Walk Of Shame(90)

I make it down the hall and stop directly in front of the door, labeled with the number ten, staring for a moment before pushing the door open and stepping inside. I close the door behind me and try not to pay attention to who is in the room.

Room ten is the biggest private room we have. It’s used for rich clients that want to remain discrete and don’t want their faces shown to the public. Off in the back of the room, there’s a huge leather chair for the client to relax in, and a light switch, giving them the option of showing their face or not. Lucky for me, this client wants to be kept a secret. It makes it easier to dance when I don’t have to look into the creepy eyes that are glued to my every move. It’s hard to be sexy when you feel so damn gross sometimes, as if the filth is sticking to you just by being in the room.

Pushing all thoughts aside, I walk past the darkened corner, taking long, smooth steps, and swaying my hips on my way up to the stage. The music is already playing a slow, sexy song; perfect for getting aroused to.

Standing with my back against the pole, I bring one arm back to wrap around it, and slowly lowering my body down the pole, while rubbing my other hand down the center of my body, over the white lace. Once I get close to the ground, I spread my knees apart and lower my hand some more, biting my bottom lip, seductively.

I sway my hips to the rhythm of the music, releasing the pole, and wrapping my hands in my hair, tugging as I make my way back up the pole in a stance. I make sure to look in the direction of the darkened corner to verify to the client I’m indeed dancing for his pleasure and his alone. This usually helps me get additional tips on top of what I already get for doing the private dance.

Slowly turning around, I wrap one leg around the pole and arch my back, swinging my wild hair around, before gripping the pole and spinning around it. I spin around a few times, moving seductively to the music, before releasing the pole, walking to the edge of the small stage, and reaching for the ribbon that’s holding my corset together.

Pretending as if I’m looking directly in the mysterious guy’s eyes, I lower myself to the surface of the stage, down to my ass, and spread my legs wide apart, revealing the sheer lace that’s in between. I slightly tug the ribbon, opening my top a little more, and rolling my hips up and down with my back pressed against the stage.

I’m lost in my own little world, hoping to get this guy off, when all of a sudden I feel two hands grip my thighs and pull me to the edge of the stage. Out of instinct, I swing one leg up and wrap it around the guy’s neck, squeezing.

I expect for whoever it is to let go of my thighs and apologize, but to my surprise, I get a growl and a bite on the inside of my thigh.

I recognize the growl right away, and I can’t help the reaction that my body gets from it. My heart jumps to my throat and my whole body trembles with pleasure.

Another soft bite causes me to open my eyes to the sight of Hemy standing there, his hair pulled back, and his deep amber eyes set on me. His grip on my thighs tightens as I release his neck and lean my head back with my hands in my hair.

“Fucking shit, Hemy,” I bite out. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here? I told you-”

“Shhh . . .” he whispers against my thigh. “Don’t talk. I’m not here for that. I’m here to taste my pussy and remind you of what is mine.”

Before I can think of a response, my panties are pushed aside and Hemy moans out while running his thick finger over my slick folds. My body instantly reacts to his touch, causing me to moan out and bite my lip.

“You miss my mouth owning your pussy? It craves my tongue, doesn’t it, baby?” He runs a hand down my thigh while shoving a finger deep inside me, causing me to grip the stage. “Tell me how bad you want me to taste you,” he demands.

I look up at him, now getting a bit angry at him for making me admit it first. He’s doing this to see how badly I want him. It makes me want to slap him and then ride the shit out of him. He always had that effect on me.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper, looking up to meet his stare. “Maybe someone else has already claimed what was once yours.” I can’t resist but to push him back. One of us is bound to cave first.

Pulling my body up higher, he softly blows on my swollen clit while pushing his finger in and out. “You’ll always be mine, Onyx.” He squeezes my thigh and rubs his bottom lip up my heat, causing me to moan out silently. “This pussy . . . will always be mine. I claimed it six years ago when I made you my girl, and nothing has changed since.”

He runs his lip up my pussy again, teasing me with his lip ring. I’m fighting so hard to resist, but I can’t help it. Seeing Hemy dressed up, makes me want to have an orgasm right on the spot. Feeling his mouth on me almost has me exploding beneath him.