every friday on the 2nd and 4th week of the month, he always came
stripper AU, male!dom, impact play, lots of slapping, begging, praise, oral, grinding, fingering, penetration
Every Friday on the 2nd and 4th week of the month, his face always pops up in your head the moment you wake up. He was distinctive and if you were to see him walking down the street, you would instantly recognize him. However, you never did run into him on the street.
You never knew his name. In fact, names were never exchanged but in some weird way, it felt like he knew all your darkest secrets and somehow, you knew his too. And there was this weird world for only about 2 hours every two weeks where the two of you lived in your own little planet.
He always showed up, on the Friday of the 2nd and 4th week of the month. And today was no different.
Even with the dim lights of the establishment, you could easily recognize his face- his sculpted jawline, his warm chocolate skin, and the depths of his bottomless eyes that never seemed to leave your body.
Even with the obnoxious music that allows for minimal conversation and the scent of the air that is a mix of sweat and arousal, the stage never felt better.
The bright lights make it hard to see in the dark room, but there's no doubt about where he's sitting. After all, he always sits in the same seat just like he did when he first came in a couple months ago.
While you dance on stage, you blatantly ignore making eye contact with him- probably because of your pitiful pride. Because you knew once you stepped off the stage, your eyes would be on him only.
Even with tens of pairs of eyes glancing over your body, the show is for him only but perhaps you're a little too flirty with the people throwing money on stage and shouting out vulgar sentences at you. In your mind, if he had no intention of coming closer to the stage, he would only be forced to share you with the other members of the club. That is until the show was over.
It all becomes a blur- the movements of your body, the number of dollar bills picked up, and especially the faces who treated you so well because the only person you can think of is him.
You rush to get off stage, touching yourself up before heading to a private room which you already knew the man was sitting inside of.
The nerves inside of you are already jumping with excitement and you take two deep breaths with a hand over the center of your chest before opening the door.
He's seated no different than you had expected, one leg propped on the other and an arm laying across the back of the couch.
"Nice show," he compliments with a voice like silk.
"You were watching? I hadn't notice," you say with a teasing tone, only to earn a scoff from the man across from you.
"Come here, sexy."
You make your way over and his arms wrap around your waist, bringing your knee to support you on the couch while your wrists link themselves together behind his neck. "The usual?" you question.
And to your question, he responds with his own and of course, his words are coated with sarcasm. "Why? The usual isn't enough for you?"
You blush at the thought, using a finger to tilt his gaze upwards till you plant a warm kiss on his luscious lips.
The kiss is tender and soft. It perfectly matches the calm tone of the private room that you've been in so many times before. His hands are large and you can distinctively feel every shape as they travel from your waist down to below the curve of your ass.
