His Stripper (MxM/MPREG) [New Version]

Prologue

I stood in front of the mirror as I pulled up my black, thigh-high, lace stockings and fixed the straps on my red high heels. My black, leather booty shorts fit snugged around my luscious ass. My eyes traveled up to my chest as I circled an ice cube around both my pink nipples to make them nice and perky.

I sprayed some glitter water I made onto my chest to make it shine bright against the club lights. I moved my black, polished nails to my shiny, silver hair and messed it up a bit to give it a sexy, bed-head look. I examined my facial features. The baby face no one can resist and my red kissable lips. I licked my bottom lip, the silver piercing in the middle of my tongue peeked out and glistened in the light. My pale complexion stood out against the dark outfit and black earrings and my black belly ring. Lastly, I stared at the black eyes that looked innocent to anyone that saw me, yet turned red whenever I fed.

"Sexy as always", I mumbled as I smirked and waited for them to call my name on the stage.

My name is Kyle Moss by the way. I guess this is where I tell you about me right? Welp, I am a 22 year old stripper. I'm an incubus and for lovelies who doesn't know what that is....

Look it up.

Nah, I'm just kidding. To put it in basic terms, sex is my food. I feed on peoples energy by having, obviously, sex. I never really understood how it really works but I do know I feel satisfied or full whenever we are done. Just basic instincts, I guess.

I snap out of my thoughts as my name was called. I check myself out one last time before I walk on stage, as a song I know very well, blares on the speakers and the crowd roars.

When the song started, I grab onto the pole and slowly went into a split.

The money started flying.

While the song continues, I moved my body, smoothly transitioning from one move to another. My flexible body glides on the floor and around the pole with each passing song. The money kept flying everywhere.  I turned towards the money and fell in love. I loved it just as much as feeding.

And thats all it was to me. Feeding.

I didn't understand what people meant by loving someone.

I didn't understand what most creatures obsess over.

A soul mate.

It had crossed my mind when I was younger and during my teenage years but somehow I've convinced myself that I don't have one.

Its been almost 22 years and there has been no one but me, myself and I. I have never experienced that type of feeling as long as I can remember.

After collecting all my money, which was a shit ton of twenties and singles, I put it all in my small safe. I usually pick it up in the morning after I find my prey to feed on.

Its not that hard to find someone around here. They are all different but desperate men. Perverted men. Men who cheat on their wives. And just plain people who cant find anyone so they find a person at a strip club.

I hear it all the time. Its like I'm their personal therapist when I'm around drunk men. Then they take me to a sleazy hotel or their house and it could go different ways from there. They would either end up crying pathetically, pass out or I actually do get to feed.

I get money either way because they wouldn't never remember how they got home the night before. Like I give a shit, as long as I eat or have money, I'm content.

Anyways, I walk around the club, scanning for my next feeding when a twink with baby blue eyes and blonde hair tells me that a person wants to have a private session.

I nod and fix myself up a little and when I walked in the private booth, I saw a guy with the biggest beer belly, holding a bottle in his hand. I could smell his stench from here and already could tell that he probably rarely takes a shower. But what I did noticed was the way he was dressed, which meant he was loaded with the goods.

An evil smirk slipped on my face as I walked towards him.