The dim, pulsing glow of neon lights bathed the entrance of Velvet Touch, the city’s most infamous gentlemen’s club, where the air smelled of cheap cologne, spilled whiskey, and the thick, musky scent of arousal. Inside, the bass of the music thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating up through the soles of high heels and polished dress shoes alike. The stage was a shrine to sin, its black lacquered surface reflecting the flickering spotlights above, the pole at its center gleaming like a promise. And then—she appeared.
Lena, a vision in crimson, stepped onto the stage in a dress so tight it looked painted on, the fabric clinging to the swell of her 34C breasts, the curve of her hips, the round, jiggling perfection of her ass. The dress rode high on her thighs, the hem barely containing the secret between them. Her blonde hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, catching the light with every sway of her body. The crowd—row after row of hungry eyes, parted lips, hands gripping glasses a little too tight—erupted the moment her stiletto heels clicked against the stage. But Lena wasn’t thinking about them. Her gaze flicked past the sea of strangers, locking onto him. Jake sat near the front, his dark eyes burning into her, his jaw clenched so tight she could see the muscle feathering beneath his skin. A slow, wicked smile curled her lips. This was for him.
The music swelled, a deep, throbbing beat that matched the pulse between her thighs. Lena rolled her shoulders back, arching her spine just enough to make her tits press against the fabric of her dress, the outline of her hard nipples already visible. Her hands slid up her body, fingers tracing the neckline before dipping beneath the straps. The crowd leaned in, breath held, as she hooked a finger under the first thin strap and tugged. The fabric resisted for a heartbeat—then gave, slithering down her arm, baring one creamy shoulder. The other strap followed, the dress sagging just enough to tease the lace of her bra, a delicate black thing that barely contained her. A wolf whistle cut through the music, but Lena ignored it. Her focus was on Jake, on the way his fingers dug into the armrests, his knuckles white.
She turned, presenting her back to the crowd, her ass swaying in slow, hypnotic circles as she reached behind her. The zipper of her dress hissed downward, parting like a secret, the fabric peeling away to reveal the dip of her spine, the dimples just above the swell of her ass. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the bra, the thong, and those fuck-me heels. The crowd roared, but Lena barely heard them. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thong, dragging it down just an inch—just enough to show the shadowed cleft of her ass, the hint of damp fabric clinging to her pussy. Then she let go, letting the thong snap back into place, her laughter breathy as she glanced over her shoulder at Jake. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, his gaze glued to the strip of fabric disappearing between her cheeks.
The music shifted, the tempo slowing, the bass deeper, more insistent. Lena’s hands slid up her thighs, her fingers tracing the edge of her thong before slipping beneath it. The crowd groaned, a collective sound of need, but she was lost in the way Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. She turned to face them again, her back against the pole, her legs parting just enough to let her fingers dip beneath the fabric. The first brush against her clit sent a jolt through her, her breath hitching, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. The thong was soaked, the lace clinging to her swollen lips, and when she tugged it to the side, the crowd lost their fucking minds.
Her pussy glistened under the lights, wet and swollen, her clit already throbbing. She circled it with the pad of her middle finger, her head falling back against the pole as a soft moan escaped her. The music pulsed around her, but all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears, the slick sound of her fingers moving through her own arousal. She spread her legs wider, her heels digging into the stage as she dipped two fingers inside herself, curling them just the way Jake did when he fucked her with his tongue. A shudder ran through her, her thighs trembling, her free hand gripping the pole for support. The crowd was a blur of movement, men shifting in their seats, some palming themselves through their pants, others leaning forward like they could taste her if they just got close enough.
But Lena’s eyes were on Jake. On the way his hand had disappeared beneath the table, the way his breath came in ragged gasps. She pulled her fingers free with a wet sound, bringing them to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste herself. The flavor of her own arousal—salty, musky, hers—made her whimper. She wanted more. Needed more. The music crescendoed, the beat driving her on, and she turned, bending at the waist, her ass in the air as she gripped her cheeks and spread them. The crowd’s reaction was deafening, but she barely registered it. All she could think about was the way Jake’s cock must be straining against his jeans, the way he’d fill her up later, fuck her raw in the backseat of his car, just like he always did after her shows.
The final notes of the song hung in the air, and Lena straightened, her body slick with sweat, her skin flushed. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her thong and peeled it down her thighs, stepping out of it with a slow, deliberate motion before tossing it into the crowd. A dozen hands shot up, but she didn’t care who caught it. Her bra was next, the clasp undoing with a flick of her fingers, the cups falling away to reveal her heavy breasts, her nipples hard and aching. The crowd was on their feet, their cheers a wall of sound, but Lena was already moving, swaying toward the edge of the stage, her gaze locked on Jake.
She dropped to her knees at the edge, her tits swaying, her pussy still throbbing, so close to the edge she could taste it. The men in the front row reached for her, but she leaned back just out of reach, her smile wicked as she trailed her fingers down her stomach, dipping them between her legs again. She was so wet, so ready, her clit swollen and sensitive as she rubbed tight, fast circles over it. Her breath came in sharp gasps, her body coiling tighter, tighter—
And then she stopped.
The crowd groaned in protest, but Lena was already pushing to her feet, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. She blew Jake a kiss, her lips glossy and parted, before turning and strutting off the stage, her ass swaying with every step, the crowd’s applause following her like a storm. Backstage, she barely had time to grab her robe before she was rushing toward the exit, her heels clicking against the concrete, her pussy dripping, her skin electric.
The night air hit her like a slap, cool against her overheated skin, but she barely noticed. Jake’s car was parked in the shadows at the far end of the lot, the engine already running. She yanked the door open and slid inside before he could even lean over to unlock it, her robe falling open as she straddled him, her bare pussy pressing against the thick ridge of his cock through his jeans. His hands were on her instantly, gripping her waist, his mouth crashing against hers in a bruising kiss. She moaned into it, her tongue tangling with his, tasting whiskey and need.
“Fuck, baby,” Jake growled against her lips, his voice rough, desperate. “You’re gonna make me cum just like this.”
Lena rocked her hips, grinding down on him, the friction against her clit sending sparks through her. “Then take your cock out,” she panted, her fingers fumbling with his belt, her nails scraping against the denim. “I need it. Now.”
Jake didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick, veiny length springing free, already leaking at the tip. Lena whimpered at the sight of it, her pussy clenching around nothing. She didn’t wait. She rose up on her knees, positioning herself over him, and then sank down in one smooth, desperate motion.
They both groaned, the sound raw and guttural. He filled her completely, stretching her, the burn of it perfect, necessary. Lena’s head fell back as she took him to the hilt, her walls fluttering around him, her body already on the edge from her performance. Jake’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her, hard and deep, the car rocking with the force of it.
“That’s it,” she gasped, her nails raking down his chest, her tits bouncing with every punishing thrust. “Fuck me like you mean it. Like you’ve been thinking about it all night.”
Jake growled, his hips snapping up to meet her, his cock pistoning in and out of her soaked pussy. The sounds filling the car were obscene—wet, slapping skin, their ragged breaths, the slick squelch of her cunt taking him over and over. Lena’s orgasm coiled tight, her muscles locking, her breath stuttering as she teetered on the edge.
“Gonna cum,” she whined, her voice high and needy. “Gonna cum on your cock, baby, please—”
Jake’s hand snaked between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. That was all it took. Lena shattered, her back arching, her pussy clamping down around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She screamed, the sound swallowed by Jake’s mouth as he kissed her, his own release barreling through him. His cock jerked deep inside her, his cum flooding her in thick, hot pulses, filling her up until it dripped down her thighs.
They collapsed together, Lena’s forehead pressed against his, their chests heaving, the car filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Jake’s cock twitched inside her, his cum still leaking out around him, but neither of them moved. Lena’s lips curved into a satisfied, lazy smile.
“Next time,” she murmured, her voice rough, “you’re gonna fuck me on that stage
