her magnificent body to the entire room. Once again, her breasts fell out of the bustier, treating them to another glimpse of her dark red nipples. The man next to Damian moaned aloud, and it took every bit of strength in Damian’s body not to backhand him. Music welled up around them with a slow, throbbing beat.
She pulled herself back up, letting her feet drop to the floor, and then rubbed her clit against the pole. That delicate flush rose in her face once more. She turned to look at him, and for a moment they were alone together in the room, locked in a tunnel only they could detect. He knew she wanted him, knew she imagined his cock as she rubbed up and down the pole.
The flush in her face grew brighter, then her eyes closed, cutting him out. It was all about her now—she’d left him behind. The music continued to play, but she was oblivious, completely focused on the pole between her legs. This was different than any other performance he’d seen in a strip club. For one thing, she wasn’t making any moves to remove the rest of her clothing. She ground herself against the pole, throwing her head back and moaning in time to the music. Her face tightened, and she panted noticeably. She strained, pushing, driving herself against the pole. She wasn’t performing for anyone, that was clear enough. That the men around her were enjoying the show were immaterial.
This was all about her.
Her face grew tighter, the red flush growing bright. Her face twisted and then she screamed, her cry breaking the spell that had fallen over them.
He felt an answering surge within himself, and he bit his lip, closing his eyes tightly.
For one horrible moment he thought he might come in his pants; just the thought was unbearable.
He regained control of himself, shifting again and wishing desperately that his leathers weren’t so tight. The pressure was almost unbearable.
He opened his eyes to discover her collapsed on the floor, panting, breasts heaving.
She lay there for what seemed an eternity, gasping for breath and flushed with ecstasy.
At first it seemed spontaneous, but slowly he realized that even her heaving breaths were coming in time with the music. She drifted across the stage, somehow using the pulsing motions of her body to move herself toward him in time with the music. Then she rolled to her stomach and her eyes met his. Once again, that tunnel opened up between them. They could have been alone for all the notice they gave the pulsing crowd.
He leaned forward, unable to control himself, and she gave him a feline smile.
She glided across the floor toward him, each motion taking an eternity. He sat mesmerized, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t turn away, that this wasn’t just one more part of her routine. He wasn’t sure he could bear that. He knew it wasn’t when she reached the edge of the stage and stopped to look directly at him. Her head bobbed like that of a snake. She had certainly charmed him. He felt a trickle of sweat bead up on his forehead, and raised one hand to wipe it away. At that moment he would have given her anything, anything at all, just for ten minutes of her time.
She leaned forward, giving him a close-up view of her magnificent breasts, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was her face, her eyes—deep pools of sparkling green that he wanted to crawl into. Closer and closer she came, teetering on the edge of the stage, her face all but touching his. Her tongue flicked out, as if scenting him, and then she licked him slowly across one cheek.
The man sitting next to him moaned again.
Then she drew back, her face very serious.
“You’re mine for tonight,” she said, her low voice cutting through the music for his ears only. He nodded, realizing he was the luckiest man in the room.
She had chosen him as her toy, and he was grateful for the honor.
* * * * *
Cybele studied his face as she backed away, turning the slightly salty taste of him over in her mouth.
She
She pulled herself back up, letting her feet drop to the floor, and then rubbed her clit against the pole. That delicate flush rose in her face once more. She turned to look at him, and for a moment they were alone together in the room, locked in a tunnel only they could detect. He knew she wanted him, knew she imagined his cock as she rubbed up and down the pole.
The flush in her face grew brighter, then her eyes closed, cutting him out. It was all about her now—she’d left him behind. The music continued to play, but she was oblivious, completely focused on the pole between her legs. This was different than any other performance he’d seen in a strip club. For one thing, she wasn’t making any moves to remove the rest of her clothing. She ground herself against the pole, throwing her head back and moaning in time to the music. Her face tightened, and she panted noticeably. She strained, pushing, driving herself against the pole. She wasn’t performing for anyone, that was clear enough. That the men around her were enjoying the show were immaterial.
This was all about her.
Her face grew tighter, the red flush growing bright. Her face twisted and then she screamed, her cry breaking the spell that had fallen over them.
He felt an answering surge within himself, and he bit his lip, closing his eyes tightly.
For one horrible moment he thought he might come in his pants; just the thought was unbearable.
He regained control of himself, shifting again and wishing desperately that his leathers weren’t so tight. The pressure was almost unbearable.
He opened his eyes to discover her collapsed on the floor, panting, breasts heaving.
She lay there for what seemed an eternity, gasping for breath and flushed with ecstasy.
At first it seemed spontaneous, but slowly he realized that even her heaving breaths were coming in time with the music. She drifted across the stage, somehow using the pulsing motions of her body to move herself toward him in time with the music. Then she rolled to her stomach and her eyes met his. Once again, that tunnel opened up between them. They could have been alone for all the notice they gave the pulsing crowd.
He leaned forward, unable to control himself, and she gave him a feline smile.
She glided across the floor toward him, each motion taking an eternity. He sat mesmerized, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t turn away, that this wasn’t just one more part of her routine. He wasn’t sure he could bear that. He knew it wasn’t when she reached the edge of the stage and stopped to look directly at him. Her head bobbed like that of a snake. She had certainly charmed him. He felt a trickle of sweat bead up on his forehead, and raised one hand to wipe it away. At that moment he would have given her anything, anything at all, just for ten minutes of her time.
She leaned forward, giving him a close-up view of her magnificent breasts, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was her face, her eyes—deep pools of sparkling green that he wanted to crawl into. Closer and closer she came, teetering on the edge of the stage, her face all but touching his. Her tongue flicked out, as if scenting him, and then she licked him slowly across one cheek.
The man sitting next to him moaned again.
Then she drew back, her face very serious.
“You’re mine for tonight,” she said, her low voice cutting through the music for his ears only. He nodded, realizing he was the luckiest man in the room.
She had chosen him as her toy, and he was grateful for the honor.
* * * * *
Cybele studied his face as she backed away, turning the slightly salty taste of him over in her mouth.
She
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