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Get a grip! I tell myself to calm down as I keep twirling around the pole.

But that's when something really funny happens. Dollar bills start dropping around me and people start cheering and hollering. I can look into the faces finally, and I see desire.

Desire for me! Lust for me! Guys rubbing their crotch looking at me as I bend over and slowly take off my tank top.

I start getting into it and turn my back to the audience, holding onto the pole and trying to remember the three pole dancing classes I took a while back with Jenna. I slowly slide down, sticking my ass out and wiggling it.

The dollar bills start coming down.

I wrap my leg around the pole and run my hands down the material of my bra and over my stomach until I rest them on my ass. I turn my head back and give my ass a smack.

People are loving this and I feel so sexy.

This is exactly what I needed to feel desired and sexy again! And I'm completely sober. Endorphins are rushing through me as I start unzipping my skirt.

I wonder what Mike is thinking. But all of a sudden, I don't really care. There are men out there in the world that want me.

I turn around and face the audience again and nestle the pole against my ass, slowly peeling off my skirt.

I see the mirror up on the ceiling. Mike told me it's a one-way mirror. That's where the Prince went to after he stalked in.

All of a sudden, Derrick’ body is all I'm thinking about. I'm not dancing for the dollar bills, or the various men who revel in the lust that my body arouses.

I'm dancing for the bad boy prince.

As his bad girl.

I peel my skirt off, and I run my hands over the black thong that covers my pussy.

I barely register that the crowd is eating this up. I've probably received more money while keeping my clothes on than the last several girls did taking them off.

I sink down to my knees and begin caressing my body, reveling in the sensation.

I tell myself that the Prince is up there, watching me. And it makes me get wet.

I slip a finger underneath my thong and look up the mirror.

And then...the music stops.

My two minutes are over.

And there is no Prince.

Derrick

Fucking Christ!

Why can't I get the fucking girl on stage out of my head? It's like I'm fucking hypnotized by her swaying. She's got a fucking amazingly tight body and I'm staring at her as she takes off her tank top.

Fuck, where the fuck have I seen her before? She seems so fucking familiar.

She's turning around and my mind goes crazy looking at her ass. My private room's on the second floor, but I made sure it has a fucking good view of the stage. And right now I'm happy for every penny that it fucking cost because I'm looking at the stripper on stage as she's dancing and shaking her ass and my cock is twitching like it's gone fucking mental.

Marta is moaning beneath me but I'm not even aware of her existence.

All I can fucking think of is the girl on stage.

What did the DJ announce her as when she came on? Right as I started to fuck Marta?


Tags: Alexis Angel Billionaire Romance