To be honest, I could even see her clit because it was so stiff and huge. It stood straight out, a beautiful, deep pink, begging me to lick and kiss it. My mouth watered, and my pole gave a jerk as electricity surged through my groin.
Meanwhile, the stripper seemed to know where I was despite the fact that it was dark in back. She slowly eased her leg off the pole until she was in a standing position again and began shimmying her hips, dancing over to the edge of the stage. Suddenly, she stepped off the stage, the spotlight still following her and began prancing through the crowd. Again, this is the Donkey, so she flirted with customers while making her way to the back. She’d bend over so that guys could lick her nipples. I saw one particularly slick dude reach around and fondle her sweet pinkness, getting his fingers wet and maybe even testing her hole. Oh yeah, he’d done it because she formed a round “O” with her mouth, mock outraged, and reached for his wallet.
The guy just chuckled and whipped out a hundred dollar bill, which the blonde dancer took with her teeth, delicately biting the fragile paper. God, what would it feel like to have those pearly whites nibbling on me? Pure heaven, that’s what.
But as if sensing my presence, she began dancing through the tables, slowly making her way over to me with a coy smile. Finally, the pretty dancer stood before me, her golden flesh on display, her curly blonde hair tossing this way and that. Astonished, I saw that she was blonde below too because her pussy lips had the faintest trace of golden down on them. Otherwise, she was as nude and nubile as a teenage girl.
“Hey stranger,” she purred throatily while shooting me a seductive look. “You look lonely tonight.”
Honestly, the woman was right because I was lonely. The hours upon hours of unending practice were making Mason Phillips a dull boy. I was fucking sick of it and decided to go wherever this girl led.
“Yeah I am,” I smiled as my eyes traced up and down those sassy curves. Fuck, I hadn’t been with a woman in a while and she’d be a great ride.
“Got your wallet with you?” she purred again, sidling onto my lap.
“Little girl, I’ve got a wallet and everything inside is for you,” I growled while letting my hands slip and slide all over her sinuous form. I cupped a breast in a big hand, weighing it in my massive palm, before testing her nip between my forefinger and thumb. It was stiff and hard because the gorgeous dancer was turned on, and this was no act.
As if to emphasize the point, she rubbed her slickness against my leg and I could feel the material growing damp from her cream. Oh shit, there was going to be white fluid caked on the fabric afterwards but I didn’t give a fuck. A woman’s essence is the best kind of stain to have.
“You want to share something with me?” I growled, bending down to burrow my face in the crook of her neck while inhaling the sweet scents of jasmine and musk.
“Oh yeah, stranger,” she giggled while rubbing her slit against me again. This time I couldn’t resist and passed a big hand between her legs, seeking that clit. It wasn’t hard to find because it was stiff and the size of a large peanut. Even more, she was utterly drenched and moaned a bit, throwing her head back against my shoulder. If I’d been hard before, I was like steel now. My stiff shaft was pressing insistently into the small of her back and she let out a small giggle before turning to look at me.
“Meet me out back after my set ends, stranger,” she purred before getting up.
I could only nod, too aroused to even speak at this point. But then the sassy woman surprised me because she reached a hand behind her until her fingers brushed against my zipper and, oh God, was she going to? Was she really?
Yes, she did. Her clever fingers undid my zip, letting my pole spring free. But instead of giving me a hand job, the dancer stopped moving and instead turned to stare at me with shocked eyes, and I knew why. It’s because I’m huge down there. I’m ten inches and utterly massive around the base. It’s not easy for any woman to handle, and whenever I wear my Speedo, women gasp.
But I’m one hundred percent natural, and merely think of it as my “fifth appendage” if you will. If only it could propel me through water, I’d win every event at the Olympics.
But the beautiful dancer was now hesitating, her hand trying to circle the base while testing its size and strength.