Sweet Sins by E. L. Todd

Cassandra do nasty things was so much better than going to a dirty strip club. She blew all those girls out of the water. I ran my fingers through my hair anxiously, unable to sit still. I was so excited.
    When it was exactly five minutes, I bolted up the stairs, eager to catch a glimpse of my lady. I wondered what lingerie she was wearing. Was it black or red? Did it push up her chest and make her boobs look like melons? My mind kept working in overdrive.
    When I entered the bedroom, it was dark. Only lit candle s illuminated the room. A chair was next to the bed.
    “Sit.”
    I turned to her, seeing her lean on a pole. When the fuck did we get a stripper pole in our room?
    “Don’t talk.”
    I shut my mouth quickly.
    “Now sit down.” She wore black garters that attached to her gray stockings. She wasn’t wearing a corset, which I was thankful for. I didn’t want her to hide her stomach from me. If she wanted to get me hard, that was the best way to do it. She wore a lacy black bra that made her breasts look fuckable. She didn’t wear heels, which pleased me. She shouldn’t be wearing them. I sat in the chair and adjusted my hard-on so it wouldn’t break through my slacks.
    She sauntered over to me, giving me a good look at her puffed hair. She still didn’t wear any make up, but I liked that. I could see my Cassandra. She picked up a bottle of whiskey and poured it into a short glass. “For the gentleman.” She placed it directly in my hand. As soon as I felt my hand touch hers, I wanted to pull her into my lap.
    “You know, I didn’t expect to do anything like this on our last night together,” I said. “I figured we’d make love and talk through the night.”
    “We have the rest of our lives to be romantic.”
    Her words made me shiver.
    “Now shut up.”
    I smirked, loving her no bullshit attitude. “Yes, ma’am.”
    She hooked in her iPod then turned on the music, something loud and fast. “For the record, I’m not a professional.”
    “I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” I yelled over the music.
    She grabbed a cigar from between her breasts and handed it to me. I smelled it but didn’t light it, not wanting to smoke around a pregnant woman. She smiled then walked back to the pole.
    I knew she was inexperienced, judging the hesitation on her face, but it was still the best show I’d ever seen. All other women had nothing on Cassandra. I leaned back and drank my whiskey, watching her spin around the pole and dance around it. She didn’t do any moves or hold her body over the pole, but she danced with it, showing her ass in my face. She didn’t look at me while she moved, pretending I didn’t exist. I sat in my dark corner and felt my cock throb while I watched her. She pressed her back to the pole then grabbed the pole overhead, the bar right between her cheeks. Then she slid down then back up again.
    “Fuck.” I adjusted myself again because my cock didn’t want to be restrained.
    She was sexy without even trying. She was a natural at everything she did. Even with no experience and never touching a pole in her life, she could walk into any strip club and ask for a job. Without a doubt, any club owner would hire her on the spot. Her toned arms and legs showed her fitness, and her bulging stomach just made the scene hotter. I like knowing this private show was just for me. She would never do this for anyone else. She was mine.
    Thirty minutes passed and I was starting to get impatient. I wanted the show to end, not because she wasn’t fucking fantastic, but because my balls were blue. I wanted to be inside her now, to fuck her into the mattress and come inside her.
    “You want a lap dance?” she asked.
    I patted my thigh and winked at her.
    “It’s gonna cost you.”
    “How much?”
    “One heart.”
    “My fiancé already has that.”
    “Your bed.”
    “She has that too.”
    “Then whatever you have left.” She walked to me, shaking her hips.
    “I don’t have anything left.