Scream For me

FOR MY EYES ONLY

BRIDGET

I look around the nearly deserted parking lot while I gather up my courage before going inside. Nothing looks quite as sad as a strip club in the light of day. I know as soon as the sun goes down it’s going to be packed with loud music filtering out into the crowded parking lot and the neon signs all lit up, but right now it looks desolate and rundown.

Looking at my phone, I realize I have five minutes to get my ass inside. I have a job interview with the manager and being late would not look good. I take a deep, steadying breath. I can do this, I tell myself. So what if I’m a virgin applying for a stripper position? It’s not like you can tell I have a hymen just by looking at me. I can fake sexy. I can make this work. My only other option is minimum wage at the nursing home, and there’s no way in fuck I’m doing that.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I fix a wayward hair and check to make sure my makeup still looks good. Getting out of the car, I pretend that I’m perfectly comfortable wearing a tiny top, a skirt that shows half my ass, and heels that could easily be used as a murder weapon. When I walk inside, I’m surprised by how big the place is. I was expecting a tiny, grungy place with a sort of dive bar feel, but this place is huge and pretty impressive.

There’s a sleek bar on either side of the room, tables scattered throughout, several big stages, and more stripper poles than I can count. My heart starts to race, and I seriously think about just running away when a deep voice freezes me in place.

“Can I help you?”Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

I turn and nearly fall onto my ass when my knees threaten to give out at the sight of the man standing in front of me. With these ridiculous heels, I’m at nearly six feet, and he still towers above me, making me feel downright dainty. His dark suit is doing nothing to hide the wall of muscle that he is, and by the time my eyes get to his face, I’ve already soaked through my thong and am practically panting. His hair is mostly black with a tiny bit of grey showing through and the bluest damn eyes I’ve ever seen.

His sculpted jaw is covered in a day’s worth of stubble, and I have the very sudden, very insane urge to step forward and lick him.

“I’ve never seen you before.” His eyes run over me slowly. “Are you here for a job interview?”

I stand there like an idiot, watching his lips quirk up into an amused grin, and the flush of embarrassment is enough to finally kick my ass in gear.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m Bridget. I’m here for a job interview.”

“Mr. King,” a woman’s voice calls from across the bar. She walks over and I do my best to not shrink in on myself. She’s beautiful, blonde, and has a body that I’d kill to have. When she’s closer, she gives the man I’ve just secretly fallen in love with a big smile that has me wanting to punch her. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll go ahead and take over.”

I realize she must be Miss Simmons, the manager who’s conducting my job interview. Wonderful. I’m already thinking up an escape plan when Mr. King says, “That’s okay, Megan. I’m going to go ahead and take over the interview.”

Megan looks like she’s just gotten the shock of her life before she quickly recovers and plasters on that fake, winning smile again. “Of course,

Mr. King. Would you like me to sit in with you?”

Mr. King doesn’t even spare her a look. He just keeps his eyes on me and says, “No, I’ll be handling this privately.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

When Mr. King doesn’t add anything, she shoots me a quick, pissed-off look and walks away.

“I’m Dominic King,” he says, extending a large hand to me. “I own this club.”

I shake his hand, biting back a groan when our palms make contact. I swear I feel it like a caress along my poor, achy pussy, and my nipples are so damn hard I can barely stand it. There’s a very amused look on his gorgeous face, and I wonder if he can tell how aroused I am.

“Please, follow me,” he says, finally taking his hand away and making me instantly miss the feel of him.

He leads me to a small room off the main area. There’s soft, sexy music playing and a chair and a pole and mirrors all over the fucking place. My cheeks go crimson when I look ahead and see a perfect shot of me from behind. God, I hadn’t realized I was showing that much ass! I watch Mr.

King takes a seat and crosses his ankle over his knee before resting his elbows on the sides of the chair and steepling his fingers. He gives me an intense stare, and my knees start to shake when I realize that I’m going to have to dance in front of him.

“Start whenever you like,” he calmly says like we’re just waiting for me to show him how many words a minute I can type.

“You want me to dance? Now?”

He gives me a sexy smile that has me so wet I can feel it on my inner thighs. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Then yes,” he says, wearing that same sexy, confident smile.

I watch him for a second, wondering what in the hell I’m going to do. I can run out of here and never step foot in this place again, meaning I’ll never get to see him again, and the idea of it has me instantly rebelling against this option. So what if I’m nervous? Life is about getting out of your comfort zone and trying new things, so why not try something different? I want to be bold and sexy, and I want to see this gorgeous man get hard from watching me. I want to see his hunger for me, and I want to turn him on so much that he’ll fuck me and give me what I want.

I want to ride this sexy man’s cock right here in this private, mirrored, stripper room, and with that image firmly in place, I smile at him and grab onto the pole. Pushing all my nerves aside, I focus on the music and start to sway my hips, finally putting all those hours of practicing in front of a mirror at home to good use.

When I’ve circled the pole a few times, I finally work up the nerve to look at sexy Mr. King and what I see nearly has me losing my balance and falling on my ass. His jaw is clenched so tightly it looks painful, and the raw desire in his eyes makes me feel downright giddy. Confidence rushes over me, and when I turn my back on him and bend over, giving him an eyeful of barely covered pussy and ass, I hear him let out a deep groan that has me smiling when I straighten back up.

I start to walk toward him, and when I glance over his shoulder at the wall of mirrors behind him, I barely recognize the woman I’ve become. Gone is the shy, embarrassed woman who first walked into this room, and in her place is a determined, horny-as-fuck young virgin who’s dying to get her cherry popped and has finally found the perfect man for the job.

When I’m close enough, I bend down and rest my hands on his thighs, gently parting his legs so I can step between them.

“This isn’t part of the interview process,” he says, and I smile at how strained his voice sounds.

When I slide my hands further up, he sucks in a quick breath and grips the arms of the chair, eyeing me like he wants to grab onto me and fuck the living hell out of me.

Good. I see my plan is working.

It’s my turn to let out a soft gasp when my fingers touch his very large, very hard cock.

“Careful, little girl,” he warns.

I give him an innocent smile. “I just want to practice my lap dancing skills.”

“Have you ever given one?”

He asks it casually, but something tells me this question means more to him than he’s letting on, so I tell him the truth.

“No, I’ve never danced like this for anyone.”

“Good,” he growls, making my pussy clench with a need unlike anything I’ve ever felt. “Dance for me, baby. Let me see what you’ve got.”

He arches a brow at me, waiting for me to go on, and I’d be mortified right now if it wasn’t for the heat in his eyes and the obvious erection he’s sporting. God, he’s huge, and my need to grind against him outweighs everything else.

Wanting to draw it out a bit, I turn around and dance for him some more, knowing that his eyes are glued to my every move even if I can’t see him. Grabbing onto the arms of the chair, I lower my ass onto his lap and start to roll my hips, grinding against him, groaning when I feel the hard length of him beneath me.

“Fuck,” he groans, making me feel like the most powerful woman in the world.

High on this feeling, I get up and turn around, watching him as I unzip the tiny top I’m wearing, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes widen ever so slightly when he takes in the sparkling pasties I’m wearing that barely cover my areolae. When I give my tits a shake and he fists his hands as my full tits bounce and my hips rock and sway in a hypnotizing rhythm, I know I have him right where I want him.

Giving him a wicked grin, I straddle his lap and continue to work my hips while slowly lowering myself. My tight skirt rides up the more I lower myself so by the time I press my pussy against him, there’s nothing between us but his pants and a tiny, soaked piece of fabric. I notice he’s adjusted himself while I was turned away so the hard line of his cock is right exactly where I need it.

He watches me with a feral look as I grind against him, more frustrated than I’ve ever been in my life, and when I run my hands down his hard chest and abs and start to undo his belt, he gives me a What the fuck do you think you’re doing? look.

“Please,” I beg, barely recognizing the sound of my voice.

“Is this how you planned on getting the job?” His face is suddenly dark and his tone angry, and I do my best to not shrink back from it.

“No, I would never do that. I don’t even care about the job anymore,” and it’s true. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the job. All I care about is getting this sexy, older man to fuck me. He’s ignited something inside me, and I feel like I’m being burned alive from the inside. I need this growing, gnawing pain to go away. I need release. I need to cum all over his thick cock, and I need to do it now.

“Good because the interview is over. What you do next, you do because you want to and nothing else.” He grabs my wrists and holds them tightly, pulling them from his pants, and when I let out an angry groan, he gives me a wicked grin and tightens his hold on me.

“You want to cum, little girl?”

“God yes,” I moan, my hips still rocking against him.

“Then do it.”