2: One night stand
856 Words
Vee's pov
I push open the door to the strip club, my mind a whirlwind of pain and anger. It's my birthday, but I can't bear to go home. I need a distraction, something to help me forget the betrayal I witnessed tonight. I spot the stage and the crowd, but instead of taking a seat, I head straight to the back, determined to take control of my night.
I find the manager and, without hesitating, ask, “I want to perform. I need to get out of my head.”
The manager looks at me, assessing. “You sure you’re up for this? We don't usually have new girls on stage."
I nod, my resolve firm. “Yeah, I am.”
He gives me a once-over and leads me to the dressing room. I slip into a costume, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in my stomach. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but the need to reclaim some control pushes me forward.
I look at my reflection, a fierce glint in my eyes.
Tonight, I’m not just a woman dealing with heartbreak. Tonight, I’m a performer, and I’m going to own this place.
I step out onto the stage, the bright lights hitting me as the music begins. I start with a confident stride, my eyes scanning the crowd. I spot him—the man who caught my eye earlier. He’s sitting at the bar, his gaze locked on me.
The music pulses through me, and I begin to move. I’m not just dancing; I’m putting everything I have into each move, each sway. I’m fierce, unapologetic, and I let my emotions drive the rhythm. I’m angry, hurt, and determined to show that I’m more than just the girl who got cheated on.
I see the stranger’s eyes widen with interest. I take off my top with a dramatic flair, tossing it aside. I’m aware of his gaze, but I focus on the power I feel on stage. I want him—and everyone else—to see that I’m in control. I slip out of my skirt, my confidence growing with each step.
The crowd is captivated, but my focus is entirely on him. I can feel his desire and curiosity as I continue to dance.
As I finish my routine, I walk off the stage and head toward the bar where he’s sitting. I don’t wait for him to approach me. I walk up to him, my hips swaying with each step, my gaze challenging.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with intrigue. “Impressive,” he says, his voice low.
“Glad you think so,” I reply, my voice dripping with confidence. “I needed to do something wild tonight. You got any ideas?”
He studies me for a moment, then stands. “How about we continue this conversation somewhere more... private?”
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't know this man, but I want him. I want to lose myself in him, to forget my troubles and indulge in a night of passion.
He takes my hand, leading me to a private room in the back. I follow willingly, my body screaming for release.
As we enter the room, he turns to me, his eyes burning with desire. "Tell me your name." he says.
"Vee." I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
He pulls me close, his lips crashing down on mine. I kiss him back, our tongues entwining as we stumble towards the bed.
I know I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be having s*x with a stranger. But I can't help myself. I want this. I need this.
As we fall onto the bed, he unbuttons his shirt as I loosen his belt.
I raise my hips, an invitation he takes and pushes his groin into my womanhood. A vein in his neck pulses. Our gazes meet. His stare makes my core throb. He sinks in farther.
"Ouchh! It hurts."
“I'll be gentle,” he murmurs, pressing farther, until he’s fully buried inside my wet heat.
"You're so tight, Vee." He whispers.
I clench down on his shaft, wanting more of him. He braces himself by putting his arms on either side of me, then slowly begins to roll his hips. It feels amazing. He feels amazing. My arousal is primed to take more of him.
But as the intensity of the moment begins to fade, reality starts to creep back in. I think about the risks I'm taking, and the unknown things about this stranger.
"Wait," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "We need to stop."
He looks at me, confusion etched on his face, but he slowly pulls back. We lie there for a moment, catching our breath.
"I'm sorry," I say finally. "I don't even know your name."
He smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Maybe that's for the best," he says. "For now, let's just say I'm someone you'll never forget."
And with that, he gets up and walks away, leaving me with more questions than answers.
- Writer
