Chapter Eighteen #3
As we follow the hostess, my eyes dart around the club.
There’s a gorgeous woman gracefully dancing on the stage, using the pole as her prop.
She’s topless, and her breasts are perky and perfectly tanned.
Her hair is pin-straight and her makeup is on point.
She smiles seductively at the crowd of men who are sitting around the stage as she peels herself from the pole and removes her panties.
The men, who appear to be deep in conversation, look her way occasionally, but aren’t salivating over her like I imagined.
I saw a movie once about a stripper. The men were standing close and throwing dollar bills onto the stage.
But here, the men are dressed in suits with drinks in their hands, talking to one another.
It’s as if the dancer on stage is nothing more than a back drop.
If the stage wasn’t front and center, I would think this club was a men’s lounge of some sort.
We walk up the winding staircase to the right of the stage, and once we’re at the top, Marlene shows us to our table.
In order to get to it, she has to open the black velvet rope that has a sign hanging from it, indicating this is VIP.
The table is a half-moon shape, similar to the ones downstairs, but instead of the comfy reading chairs, there are two two-person love seats.
Next to the table is a standing bucket of ice with a bottle of alcohol nestled inside.
Unlike downstairs, this floor has several different mini-stages.
I notice the stage in front of our area is empty, and when I glance around, I see each area has their own stage.
Apparently VIPs get their own personal show.
There are no less than three bars up here—one in each corner.
And then in the back corner, there’s a hallway.
I’m not sure what’s back there. Maybe the bathrooms?
“Your dancer, Christy, will be out in a few minutes. Naomi will be your server and she will make sure whatever you need is taken care of.”
Ethan nods once and pulls me onto the loveseat with him. It’s leather and plush and I sink into Ethan’s side comfortably as he drapes his arm around my shoulders.
“Dom Perignon,” Blaire says, lifting the bottle and smirking at Ethan. “Impeccable taste.”
A new woman appears, introducing herself as Naomi. Blaire and Victor sit together in the other loveseat while Naomi opens the bottle and pours each of us a glass.
“To Victor and Blaire and their engagement,” Ethan says, raising his glass.
Everyone takes a sip. Unlike the fruity drinks I’ve grown to love, this is bitter with a hint of sweet, and I can taste the alcohol in it. I would prefer a fruity drink, but I don’t want to sound ungrateful, so I keep my comments to myself.
“And to Nevaeh and her first time at a strip club,” Blaire adds with a giggle.
Everyone takes another drink, so I forcefully swallow another gulp. When I set the drink down, having no desire to finish it, Ethan shakes his head and laughs.
“What?”
“You’re just so damn adorable. You prefer a blueberry martini over a bottle of Dom.”
Because he’s not wrong, I just shrug and snuggle into his side. When Naomi walks over, Ethan, despite me telling him that’s not necessary, orders me my favorite drink.
The music and lights lower, and then a new song starts up.
The stage lights up and a beautiful raven-haired woman steps onto the stage.
She’s wearing a gorgeous white leather outfit with matching heels.
She makes eye contact with us, and her smile is as beautiful as she is.
We watch quietly as she performs solely for us.
I’ve never seen a woman dance erotically before, let alone strip while she’s doing it, so I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect.
And I don’t think even in my wildest dreams I would’ve expected to feel…
aroused. Turned on. But as I watch her slowly remove her clothes while dancing on stage, I find myself squirming in my seat.
Her dancing isn’t just sexual, it’s sensual and intimate, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
She’s nothing like what I imagined. She’s classy and obviously knows her way around the stage.
She’s doing more than stripping, she’s performing.
“If I pushed my fingers into you right now, would you be wet?” Ethan whispers into my ear. I tighten my thighs, seeking relief, and Ethan chuckles. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’re completely fucking turned on right now.”
“Are you?” I ask, a bit too harshly. Being pleasured is new to me, but ever since Ethan gave me my first real orgasm, I find myself craving them—craving the release, the closeness.
“Yeah, I am,” he admits, and my heart plummets into my stomach.
I don’t know why I’m upset by his words.
We’re at a strip club. Did I really expect him not to get turned on by the beautiful naked women?
“But not by her,” he clarifies. “I can practically smell your arousal from here. Watching you watch her has me hard as fuck.”
Ethan takes my hand and runs it over the top of his pants, showing me how hard he is. “I wonder how wet you would be if she came over here and danced for you.”
My eyes widen in shock. “She does that?” I don’t know if the idea of her dancing for me scares me or turns me on.
I glance back over at her and watch as she twirls around the pole, her voluptuous breasts on display.
Her hands come up and rub across her nipples, hardening them, before she brings her attention back to the pole.
Her toned thighs grip the metal and she does some sexy move, making her look more like a professional dancer than a stripper.
“Is that what you want, Angel? You want her to come over here and dance just for you?”
I swallow thickly, imagining her dancing close to me. Would she touch me? The thought sends a shiver down my spine. “Maybe,” I whisper.
The show ends and the woman disappears behind the curtain.
I notice for the first time my blueberry martini is here, so I take a large sip of it.
Blaire and Victor and Ethan talk about the club and how Ethan has been friends with the owner, Benjamin, for years.
When Naomi comes over to refill everyone’s drinks, Ethan says something to her I can’t hear. She nods and walks away.
“I can’t believe you’re here, Nevaeh,” Blaire says. “Have you checked off any other items on your list?”
“Ethan taught me how to play cards,” I tell her through a smile as I remember our time at the casino, in the surveillance room, where he gave me an earth-shattering orgasm.
The thought must make me outwardly blush, because Blaire laughs and says, “I have a feeling that’s not the only thing he’s taught you.”
Ethan laughs, and I blush harder.
Before I can confirm or deny, a new song starts up and the lights dim down lower. I turn my attention to the stage, but quickly realize the dancer—Christy—isn’t on the stage, but standing right in front of me.
She’s wearing black, lacy shorty-shorts and heels, and is topless, with glittery stars covering her nipples. She smiles at me, and I swallow thickly, wondering what Ethan has done.
I don’t have to wait long to find out, though.
Christy raises her arms and seductively sways her hips from side to side.
Blaire giggles from her seat, while I watch her dance with rapt attention, my eyes never straying from her.
I wonder why I’m so attracted to her. I’ve never felt a pull toward a woman before.
But then I realize it’s not that I’m attracted to a woman per se.
I’m attracted to how graceful and seductive she is.
She drips sensuality and confidence. She’s a gorgeous woman who is comfortable in her own skin and I want that for myself.
I want to be comfortable with my body, with my life, with myself.
When she uses the arm of the love seat to support her and her legs straddle my own, I glance over at Ethan, who isn’t looking at the dancer, but at me. His eyes are blazing with want—for me—and I squirm in my seat, wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Ethan chuckles, then, turning my face to him, claims my mouth.
His tongue slips through my parted lips, and I moan against his mouth.
His hands cup the sides of my face, as he deepens the kiss.
Forgetting about the woman dancing for me, I focus all my attention on Ethan.
And before I know what I’m doing, I’m scrambling into his lap, my legs straddling either side of him.
My fingers thread into his hair as I kiss him passionately.
My center rubs friction against the bulge in his pants, and we both groan into each other’s mouths at the same time.
The dancer is long forgotten as Ethan breaks our kiss and, gripping my hips tightly, licks up my throat.
“Hold on,” he growls, lifting me as he stands. I have no clue where he’s taking me, and I don’t pay attention. Instead I pepper kisses all over his stubbled jaw, nibble on his earlobe, and suckle on the side of his neck.
He sets me down on a counter, and when I look around I realize we’re in the bathroom.
It’s as beautiful and upscale as the rest of the club.
Ethan pulls my pants and underwear down my thighs and spreads my legs as far as they can go.
He licks up my center a couple times before he devours my pussy—eating me until I’m screaming his name as my climax racks my entire body.
When I’ve come down from my high, I glance down at Ethan, whose eyes are glossed over with lust. “My turn,” I say, reaching for his dick.
He laughs, but doesn’t stop me, as I jump off the counter and kneel in front of him, pleasuring him the same way he just pleasured me.
When he’s ready to come, he warns me, but unlike last time, I don’t stop, instead taking everything he has to give. And my God, does he give…