper raises his eyebrows. "He wanted full access to you, every day you are at work, for as long as he wants. You can do your stage show, but no private shows for the next 3 weeks, sweetie." My eyes widen in shock. "He paid to have me to himself for 3 weeks?" I can't even fathom how much money the boss would demand for such a privilege. Grinning wickedly, Jasper says, "Apparently, someone doesn't like to share his new favorite toy, sweetie. I think someone's rather taken with you." I'm torn between feeling extremely flattered and slightly angry with him. Though I don't particularly enjoy private shows, except for the ones with him, I can't help but feel like I have just been bought and sold.
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