Hey guys! I was listening to Ass Like That, and was like 'damn!! I need to do a one shot!' So here we are 😊 I was also talking to my best friend so yeah it might have gramma mistakes! Enjoy!
(May contain slight smut 😜)
Eminem walked into a private strip club, 50 Cent by his side and Nate on the other. He looked around, looking at the beautiful women who danced around. He knew that they'd give themselves to him without even thinking twice. If money was involved, they'd all want some.
He sat down in down, leaning back to get comfortable. He lazily looked around when he saw you. He instantly recognised you. You'd been his crush all through high school. You were beautiful. Wearing delicate lace underwear. Your hair was (straightened/curled) and styled carefully to compliment your face. Not that you needed the compliment. You were beautiful with and without make up.
Nate chuckled, looking at his brother,"Close your mouth, man."
Marshall flushed, embarrassed.
You leant against the pole, your back arched with your breasts forward. You slid down the cold metal, splitting your legs in tie process. You danced perfectly. Your body bent in all the right ways. You could get away with anything.
Marshall noticed that you were dancing for someone other then him. He found himself jealous, but continued to watch.
The man stood, popping some notes into your bra. He'd whispered something in your ear, and you'd politely shaken your head. The man took your waist. But you pushed against his chest.
Marshall stood, feeling protective over his childhood crush. He walked over and casually pulled you away from the man,"Baby I found you. Cmon, time to go home." He said.
You recognised him at first glance. You smiled, it had been years since you'd seen the boy you liked in high school. You guided him into one of the private back rooms.
"Thanks Marshall." You smiled, tying your hair back.
Marshall couldn't stop himself from getting hard by looking at you. He blushed badly, but you just smiled and cupped his cheek.
You felt confident, so you kissed him. He kissed you back, taking your waist in his arms. He stumbled back, sitting on the love chair. You straddled him, grinding on his bulge like a pro. You'd never been a prostitute, sex had always meant something to you. And Marshall meant a lot.
