The connection is more than I ever thought it would be. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as she quickens her pace.
Ross has a strict rule of no contact when on stage. We can bring girls up and dance around them with our clothes on but no skin-to-skin contact. The crowd may think its part of the show when I throw back my head and groan. I get way too close to the danger zone with her hand down my pants. When her hand reaches the head of my cock, I can feel her swirl her fingertip around a bead of cum.
I catch her wrist and pull it from my pants and bounce back up, giving each section of the club a view of my ass while pulling down the front of my jeans to the wicked zone without exposing anything. Ava doesn’t see me when I watch her lick the tip of her finger clean. The expression on her face as she takes me from her fingers causes my cock to pulse way too uncomfortably in my jeans.
In just a few short moments the song comes to an end, Ross cuts the lights, and the dollars fly onto the stage. I don’t wait for his announcement or a chance for an encore before rushing off the stage. The club is at an all-time high of cheers and roars.
When I enter the dressing room, Rhett has a blonde bent over the bench pounding the fuck out of her while she sucks off Oliver.
“You’re done?” Rhett asks, not missing a beat.
I only nod and race into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and fighting to catch my breath.
“What has she done to me?” I say out loud in the bathroom.
My hand roams down the front of my jeans until I have my cock clutched in a painful grip. Her brown eyes haunt me as I stroke my dick from base to tip. Her touch and hand felt so much better than mine. I pick up the pace, remembering her sweet floral scent and long brown curls draping over her shoulders.
“Fuck, Ava,” I growl out and stroke my dick faster. The pent up want and need for the gorgeous brunette peaks as my cum sprays all over the tile floor. The feeling of satisfaction never hits me. I’m left hollow and only wanting her.
I bang the back of my head on the door, staring up at the ceiling and realizing just how fucked up I am. I’m a fucking God who wins at life and makes money doing this shit, but right now all I want to do is haul her sweet little ass out to my truck and fuck her senseless into the morning.
A thunderous pounding on the door from the other side distracts me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Zane, lap dance time. Let’s go.”
“Fuck,” I growl, swinging open the door.
“Let’s go, champ.”
Rhett looks behind me at the mess on the floor and only shakes his head. My best friend can read me like a fucking open book, but knows better than to pry. I make quick work of shimmying on some skintight boxers and then putting my jeans back over the top.
Ross gives his normal lecture about lap dances while hyping up the crowd. A sickening feeling washes over me as we stand in line on the stage readying ourselves to go make the real money by dry humping women. I scan the crowd for Ava, but the lighting is way too dark.
Bank notices, hospital bills, saving Grandpa’s place, and eventually paying for a proper burial drift through my thoughts. Both of my parents are locked up for murder, each serving life sentences with no option of parole…I have no one to come and save the day. That’s my job.
The sound of my neck cracking as I jerk from side to side puts my head fully back in the game and I begin scanning the crowd for the high rollers with the Benjamins. Those are the ladies I’ll target and give them the show of their lives. There are plenty of options.
Closer by Nine Inch Nails begins to thump in the club and we all jump off the stage and pick out our prey. Mine is a lady with a canary yellow Gucci bag at her feet. Way older than me, but decked out in designer shit and sporting the look that says she’s in need of a good time.
She spreads her legs for me and I know I made the right choice when all of her
Ross has a strict rule of no contact when on stage. We can bring girls up and dance around them with our clothes on but no skin-to-skin contact. The crowd may think its part of the show when I throw back my head and groan. I get way too close to the danger zone with her hand down my pants. When her hand reaches the head of my cock, I can feel her swirl her fingertip around a bead of cum.
I catch her wrist and pull it from my pants and bounce back up, giving each section of the club a view of my ass while pulling down the front of my jeans to the wicked zone without exposing anything. Ava doesn’t see me when I watch her lick the tip of her finger clean. The expression on her face as she takes me from her fingers causes my cock to pulse way too uncomfortably in my jeans.
In just a few short moments the song comes to an end, Ross cuts the lights, and the dollars fly onto the stage. I don’t wait for his announcement or a chance for an encore before rushing off the stage. The club is at an all-time high of cheers and roars.
When I enter the dressing room, Rhett has a blonde bent over the bench pounding the fuck out of her while she sucks off Oliver.
“You’re done?” Rhett asks, not missing a beat.
I only nod and race into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and fighting to catch my breath.
“What has she done to me?” I say out loud in the bathroom.
My hand roams down the front of my jeans until I have my cock clutched in a painful grip. Her brown eyes haunt me as I stroke my dick from base to tip. Her touch and hand felt so much better than mine. I pick up the pace, remembering her sweet floral scent and long brown curls draping over her shoulders.
“Fuck, Ava,” I growl out and stroke my dick faster. The pent up want and need for the gorgeous brunette peaks as my cum sprays all over the tile floor. The feeling of satisfaction never hits me. I’m left hollow and only wanting her.
I bang the back of my head on the door, staring up at the ceiling and realizing just how fucked up I am. I’m a fucking God who wins at life and makes money doing this shit, but right now all I want to do is haul her sweet little ass out to my truck and fuck her senseless into the morning.
A thunderous pounding on the door from the other side distracts me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Zane, lap dance time. Let’s go.”
“Fuck,” I growl, swinging open the door.
“Let’s go, champ.”
Rhett looks behind me at the mess on the floor and only shakes his head. My best friend can read me like a fucking open book, but knows better than to pry. I make quick work of shimmying on some skintight boxers and then putting my jeans back over the top.
Ross gives his normal lecture about lap dances while hyping up the crowd. A sickening feeling washes over me as we stand in line on the stage readying ourselves to go make the real money by dry humping women. I scan the crowd for Ava, but the lighting is way too dark.
Bank notices, hospital bills, saving Grandpa’s place, and eventually paying for a proper burial drift through my thoughts. Both of my parents are locked up for murder, each serving life sentences with no option of parole…I have no one to come and save the day. That’s my job.
The sound of my neck cracking as I jerk from side to side puts my head fully back in the game and I begin scanning the crowd for the high rollers with the Benjamins. Those are the ladies I’ll target and give them the show of their lives. There are plenty of options.
Closer by Nine Inch Nails begins to thump in the club and we all jump off the stage and pick out our prey. Mine is a lady with a canary yellow Gucci bag at her feet. Way older than me, but decked out in designer shit and sporting the look that says she’s in need of a good time.
She spreads her legs for me and I know I made the right choice when all of her
Similar Books
