The line outside Society X reminded me that it’s Friday and hands down the busiest night of the week. The women, and I’m sure men, come out in droves. It’s the work crowd. The people who need to let loose before going home to their mundane existence. The patrons tonight give new meaning to the phrase ‘happy hour’. They drink, we perform, and shit gets downright fucking nasty.

There is nothing more satisfying than seeing the look on a woman’s unsuspecting face when I pull my dick out of my pants and stroke it for her. She’ll lick her lips, the automatic response drunk and horny women give, showing me that she’s ready to taste what I have to offer. I’ll get real close and watch her eyes go wide and her mouth drop open before I back away and make some other woman’s panties wet. I love teasing them.

That’s how we work. It’s our modus operandi. Tease the fucking shit out of them until they’re squirming in their seats to create the friction their aching clits need to get off. And when I come out after my set, they’re all too willing to pay me for a lap dance. The only rule: they can’t touch, but you can bet your ass I’m touching them.

Once I step inside the locker room, I hit the shower. I like to be fresh when I take the stage. When I’m done and dry, I spray myself with my cologne and body spray so that it makes my body glisten under the fluorescent lights. It’s my job to make the ladies feel like they can live out their fantasies. I want them all to think I’m attainable, that they’re sexy enough to have a guy like me.

Most of the women I encounter in the club ask if I’m gay. More so, they assume I am. I think it shocks them when I tell them I’m one hundred percent hetero and enjoy having my dick sucked by a woman. However, a handful of my co-workers are, but they don’t go around broadcasting it. At Society X we’re all fucking equal and all here to do one job: bring pleasure to the people in the room.

“What are your skits tonight?” Donnie asks. Donnie and I have been dancing for a year, except he’s danced elsewhere before landing the job here.

“Fireman, some bath scene, and a few group things. What about you?” Donnie and I stand side by side, with just our jeans on. The underwear we have on is club issued. They’re white with Society X printed on the waistband. The owner, Bryce, is a stickler when it comes to his club, which is probably why it’s the hottest nightspot in town. Even though this is a sex club, it’s clean. So clean I’d bring my grandmother here, but then she’d ask how I know about this place and I’d have to lie.

I live on the third story of a pretty decent apartment complex in a one-bedroom bachelor pad. It’s nothing high-end, but it’s affordable, clean, and it’s mine. I tried living with a few of the other dancers before and it was nothing but a sex-fest. And considering my grandma likes to go to church on Sundays and insists on driving, the last thing I needed for her to see was someone’s cock hanging out or some chick with her tits bouncing in the air. Grandma doesn’t know that my income is based on how well I can take my clothes off at night or how well I might stroke my dick. It’s not something you bring up at dinner. The last thing I want to do is give her a heart attack. Or have her think I need to repent. I do enough praying when I’m banging my flavor of the week.

“I have a bride and groom scene, two appointments in the viewing room, and I’ll be out there with you during the group shit,” Donnie says.

The viewing room is the place to be. That’s if you’re lucky enough to get booked. I’ve been in there a few times, but Donnie has regulars and those are hard to get. A lot of people can’t afford the membership rates and those that can usually have their favorites. On my nights off, I like to come in and watch what’s going on in there. It’s not always open for anyone’s viewing pleasure and the sign on the door will tell you if you can go in. That’s the only time staff is allowed. We’re not allowed to be members, and even if we were, we wouldn’t be able to afford it.

Most of us have day jobs and whatnot, but there are few who live solely off Society X. Take G Money, aka Gary, for example: he’s been here since it opened. Started as a bouncer and moved into dancing. This is his only job and he is booked most of the time for private parties. The man is a walking god among women and totally bats for the other team. Still, he does all the bachelorette parties, private parties, and whatever else the patron’s want and makes a killing. Some of us only strive to reach his status level.

Poking my head out, I watch the women and a few men continue to filter in while G Money dances around the stage. The women who are up close are going fucking nuts for him and his surgically enlarged dick. Most of the time I don’t pay attention to who is coming in, but then there are other times I’ll find someone that I want to focus on during my performances. It’s funny to watch them scramble to tip me even though that’s not why I do it. There’s always one in the crowd that needs extra attention.

That’s when I see her. Her red hair catches my attention. She’s sophisticated—that much I can tell from here—and also new to the club. I’ve never seen her before.

“I’m going out,” I tell Donnie. He nods, but doesn’t look up from the trashy romance novel he’s reading. He’s always trying to copy the sex scenes for his stage show. I don’t blame him, but I like to do what comes naturally. I just fuck the crowd.

The minute I walk out of the back room I have a harem waiting for me. They’re my regulars, not that I know any of their names but some I may have carnal knowledge of. It’s a hazard of the job. Not that I’ve picked them up here, it’s usually at Starbucks or whatever, and there’s always the awkward conversation of “hey I saw your dick the other night” and they sit there licking their lips instead of having a real conversation with you … so you show them what your cock can really do when hundreds of women aren’t looking at it.

I stand along the bar and watch the redhead. Her skirt is fucking tight, accentuating her ass perfectly and I imagine my hands palming her cheeks. That vision quickly changes to her riding my dick with my hands gripping her ass. I shake my head and ask our bartender for a ginger ale. I need something to get rid of my suddenly dry mouth.

My dick jumps when she turns and looks at me. Her gaze is penetrating—it lingers, as she looks me over, calculating the steps she has to take in order to get to me. I give her a smirk and make sure she knows that I’m looking at all of her as my eyes sweep up and down the length of her body.

When she turns around, I know I have to do something and as I step toward her, the women flocking me follow, but I ignore them. They can’t touch me so the sooner they get the hint, the better.

I step behind her, taking a deep whiff of her perfume. “Looking for me?” I murmur in her ear. She turns and her hand accidentally brushes against my dick.

Her mouth opens in shock and it’s fucking inviting. I want to taste her, to thrust my tongue in so deep until she’s screaming with pleasure. When I look into her eyes, I realize it’s a huge mistake. This woman is rocking the hottest green eyes I have ever seen. They’re sucking me in, daring me to get swept away by their magic.

“You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?” she states boldly, knocking me off my game. She’s a little vixen. I like it.

I shrug and can’t help but smirk. “Not really. I was just hoping you were. My name’s Hunter.” I pick up her hand and kiss the back of it. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m Kennedy,” she says breathlessly when I let go of her hand. It falls limply by her side as she mumbles, “It’s my first time here. Apparently, my colleagues thought it’d be a good idea to celebrate my divorce.”

Fucking single. I can’t help but smile at that little tidbit. “And the night is getting better. You don’t look old enough to have been married. Must not have lasted long.”

“Five years,” she says. “We were just two different people. And I’m not as young as you may think.”

I take a step back and give her a once over that turns into me lingering at her goods. “You can’t be more than thirty.”

“Thirty-three,” she corrects me. “And you’re what … twenty-one?”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Twenty-five. How old was your ex-husband?”

“Thirty-six, why?”

I step in closer, bringing my lips within inches of hers, and share the same air. “Just thought I’d see if you’d be interested in someone younger. I’m positive I could make you feel things your ex-husband couldn’t.” The words are out of my mouth and I don’t want to take them back. It’s been ages since I’ve seen someone that I want to get to know and not the other way around. Being a stripper has its advantages. I don’t have to come on to anyone. The women I meet are fucking eager to get on their knees and show me a good time. But this woman … Kennedy … fuck me if I don’t want to spread her out on the table and dive into her pussy and taste her.

When she looks at me like I’m joking, I stare back at her with my most serious expression. Kennedy trembles and starts fidgeting with her hands. She’s nervous. I make her feel this way. She steps back, putting too much distance between us. Her friends are giggling as they watch her fumble.

“Thanks for the offer, but aren’t most of you gay?”

This time I do laugh and use the distraction to touch her hair. Picking up a strand, I wrap her silky auburn hair around my finger. “I’m not gay, Kennedy,” I whisper as I step closer. “If you stick around long enough, maybe you’ll find that out.”

With that, I leave her standing there in the middle of the room with her mouth slack open. As soon as I step into the backroom I’m trying to catch my breath. I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering, What the hell am I thinking? I’ve never done anything like that, but one look at her and I had to know her … I had to touch her. But now that I have it may not be enough.

When Jared walks in, I straighten up. For all I know he caught all that on the floor and probably has a list of rules I’ve fucking broke. If he fires me, I’m going out there and scooping Kennedy up and taking her with me.

“Hunter, you have a schedule change. You’ll be in the viewing room next.”

“Thanks, Jared,” I say, nodding to him. I should be happy, but I’d rather go out there and eye fuck Kennedy all night long than grope someone else.

 

 

Getting a gig in the viewing room is what I always strive for, but it takes everything inside me to get geared up. I’m ready to get the shit over with and find Kennedy again. Once my client is situated in her chair, the lights are dimmed and my music starts. The song is “Pony” by Ginuwine—the most overplayed song in strip clubs, but for whatever reason the women wet themselves for it so we keep playing it.

I can tell there are people watching, but I can’t see their faces. All I know is it’s a group and not just one person. When my eyes find the woman in the chair, I pause for a quick second. I can’t see her face but I recognize her red hair. It’s her. It’s fucking Kennedy. I promised her a good time and that’s what I’m going to give her. With a smile on my face, I drop my pants and step behind her chair.

“Are you ready, Kennedy?” I murmur against her as my hands caress her shoulders. She tenses and I love that I make her nervous. If she asked me to fuck her right there on stage, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’ll make her come like she’s a fucking porn star and make her feel things she could only imagine in her wildest fantasies.

When she doesn’t answer me I step around to the front of the chair so I can look into her green eyes. “Are you?” I ask again as I straddle her, pulling my cock out of my Society X underwear so she can get a good look. She sucks in a breath when I place my dick between her breasts. What I wouldn’t give to fuck her tits right now. Sliding lower, I situate myself so her friends can’t see as I settle between her thighs and slide my hand up her skirt until my finger grazes her damp underwear.

She trembles and I take that as an invite to do more. I gently bite down on her fabric-covered breast and she groans, sending a clear signal to my dick.

“How ’bout we give ’em a show?” I ask as my finger continues to run up and down the front of her panties.

“Okay,” she says, barely audible but enough for me to hear. I have her consent to do what I want, until she tells me no.

She’s in my arms before she can change her mind and my body is covering her the moment I lay her on the bed. My hips move into hers on their own volition and before I know what’s going on, I’m harder than a fucking rock.

Her hips meet every one of my thrusts until I pull away, afraid I’m going to blow my load and get her pretty little skirt wet. I slide my hands up her legs and grab her panties, pulling them down her legs so I can see how fucking wet she is. I lean down and breathe in her scent, committing it to memory.

As my music ends I realize I’m in a trance. My chest is heaving and this is the do or die moment. I can fucking fall into her and find out what it’s like to have her pussy squeezing my dick or I can get up and go do my job.

“Do you still think I’m gay?” I ask, leaning into her.

The devilish smirk on her face makes me want to fuck her even more. “Maybe. It’s a shame you can’t prove otherwise.”

I don’t know if that’s an invitation or what, but the lights flickering back on save me from making a fool out of myself. I leave the warmth of her body and step back. It pains me to leave, especially when we have a perfectly good bed to put to use, but I have to. She didn’t ask for sex in the viewing room.

“Until next time …” I say before disappearing behind the curtain. I stand there, listening to her move around while I try to control my breathing. The woman is going to fucking kill me.

 

 

I continued to watch Kennedy all night and much to my pleasure she ignored everyone until I came out. I gave her a lap dance, much to her friends’ delight. Her cheeks turned the same color as her hair, but never once did her eyes leave mine, even as I stood there stroking my dick in front of her face. I wanted to ask her to go back in the viewing room and give me her number, but knew I couldn’t. She’d have to ask for me and I’m not sure that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

I flirted with her more than any other woman tonight and my tips show for it. I should have a bankroll in my pocket, but I don’t. It’s a small sacrifice that I’m willing to accept because the alternative has been somewhat worth it. My only hope is that she comes back tomorrow or next week and we can play once more. All I know is that I have to see her again.

The parking lot is still full when I walk out. That’s when I see her standing by a car talking to her friends. I stand back and watch her for a minute until I see them hug each other and go to their separate cars.

I cough loudly so she knows I’m approaching. She turns and steps toward her car, her eyes wide.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You didn’t,” she replies nervously.

“Then why are you shaking?” I run the edge of my fingers down her arm, causing her to shiver even more. Chuckling lightly, I step closer.

“It’s cold out.”

“Let me warm you up,” I offer. Kennedy glances over her shoulders, probably wondering if she needs to scream for help. The truth is, the security guard can probably see everything and if she does scream, he’ll come running. “Why don’t we sit in your car and talk?”

She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth only for my thumb to pull it back out. If anyone is going to be biting her lip tonight, it’s going to be me.

“What harm can it do? You think I’m gay, remember?” I tease.

She scoffs and then smiles. “Not anymore.” That theory went out the window once she had me in the viewing room. Unlocking her car doors, she nods toward the passenger side. “Get in.”

What I’m doing is risky and I could probably lose my job, but there’s something about her and everything inside of me is screaming that I need to know her. I climb in and she starts the car, warding off the early morning chill that’s in the air. Kennedy turns on the radio, her breaths growing deeper and faster. She won’t look at me but I’m about to change that.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she says as her breath fills the compact space in her car.

“Done what? Talk to a man in your car?” I take her chin and gently turn her to face me.

“No, what I did in the viewing room or having you in here. I feel …”

I can’t help but smile. “Dirty?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Torrid. I—”

Leaning over, I capture her lips with mine, stopping her from saying anything more. She whimpers as I push my tongue into her warm mouth. Nails dig into my arms and then my neck as I work the buttons on her blouse. I may be moving too fast, but I don’t care. As long as she doesn’t tell me to stop, I’m going to have her. With the valley of her breasts exposed I move down her neck to her tits, tweaking her fabric-covered nipples between my fingers. She squirms in her seat, looking for friction.

“When was the last time you came?” I ask, without stopping my fingers and lips.

“Huh?”

“Orgasm, Kennedy. When was the last time you came on a man’s cock while he was buried deep in your pussy?”

She mumbles some incoherent answer but it doesn’t stop her body from responding to me. I fish out the condom that’s in my pocket. It’s a hazard of the job and I’m always prepared. I pull her shirt off, as much as I can, and yank the cups of her bra down exposing one of her mounds. Her nipple puckers as the cold air hits, inviting me to take it in my mouth. I bite and lap at her breasts while she holds my head there, unwilling to let me move.

My cock strains against my jeans and my balls fucking ache. I want to fuck her. What’s worse is that I need to. I won’t be able to think of anything else until I’ve had her. My hand slides between her legs and she spreads them for me, giving herself to me freely. My fingers await her wet satin panties, but find skin.

“Where are your panties?”

She sighs breathlessly and it’s so fucking sexy. “In my purse. They were too wet to put back on … oh God,” she moans as my thumb brushes against her clit and my finger dips into her pussy.

“Fuck, you feel so good against my finger,” I say against her skin as my hand rocks back and forth between her legs. She moves her hips in rhythm and moans as her nails dig into the back of my neck.

“I need more.”

“My fucking pleasure.”

I move the seat back and recline, pulling my jeans down and letting my cock spring free. I wrap that fucker fast and pull her toward me. She’s already hiking her skirt up around her hips and centering me. My hands grip her hips as I bring her down onto me. I don’t go slowly with this shit either; I fucking pull her down so I can feel her pussy wrap around my dick.

I hiss at the contact and her head falls back. I give her a second to adjust to my girth before I rock my hips and plant my feet on the floorboard for leverage. I thrust into her, causing her to scream out.

Kennedy bounces on my dick and the smell of sex fills the car. The windows have fogged up so no one can see in, but they wouldn’t need to see to know what’s going on in here.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I murmur. She falls forward and I suck on her nipples as she moves her body up and down my cock.

“You’re so big,” she says. “I can feel you everywhere.”

That’s the fucking goal, sweetheart. I let go of her breast and move to her lips, plunging my tongue deep inside of her mouth. We kiss, exchanging the same air, moans, and slew of curse words until she sits back up. My hands fall to her hips when she slows down, opting for a change in position as she leans back. I have a clear shot at her clit and waste no time rubbing it. When her head falls back I know I’m on the right path.

“Keep going, Kennedy,” I tell her as she bucks her hips, moving faster against my thumb.

“I’m going to come.”

I pump faster, trying to be right there with her. The first initial squeeze of my dick has me on the brink and when she reaches behind her to touch my balls, I’m jerking into her, groaning as her pussy clenches tightly around me, pulsing as if it’s just been through the best night of its life.

Kennedy falls to my chest; we’re both heaving and out of breath. I hold her to me, wishing my shirt were off so I could feel her against my skin.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she whispers, her voice sounding terrified.

She moves away, quickly sliding off of me like I have the fucking plague. When she’s back in her seat, she looks at me and down at my condom-covered dick.

“Do you always have condoms on you?”

“Yes.” When you work in the sex industry, you get laid. I have to be prepared. I can see it in her eyes it’s not the answer she wanted.

“Oh God,” she says, covering her eyes. “I need you to go.”

“Why?”

“Just go, please.”

She doesn’t have to ask me again. I take the condom off, wrapping it in a piece of tissue that I find on her console, and slip my pants back on.

With my hand on the door, I look at her. Her face is still covered, but I can’t help myself—I lean over and kiss her hand, lingering there for a moment. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve never been with someone … like this.”

“Right.”

I shake my head. “No, what I mean is, I’ve never wanted someone like I want you. I don’t get turned on anymore on the job because I’ve grown immune to what is required of us, but with you, you make me so hard I wanted to fuck you earlier.”

“Please go.”

I nod even though she can’t see me and slip out of her car. By the time I reach mine, she’s tearing out of the parking lot with her tires screeching.

“Way to fuck that up, Hunter.”