CHAPTER FOUR
1041 Words
At the club house ,Familiar faces were scattered among the crowd, distinguished by how much they were willing to pay . Some were generous tippers, while others resorted to groping without substantial contributions.
However, amidst the regulars, there was a Henry Anderson who decided to attend the club . He stood out, dressed in a business attire that didn't quite match the typical clientele of a strip club. His gaze locked onto a particular stripper, and he couldn't help but feel intrigued by her unwavering focus.
He paid no attention to the other strippers, solely fixated on her. The intensity of his stare made her consider giving him a more private performance. Although she wasn't usually interested in such encounters, something about him piqued her curiosity.
Swaying seductively on the pole, she toyed with the idea of teasing him further, hinting at a more intimate show without actually going through with it. While he felt turned on by the attention, she knew her boundaries and wasn't willing to cross them just yet.
Yet, the allure of his gaze proved too strong to resist. She decided to approach him, wanting to know what he desired from me. If he was willing to pay, it didn't matter whether he was rich or not; all she cared about was securing her earnings.
His wealth or status didn't concern her, as long as he held up his end of the deal. So, with a mix of anticipation and caution, she headed towards the enigmatic man, ready to discover what lay behind his intense gaze.
Drawing nearer to him, she found herself increasingly intrigued. The darkness had obscured his appearance before, but up close, she couldn't deny the undeniable allure he exuded.
He was undeniably handsome, and that fact wasn't lost on me. She wondered why he had come to a strip club and what he could possibly want from here. His intense stare hinted that he was enjoying the performance, but there had to be more to it.
She faced directly, she pondered her next move. Should she play it safe and dance for familiar faces, or should she take a chance and explore this spontaneous encounter?
His hand slid inside his jacket, revealing a fifty-dollar bill. She couldn't resist taking it, but she wanted more. Her mind raced with possibilities of how she could maximize her earnings.
Whispering in his ear, she suggested moving somewhere more private, and he didn't hesitate to follow me. Leading him to a secluded back room, she noticed a unique connection between him—one that urged her to provide him with a private show despite her usual reservations.
The room, dimly lit with red lights, featured a glittering pole at its center. This was one of het favorite rooms, although she rarely performed in it during her shifts. However, for him, she was willing to make an exception.
Seating him in a chair, she contemplated what moves to showcase tonight. Depending on the amount he was willing to pay, she might just go the extra mile for him.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she inquired, "Is there a specific reason you chose me tonight?"
Surprisingly, he didn't object, and she sensed there was something more personal to his request.
"Personal service isn't frowned upon, is it?" he replied calmly.
Smiling, I answered, "Not at all, but it comes with a price tag, and it's not cheap."
His response was confident, pulling out a wad of dollars from inside his jacket pocket. The revelation filled me with excitement—this man had to be wealthy.
My eagerness to cater to him grew, fueled by the prospect of gaining substantial financial rewards. As long as he was willing to pay, I was ready to provide a private show that would leave him mesmerized.
Money wasn't a concern for him, and that realization opened up a world of possibilities. My name is Whitney, and tonight, I was ready to indulge the billionaire in front of me in an unforgettable experience.
Closing the distance between us, I eagerly accepted the money he offered, settling onto his lap with a glint of anticipation in my eyes. I could sense that he had more to give, and I was eager to tap into his wealth.
With a hint of flirtatiousness, I informed him, "I can fulfill almost any desire you have." Although there were limitations due to club rules, we both knew that certain intimate activities were permissible.
He suggested saving some of the money for another time, hinting that he might return for more. The thought excited me, and I found myself tempted to work even harder to keep him coming back for additional private shows.
As I moved sensually on his lap, he responded by sliding his hand under my thigh, inching it closer to the edge of my underwear. The prospect of what might happen next consumed my thoughts, and I dared him with my gaze to continue.
Our eyes locked, and I sensed his determination not to stop unless I intervened. It was a thrilling challenge, and I couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the superficial flirting I employed with other customers—I was genuinely interested in him.
Breaking the intimate tension, I shifted my position and held onto his wrists to prevent him from crossing any boundaries. I reminded him of the rules, making it clear that certain actions were off-limits.
He smiled in response, a gesture that further piqued my interest, though I begrudgingly acknowledged the constraints of the situation.
With his hands now on my waist, unable to explore further, I returned to grinding my hips on his lap, moving to the rhythm of the music. Although I yearned to escalate the pace, I restrained myself, mindful of the rules and the limits they imposed.
Curiosity led me to inquire about his profession, but he evaded a direct answer, mentioning a long day at work instead. Respecting his privacy, I didn't push further, suspecting that he preferred not to discuss his occupation.
When he asked about me, I was candid in my response. "I make a living doing this," I replied, hinting that stripping was my profession. It was something he probably deduced already.
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