The last time my wife and I went out of town we got into a fight and I ended up at a strip club a few counties over, a college town full of beautiful girls that needed a quick buck for school supplies in the middle of their winter break.
I was mesmerized by this one particular girl that I kept catching glimpses of.
I’d only seen her from the back, but she was this petite little thing that had a knock-out body. Her hair fell in soft curls down to her ass, each curl a different jewel-toned color. An emerald colored thong clung to her ass and hips, showcasing the curves of her impossibly pale flesh. Her waist dipped in just above her hips, creating the perfect place for hands to hold her while she got fucked. Even the way her legs were stretched and strained in her silvery heels was stunning.
I wanted the dance from her so I talked to a waitress. She approached the girl and I watched her push her hair behind her ear and nod. She walked off and I watched her ass sway as she headed towards the private rooms. The waitress came back and led me to the room the other girl had disappeared in.
The waitress smiled at me, “No touching unless she puts your hands on her herself, then follow her guide, but don’t move your hands yourself, understood?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Sit in the chair in the center of the room with your hands on the side of the seat, she moves, you don’t,” she said as she opened the door.
There was a curtain behind the door and I went past. The room was was decorated in dim fairy lights and emerald, silver, and purple fabric draped around. In the center of the room was a high backed chair in an ebony wood and a tufted purple leather seat. The door closed behind me and I sat in the chair, legs spread out for the comfort of it as it was a very large chair, almost throne-like actually.
I gripped the underside of the seat and found a handle on either side, designed just for this purpose, I assume. The music started and the main lights dimmed but didn’t turn off outright, I imagine the fairy lights were too dim for security to keep an eye on the guy’s hands in this room without the extra light creating a soft glow about the room. The girl made her way over to me, starting her dance with a strip tease. Her thong was covered with a tiny pair of cut off shorts that revealed a large portion of her lower ass cheeks and she wore a tight t-shirt that clung to her tits.
I smiled as I watched the t-shirt pull, she gathered it just below her tits and my eyes were absolutely stuck on the fabric as she slowly lifted it up and over her head then lay it on my shoulder as she bent at the waist and let her body hover above mine. This girl was good. Her bare skin was softly scented, not overpowering like most of the girls in here. She smelled of coconuts and honey and something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Part of the rules at this establishment is that lap dances are not a contact event unless the girl allows it to be. Most guys get warmth and closeness just hovering above them, taunting them of what they want and refusing to give them the contact they seek, instead just getting the visible stimulation of a girl’s body arching and twisting in dance millimeters from your aching dick. This girl started with that same visual tease, her ass was directly in front of me, swaying as she slipped her shorts from her tightly toned body.
She carefully bent at the waist, ensuring I could see that her thong was pulled tightly against her cunt. This girl turned around to face me, her hands trailed over my jaw and down my neck. She climbed over my lap and hovered just high enough that my quickly swelling cock pushed my jeans against her skin. She pulled my hands from the handles on the chair and put them on her waist.
I think she decided she like my hands on her, because she lowered her body that little bit more and sat on my lap, grinding her cunt against my cock as she leaned her upper body back. Her hands were on top of mine at first, then she brought her hands up her own body and unfastened the little hook at the front of her bra. She teased, carefully holding the cups of her bra on her tits while she pulled one arm free of the strap then the other.
When she sat back up her breathing was a little heavy and she grabbed my hand on her right hip and pulled it beneath the cup of her bra, then did the same with my other hand as she dropped the bra from her body. Her tits were perfection. Her nipples nestled against my palms, firm peaks contrasted beautifully with the softness surrounding it. I resisted the urge to knead her breasts, only holding them as she’d left them, but my dick was aching now.
She leaned forward as the song was coming to an end and whispered in my ear, “Pay for another dance and I’ll get security to take a walk for a bit. I nodded, the song ended and she jumped up as the lights came back on. I dug into my wallet for another hundred bucks and handed it to her without even looking at her, though I heard a sharp intake of breath from her as she took it.
Before I could even look up to see what was wrong she was behind the curtain and the lights came back down. I sat back in the seat and her hand was trembling as she came back over to me and knelt down in front of me. I wanted her to look at me. I’d yet to see her face, but if she was going to blow me, I wanted to watch her do it. She avoided it, unzipping my pants and pulling my cock out with her soft hands. She kissed my cock, gently pushing my foreskin back and sucking on my head with her tight lips. I was gripping the handles under the chair like my life depended on it. I wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and get my dick as deep into that soft, tight, mouth as I could.
She seemed to pick up on my need and stood up, pushing my face to the side so she could whisper in my ear without me seeing her, “You’re free to touch now,” she whispered, then lowered herself back down to my cock, sucking and licking me as she stroked my balls.
I took the bait and put my hands on the back of her head and gagged her as she whimpered. She pushed herself down harder and I groaned, “Fuck, me…”
I let her up to breath and I heard a wet pop as the head of my cock dislodged from the back of her throat. She coughed and gasped a little and I grabbed the side of her jaw, trying to angle her face up so I could see it, but she quickly went back down on my dick and deep-throated me with an urgent need to get me to cum. Her tongue tickling my balls, and her fingertips pressing on the area of skin between my sack and ass as her throat squeezed my cock sent me over and I came directly down her throat.
She was gasping when she pulled back and I felt the heavy thickness of her saliva coating my dick as she looked to the ground and tried to steady her breathing. I didn’t mind watching her tits rise and fall, the soft mounds with a tented peak at her nipples were beautiful. When she caught her breath finally, she did something I didn’t expect. She wiped her mouth off and kissed me hard, slipping her tongue in my mouth and holding mind hostage while her hands grasped the sides of my face to hold me still. When she was done, she put her lips by my ear and whispered, “You have a very nice cock, Dean,” and took off out the side door the dancers used.
I sat there dumbfounded. She knew who I was. Did she see my ID when I opened my wallet for the extra cash? If that were the case I don’t think she would have been trying so hard to keep me from seeing her face. No, she didn’t just know who I was, she knew that I would recognize her if I saw her. Fuck. I’m married and I just got a blowjob from a stripper in a moment of angry desperation.
I wracked my brain as I left the club, trying to figure out who I knew with a body like that. No one was coming to mind. I was nearly forty, all of my friends were in the thirty-five to forty-five range. I had two daughters, but neither one was old enough to have a friend old enough to be a stripper. I waited for a message from some random girl in my life: Pay up or deal with the hell that is my wife when I’ve fucked up.
It absolutely plagued me for months as I waited for that ultimatum to come, the threat, the terms, the blackmail of a girl who could take a dick down her throat like it was nothing, at least until she pulled away out of desperation to breath again. I was an absolute wreck, not sleeping, barely eating, and I couldn’t even look at my wife. I just went to work, stayed late every chance I got, then went to bed, my penance for fucking up.
Then the doorbell at my house rang that next summer and I opened the door to a girl standing on my front step with a backpack and a big piece of luggage. Her hair fell in beautiful jewel toned curls around her face, but the bulk of it was pulled up into a cascading ponytail at the back of her head. She smiled at me, a knowing smirk lingered as she glanced down to my crotch. I got hard just standing there, looking at her in an oversized t-shirt cut into a crop top that hung off of one shoulder and tiny shorts that barely covered her ass. I don’t think she was wearing a bra, her top slipped forward as she shifted her backpack on her shoulder, there was way too much tit showing for anything under that shirt to be contained.
“Hi, Dean,” she said softly.
“Gia?” I asked.
She nodded, “Gonna let me in?”
I stepped aside slightly and she made an effort to brush her hand against my cock as she pushed her way through the doorway. I jumped as my wife yelled from the kitchen, “Who was at the door, hun?”
My voice cracked slightly as I yelled back, “Your little sister…”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/i1o2ia/careless_whispers_part_one_stripper_blowjob
Now that was hot. I hope to read more about Gia and Dean.
Hot, hot, hot