Inside, the room was small, comfortable, pink. The walls were all mirrored, including the door, while most of the room was taken up by a pink velvet seat that curved around the circular wall and a small table – built, no doubt, to take a dancer’s weight.
She gestured for him to sit, and he placed himself down in the centre of the seat, directly opposite the door. The music from the main room of the club continued to play, and the girl hopped up onto the little table to start dancing.
One-on-one, he felt the embarrassment return, the warmth of a blush spreading across his cheeks as he watched the young beauty move, her hands sweeping over her pale skin, drawing his eyes with them to her pert breasts, her flat stomach, the “V” of her crotch covered only by a scrap of white silk.
He realised he could smell her perfume in that close little space – sweet, sugary, it added to the exquisite site to stir his blood, and he found his cock growing thick inside his trousers.
Would she see it? Would she have him thrown out if she realised?
Then, perhaps after she’d decided he’d settled enough, she stepped off the table to approach him – Tom was desperately worried she’d notice his erection, but there was nothing he could do, she was so stunning. She looked him straight in the eye and was close enough to touch – her supple, tender curves so staggeringly enticing, he could hardly believe this was real.
“My name’s Candice,” she said, almost a whisper in his ear. He felt her breasts brush gently against his chest – his shirt in the way, of course, but still it was enough to send a shiver of desire through his frame.
“Tom,” he replied.
“Nice to meet you, Tom,” she said, and suddenly she’d slipped her bra off over her grapefruit-sized breasts, and he was seeing her cupping herself, then exposing hard, pink nipples as she reached behind to rid herself totally of the item.
Then she stepped down onto the floor behind the table, and slunk like a scandalous floozy around the table towards him – and he felt so turned on. It was so dirty, so wrong, so against his upbringing, and yet after what his wife had done, he felt it was so very right. She stood in front of him, between his legs, her scent stronger, her near-naked perfection right there in front of him. Incredible.
“Your hands have to stay there beside you,” she said, “those are the house rules.”
“Okay,” he said.
“But I can do whatever I like,” she flashed him a naughty grin and stooped over him, her little breasts hanging so near to his face he could almost reach out and take her stiff little nipples in his mouth.
Then her breasts did trace over his face – her skin so amazingly soft, smooth, her perfume sweet and enticing. He shivered with desire,
For a while, she stood there and moved her body slowly, sensually along with the music. She almost seemed to get lost in the moment, away with the beat, the melody, but then she was obviously aware of him being there, and she was making the most of her body in bewitching him.
While he was not allowed to touch her, and he kept strictly to his side of the bargain, she seemed to enjoy the contact she was allowed with him – trailing herself all over him, straddling him, pressing herself against his face, his chest, even his hard cock. He was embarrassed the first time she came into contact with it, but then she let out a low moan and flashed him another one of those impish looks, and she ground herself against his cock – shocking but delighting him.
“If you could do anything to me – never mind the rules, what would it be?” she asked him after a while, a whisper in his ear that he suspected at first was a paranoid delusion.
Then she looked at him with a hint of impatience, wanting an answer. She leaned in, her cheek gliding against his so that he could utter his reply in her ear.
“I’d taste you,” he said, and immediately felt the hot tickle of embarrassment creep through his body.
She didn’t react. She paused for a moment, and said softly: “And how would you do that?”
The girl was pressing herself against his hard cock again, and he felt so much wonderful stimulation flooding through his veins that he quite forgot himself, saying: “I’d go down on you and pleasure you with my mouth, until you’re screaming.”
Almost immediately he’d said, it started, shocked at what he’d said. He didn’t know what had came over him – he never usually said things like that, he’d never spoken to his wife like that before. Somehow he felt different here, freed from his usual boundaries, independent.
“Mmm… I’d like that,” she whispered in his ear, moaning, almost purring like a cat.
But then this was such an unusual experience – a beautiful stranger, almost naked, allowing his eyes to traipse all over her incredible body – those perky little breasts, her pussy covered by just a scrap of pink-and-white cotton.
Suddenly, her fingers were hooked into the waistband of her panties and she was slipping them gently down past her hips, peeling them away from a light puff of hair between her legs and then down her, thighs, her calves. She was naked – he felt his pulse quicken. Wow.
She danced for a while, allowing his eyes to drink in her nudity, before she went in close again to give him even more of a tease, turning, bending, flashing her behind, trailing her breasts over him, yet hardly ever losing eye contact. He couldn’t believe what she was showing him – her sweet almost hairless pussy, her pink pussy lips for heaven’s sake! She used her panties as a prop, like one of the seven veils or a ludicrously small towel, tracing it over her curves to draw attention to here or there.
Then she hopped up onto the seat with the grace of a gymnast, and he was looking up at her, his new goddess, and he trembled as she stepped over him, poised one foot either side of his lap. She moved gently, gyrating her hips, and he thought he could see moisture on her pussy lips, glistening slightly in the lights.
She continued her act with the soft panties, trailing them over her shoulders, her waist, her pussy, pressing them against her vagina as though moving herself towards orgasm.
She bent forward, and whispered in his ear again, saying this time only: “Taste me,” before trailing her panties over his face instead of her body. He could detect the aroma of her pussy under the cover of her perfume, and it sent a burst of energy through his body – she was unmistakably turned on – weren’t these girls supposed to be disinterested, dispassionate, when it came to work?
Then she brought a certain part of the panties over his nose, his mouth, and he could feel the dampness, the unmistakable moisture from her pussy.
He drew in a deep breath saturated with her secret scent, and then opened his mouth, tasting her savoury juices.
“We’re not allowed to do this,” she whispered, “but the security camera’s angled so they can’t tell in this booth.”
He wandered what she was talking about, and then suddenly her legs were either side of his head and her sweet pussy just above his face. He could smell her arousal, and looked up to find a little unspoken question in her expression. He craned his neck slightly, indicating his approval, and she sank slowly onto his mouth, her pussy instantly surprising him with its heat.
He rested his head back against the back of the seat, and allowed her to take the lead. She moved slowly, gently, stroking his lips and face with her labia, filling his sensual world with her wetness, her sweet arousal.
It was strange having such intimate contact with someone other than his wife – similar, but different. It was so incredible, though, savouring her like this.
He loved to hear the young girl’s cute moans as he pleasured her, he loved to savour her tangy juices. It was similar enough to make him suddenly feel comfort, that there were more fish in the sea even though his marriage was over. And yet different enough to give that added thrill, a thrill that harked back to the dawn of man where instinct was evolved, instinct requiring the spreading of the genes in as wide a circle as possible.
Candice was so wet, her pussy flooding with nectar even before he slipped his tongue out from his mouth and started to stroke it across her sensitive labia. She led his action, but he also did his part, straining his tongue to maximise her pleasure.