Wesley
Chapter twenty-six
I’ll give it to the bitch; she can fucking work a pole. There’s something about her though, almost familiar with the way she moves.
I showed up early and hid in the shadows at the back of the club to watch her. It was just a lucky fluke I got here just as they announced her to go on stage. Colt should’ve been here with me, but the pussy ass bitch chickened out.
For all his bitching about wanting to know what Sierra did, he didn’t show up for me to tell him.
So now I’m here to see this bitch Lilac that’s trying to worm her way into my dad’s pocket.
It’s okay, it’s his loss and he’ll regret it.
But I’m not here for him, I’m here for me and to make sure this bitch knows to keep her dirty ass pussy away from my father.
I watch from the edge of the room as she descends from the stage, stopping to talk to the guy at the edge. She even has her paws all over him, the epitome of a true slut. Wonder what my dad would think, knowing his slut has her hands all over another man.
It’s okay. Soon she’ll no longer be fucking with my family. I’m exhilarated at the thought of gazing upon her pathetic face as she tries to explain herself.
She disappears to the back, and I head over to the bar for a drink. The bartender just stares at me for a second, like he’s trying to decide if I’m of age.
“Is there a problem? I asked for a Jack and Coke.”
“Yeah, there is, preppy boy. I need an ID.” The beefhead barks arrogantly, and I want to punch him in the face.
I can’t do that, though. Not only would it get me kicked out of here, but the cops would get called.
I don’t need that. The last thing I want is Dad to know I was here.
I could get arrested, which would get back to not only Coach, but the college recruiters as well, and fuck my chances up for school.
He stares at my fake ID intensely, his eyes squinting, before he finally hands it back. His teeth clench as he makes my drink and I smirk as he hands it to me.
Take that asshole. My guy knows how to make an ID that’ll fool the police themselves. I turn back to scan the club as I sip on my drink, knowing I don’t need to be drunk when I confront the slut.
It’s about ten minutes later when I see her come back out.
She’s wearing a black thong and a sparkly multi-colored bra with a see-through mesh coverup.
The slut weaves through the tables, letting her fingertips glide across the men's shoulders. I wonder if their wives or girlfriends know they’re here.
Does this Lilac bitch know how many families she’s ruining?
My eyes stay glued to her, observing and analyzing every movement, trying to figure out why my dad would throw away his marriage for her. For any of the women he’s been with.
The more I watch her, the more something tugs at the back of my brain. The way she holds herself, the subtle way she tosses her hair as she talks, and how she shifts her weight back and forth on her feet. All of it is familiar.
But why? I’ve never seen her before. Not until now. Is my mind fucking with me?
I take another small sip, needing to keep my wits about me and not get drunk. My eyes are on her as she swings her legs over a burly man’s lap and straddles him, gyrating her hips on him to the beat of the rap song playing on the speaker.
With each move she makes, my anger rises. Fury at both my father and her. And Sierra. Most of it is steered towards her. She was my best friend, yet she actively sought to destroy my family.
And for what? What did she get from it?
Glancing at my watch, I see it’s getting close to ten and head over to the doorman, Len. I think that’s what he said his name was.
He’s right where he was when I got here, except this time he has a raven haired, tan skinned, busty stripper on his lap. Her hands cupping his crotch and he has a grin on his face.
“I’m here for time with Lilac.” I step up to him, my eyes perusing the length of the beauty on his lap. Too bad she’s a whore.
“Yeah man, hold on a sec.” He leans into the woman on his lap and whispers something that has her smiling from ear to ear as her cheeks pinken.
She rises from his lap, turns and kisses him deeply, before walking away. Her hips swing and just as she reaches the first table, she glances over her shoulder and winks.
“Okay, let’s go this way. You know the rules. No touching Lilac. Only thirty minutes and nothing more than dancing. Someone will be outside the door at all times, so don’t try anything or they’ll be taking you out of here on a stretcher.”
“Yeah, I heard them.” You’d think this bitch is the Queen of England with how many times they tell me I’m not allowed to touch her. Like I’d want to catch a disease.
He leads me down a dark hallway with doors on either side until we reach the end and he takes hold of the doorknob and opens it, gesturing for me to step inside.
“She’ll be in shortly,” he tells me before closing the door.
I take that moment to look around the room. It’s dimly lit, with strobing lights. In the middle of the room is a pole with a semi-circle couch around it. My stomach churns and I shiver, thinking of the bodily fluids it’s covered in.
The sound of Lizzo comes from above my head, and looking up, I see speakers mounted in the ceiling. On the wall across from me is a light dimmer switch and I move over to it, lowering the lights a little more, then slip on my mask.
It’s game time, baby.
Moving over to the couch, I sit directly in front of the pole, resting a hand on each of my thighs, and spreading my legs wide.
I keep glancing at my watch, watching the minutes pass until it clicks over ten PM. She should be here any minute.
A euphoria takes over my body, knowing I’m moments away from confronting one of the people responsible for fucking with my family and tearing my parents further apart.
The door opens and the purple-haired woman steps into the room. She’s in sky high heels, a sparkly bra with rhinestones and a skirt so short it barely covers her pussy, and I wonder if she’s bare underneath.
“Hello, sweetheart. Is there anything in particular you want?” Her voice is soft, almost inaudible over the music, but something is nagging at me about it.
“No,” I reply, lowering my voice, making it sound deeper. People have told me I sound like my father, so I’m trying to mask.
She moves across the room to the pole in front of me, her movements graceful, like a trained dancer instead of a paid whore. She takes hold of the pole and spins her body slowly around it before pressing her back to it.
Lilac faces me, as she seductively slides her back down the pole, her legs spread wide, exposing her barely covered pussy to me. The black lace fabric covering her cunt is partially see through and I can’t help how my cock stirs in response.
Hell, I’m a man. I expected it to happen!
She moves around the pole, rotating her hips until the first song is over.
The next one begins to play, but it’s more sultry, and her moves match it.
Lilac steps closer to me, then spins around so that her back is to me, swaying her hips, before sliding her fingers underneath the waistband of her skirt.
She slowly slides it down her legs until it drops to the floor and she steps out of it. Her ass cheeks are firmly on display in the G string she’s wearing. Bending over, she takes hold of her heels, peering at me through her spread legs as she wiggles her ass back and forth.
I can’t help but take in her body. At least my dad has good taste. She’s hot as hell with a body to die for. Her ass is plump as shit, and legs that I wouldn’t mind squeezing my head as I devour her cunt.
That’s what a whore’s good for anyway—fucking!
But then I see something that has me sitting taller, leaning forward to make sure it’s not a figment of my imagination. She stands back up and begins to dance again, but all I can fixate on is the scar right above the crease at the back of her knee. It’s jagged and identical to someone else’s.
“Do you like dancing?” I ask, needing to hear her voice again.
“I do. Especially for you,” she coos, only this time I can distinctly tell who she is. But has she recognized my voice?
She’s not let on that she recognizes me, and I’ve never been as thankful as I am now for choosing to wear a mask.
The rest of the time speeds by until she’s dancing before me in nothing but her G string. I’m ecstatic, plotting how I’m going to use this information.
Lilac is none other than Sierra fucking Jones. The bitch who ruined my life. And she’s gonna pay.
I don’t even wait for her to leave the room. As soon as the music ends, I’m up, dropping a few dollars on the floor at her feet on my way.
Stepping out of the room, I nod at the guy at the door and keep walking as he slips into the room.
I can’t wait to use this new information. My weekend just got better, and I’m eager to see what Colt, Brax, and Zan will think of their precious Sierra now, once they see she truly is a whore that sells her body for money.