“Thank you,” I respond.
“What can I get you to drink?” A beautiful, busty brunette sidles up to us. She is indeed topless, and I can’t help staring at her beautiful tits.
“I’ll have three fingers of Macallan, twelve-year-old,” I tell her, meeting green eyes that dart between my best friend and me. She nods and peeks over at Dom, who orders his signature bourbon.
As soon as our waitress disappears, another stunning brunette strolls up – no — stalks up to us clad in a sheer, red dress that hangs to her ankles. Underneath, she’s wearing a pair of panties that could be ripped off with my teeth. Her bra is just as tiny, barely covering her incredible tits.
“Gentlemen.” She purrs the word like a kitten, and I picture her on her knees, lapping at my cock. “Would you like a personal tour of the club?” She runs a blood-red fingernail over the shoulder of my suit jacket. If she’s intent on taunting me, it’s working. My zipper is starting to feel very restrictive as she leans in closer. “I have a very special show for you both as new clients.”
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” I tell her. Dom and I follow her through the club. She signals our waitress, who nods.
Moving through the room, I take in the groups of men sitting around tables where girls are swaying, gyrating, and smiling down at the old fuckers who are flicking hundred-dollar bills at them.
We’re led into a circular room that has a pole in the center and plush merlot-colored sofas. There are see-through curtains hanging from the walls where red light shines through, creating warmth in the room.
The brunette turns to us and smiles. “Get comfortable, gentlemen,” she tells us while the waitress sets our drinks on the small side tables on either end of the sofas. I settle into the cushions, lifting the tumbler to my lips.
This club is owned by one of the well-known leaders of the Mafia. And being in here only sets me on edge. My past is littered with darkness—things I’ve done were questionable. Since I’ve been in America, I’ve tried to keep my nose clean. Still, being in Portland, I’ve met many wings of the Italian American Mafia.
“I’m the club manager, Alejandra. If you need anything at all, gentlemen, you’re welcome to it. I’ll leave you to enjoy the show now.” Within the darkness, only the podium is lit, and the pole is gleaming in the low light.
Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a long sip of the strong liquid. A burn trails from my tongue down my throat and warms my chest as I savor the alcohol. A much-needed drink after the long day.
I watch Alejandra walk out, her hips swaying back and forth, and my cock jolts at the sight. I’m tempted to ask for an hour alone with her. I’ve always loved women who are curvy, voluptuous, and delicious.
“I look forward to it,” I murmur under my breath, tipping my glass in a cheers gesture. Just then, the curtain opens, and two women stroll into the room. One is what I would call a tigress, and I know immediately she’s for Dominic. Her body is lithe, long, tanned legs, and an ass you could bounce a penny off. Her tits are more than a handful, and I imagine he would want to slide his cock between them, at least I know I would.
Her eyes are green, the color of a forest. Deep and endless. She takes two steps up to Dom, and he’s on his feet. “Hi,” she greets in a sultry, sinful tone, and his smile says it all.
“Hello,” the girl before me smiles. She’s shy, perhaps new to this job, but I’ll be fucked, she’s incredible.
“Darling.” I smile, crooking my finger, calling her closer. She settles herself, straddling my lap. “You’re quite a sight,” I tell her, lifting my hand to grip the dark chocolate curls that hang down her shoulders. Her breasts are a handful, perhaps a B-cup. But it’s her body that’s got me hard as fuck.
“I’m Antonia,” she tells me. Sweet little Italian girls are too tempting. “You’re from England?” Her question is pure curiosity, and I nod.
“I am, darling.” My hand trails down her arm, feeling the silky skin beneath my fingers. “How about you move those hips?” I lower my chin, my gaze dropping to her thighs. The tiny pair of panties she’s wearing cup her cunt like a second skin. Her pussy lips taunt me, and I’m dying to touch her, but we can’t. I’ve been to many strip clubs before.
The rules.
“Make me come with those moves,” I order, and she continues her little lap dance. Moving her hips over my groin, rubbing her core over my growing erection, causing me to drop my head back and close my eyes. The sensation is incredible. Her heat is intoxicating, and it doesn’t take long before my balls tighten, and my release is close. “Stop,” I urge, gripping her hips to stop moving.