Stripped: Chapter 3b

Click here to start with Chapter 1

I sashayed out there with the confidence of a woman who just eye-fucked Tom Hardy. I threw myself into the dance, those deep and probing eyes haunting my subconscious. Whoever he was, he was watching, and I was going to give him one hell of a show. Each dancer split off two-by-two. I was with Candy (I know, every strip club has to have one, right?) and I pulled her close, grinding into her leg while one hand pulled at her hair, the other sliding serendipitously down my side, across my flat belly, and softly onto the ties hanging at her hip. She threw her head back at my touch and I followed her lead, leaning my face in near her breasts and licking my lips sensually.

The men (and a few women, actually) went wild. A proud smile flew to Candy’s face – she was fairly new and had not received this kind of response before.

Oh, we’re not done yet, honey. Wait until you see what I have in store for you.

In coordination with the routine, we stood back-to-back, grinding to the floor, then grasping hands desperately, slowly rising back up to stand. I turned to face her back, swept her hair behind her neck, and breathed softly on her skin. My hands grasped daintily the front of her hips and we pulsated backwards in circles to the music, the other girls in perfect time with us. I caressed my hands slowly and carnally up her dark and gorgeous skin until I reached the clasp of her top. I pulled at the strings, sending her cover spiraling to the ground, her engorged breasts shining in the spotlight to hoops and hollers from our heated patrons. I was ad-libbing a little; it was encouraged for this routine and a couple of the girls followed my example much to the pleasure of our audience.

We returned back-to-back again, completing a lascivious body roll. My hands creeped up towards my neck, a look of coy innocence on my face, and I unhooked my own top which fell to my waste.

I swear I could smell the cum emanating from the anxious spectators.

I squeezed my hands down my side, reaching behind my back and releasing the remainder of my top. One more intense body roll and we turned to face each other again. I stole a glimpse into the crowd, hoping to catch sight of my secret admirer, but I couldn’t see past the floodlights. God, I hoped he was still there. This was all for his benefit and I imagined those haunting eyes were still burrowing into me with seething pleasure. I imagined he was hard and squirming, barely able to hold himself back from running up here to throw me against the wall and ravish me.

I ground even deeper into Candy than I had before. She responded in kind, our nipples dancing against each other and stimulating is to explore each other with even greater fervor.

I loved the idea that he might be watching us. I could feel my own wetness peaking and I was dying to slip my fingers beneath the fabric of my panties to satisfy my ache. Instead I continued the libidinous molestation of my willing partner, the cheers of the crowd barely audible to my ears while thump of my rapidly pumping blood took over all sensations. The dance finished and we sauntered off-stage, the girls all smiles over the incredible response from our very enthusiastic men. I immediately stole into the dressing room, locking the door and flattening against the wall, my fingers stealing straight for my clitoris, burning and aching. I began my assault with deep circular motions, the intensity rising quickly with images of me straddled across my new lover while his tongue and lips sucked and pinched my nipples.

I came hard, the fingers of my other hand sliding in and out of me with reckless abandon. It took every measure of self-control to avoid crying out – not that it mattered. It wasn’t unusual for us ladies to satisfy our needs back here; sometimes together, sometimes alone. But I wanted this moment to be private. I didn’t want anyone else to see my vulnerability. I sank to the floor, endorphins racing, satisfaction achieved at long-last. I closed my eyes and considered falling asleep in that very spot. But I resisted; Lap dances were next in the menu and I was likely to be in high demand after that steamy number.

Would he request a lap dance? Suddenly my energy returned and I rushed back out to the platform with a hopeful heart.

Addicted yet? Click below to download and read the rest of the story on Kindle.

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Ellie’s trying to convince you to love her! But she won’t give up yet – here’s Chapter 3c.

 

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4 thoughts on “Stripped: Chapter 3b

  1. Pingback: Muddy Heels: Chapter 3a | Writers of the Rain

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