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A Lapdancer gets turned on by a strange, sexy masked man.

Submitted:Dec 31, 2011    Reads: 2,561    Comments: 5    Likes: 4   

*Many Thanks to a certain someone for the inspiration.

She had always been cautious. Careful never to mix pleasure with business. When Lavender had first met Bobby it had taken her a few weeks, and several dates before she confided in him what she did for a living. She had been attracted to him from the beginning; tall and wiry, with a kind, handsome face, quiet nature, and a sense of fun. He had messy, overly long hair that fell over his eyes, and nearly always dressed for comfort rather than fashion.
"I'm a dancer" she had finally told him of candle lit dinner and a bottle of fine wine. "I work for a pole and lap dancing establishment on the edge of town."
Bobby had been a little taken aback, but had accepted the confession without judgement. She had the legs for the job, long and muscular with a smooth finish that she knew just how to use to seduce him.
Lavender had assured him that the club, called The pink velvet was very respectable, with strict guide lines. Topless only in the main bar, underwear never removed except for private dances and only at the dancers discretion. No touching by the cliental and absolutely no extras. Security was heavy and unruly trouble makers were found and ejected immediately.
Bobby had absorbed this information with a frown that Lavender had read as rejection. But she was soon smiling gaily as his frown turned to a beaming expression of flirtatious lust.
"Does that mean I get free shows?"
"Only at home" she told him. "Where there are no rules."
"Mmm, that's gotta be one of my hottest fantasies." he had grinned back.
Bobby had decided that he liked this girl. Not just because of her exquisitely sexy legs, or her wild, jet black hair. Not because of her deep blue, pool-like eyes or her gorgeous, firm 32D breasts. But because she had been truthful and not hidden who she was. Deep down as he got to know her, he found her warm and kind, and everything else he had ever wanted in a woman.
Lavender was the happiest she had ever been, she had a job she enjoyed and a man she loved: Life was good.
That life was soon to be turned upside down as one Halloween night a surge of masked clientele crowded into the pink velvet to watch the dancers perform. It was a rowdy crowd; loud, drunken, but not disrespectful, and cheers and paper money only urged the girls to be more athletic, more sexy and more seductive than ever. Before 11pm each had made more money in tips in one night, than they usually made in two. Their garters that hugged their thighs, and small G-string' were bulging and spilling out bills as they wove their bodies intricately around the poles, and writhed and moved along the raise platform of the stage floor.
The men and a few women, each dressed in Halloween garb; some in masks, some in capes, others with painted faces, watched the beauties as they performed their acts and slowly removed their own costumes. The atmosphere was electric; each time a girl revealed her breasts, cheers sounded from the crowd and more money was thrown on to the stage: Everybody having a great time.
Once her act was done (a sexy number with a chair that she always enjoyed), Lavender worked the floor. She would sit with the punters who had come to watch, drink with them, talk, offering them private dances, wiggling her firm ass, and letting them catch a glimpse of her breasts that she knew most could not resist. In a place such as this, she was one of many fantasies, and she always knew how to bring them to life.
The club was large, modern with high ceilings and very few windows. Coloured lights glittered up the performers, and strobe lighting illuminated the crowd just enough for them to see their drinks and find their wallets. At the back was a long stage with a curtain at one end, behind this a large dressing room, even busier than the main floor as the girls rushed to change their outfits, and prepare their makeup. In the centre was a huge, round platform with three silver, slippery poles that seem to protrude out of it and up into the heights of the ceiling; the centre stage. The tables were round and of a dark wood, and the upholstery of the chairs and large sofas were a passionate crimson. On right side there was a bar, served by two topless beauties. On the left were several doors. Access to the offices, restrooms and most importantly for the girls, access to the private dance rooms, where they earned the bulk of their wages. Each door was manned by a huge, monstrous looking bouncer in a sharp suit, each one with their eyes on the lookout for trouble, and never distracted by the semi naked females that constantly passed them by. Two more stood on the main doors, and others moved silently through the crowds, always looking out for the welfare of the women.
As three Asian sisters hit the centre stage, it was surrounded by hooting men, drooling as one did the splits in front of them. Lavender watched, smiling. The tong sisters were great performers... She was suddenly distracted: A tall man in a black cowl that covered his eyes, nose and most of his cheeks was sitting on a high stool. He was thin, but broad shouldered, about average height with brown eyes behind the mask. His light brown hair was slicked back, and she could sense an air of confidence that she found sexy in a man. He was watching her.
Sitting alone, he was wore a black, pinstriped suit, a white designer shirt and highly polished shoes that twinkled under the spotlights. He had red horns that stuck out from his head and held a silver topped cane in his hand.
"Got one!" Lavender smiled her most seductive smile and sauntered over to the where the man was sipping from a small glass.
"My aren't you a devil" She crooned as him. "Want some company?"
The voice was hushed. "Lead the way" it rasped as the man rose to his feet and smiled back. Lavender took him by the hand; they felt rough, she liked that, and led him towards the doors.
The bouncer barely acknowledged them as they passed through the door, and then through another into a small room. Inside was a single, large, soft cushioned chair.
She whirled him around and push his chest, so that the man fell backwards into the armchair, his cane falling to the floor. He didn't resist at all and she could feel his eyes upon her. Lavender never grew tired of that feeling. It made her feel wanted, and made her blood rise.
"You know the rules" she said, her lips up close the mans ear. "Or would you like me to explain them?"
"I don't do rules" rasped the man with a kind, cheeky smile. Lavender grinned as the music began.
The man sat with his hands on the arms of the chair, his feet planted firmly on the floor, back straight, head up, not wanting to miss a second of the performance as Lavender began to sway to the music.
Once she was certain he was ready, she climbed on top, mounting him. Coming to a sudden stop, she let him star at the lacy, red bra that was now in the mans eye line. She saw his eyelids flutter and his eyes widen as she ripped it open from the front. Her breasts fell out and onto the man face, either side of his nose. He bit his lip as she move them up and down, grinding her matching red G-string into his groin.
The music changed and she rose up, her tight, toned backside protruding high into the air as she let her finger trail the contours of the mask. Turning around it was then that the smooth buttocks grazed his chin and worked their way down his chest to his groin again.
"He's hard" she told herself. She could feel the hot roll of meat beneath her as she wiggled and writhed against him. Leaning back on to his chest, her entire body worked against him as he looked down to see her teasing and cupping her breasts. She moved again and let he cock rest between her buttocks. The music was at is highest now and she moved faster, reaching up behind her to touch his face as she felt him grinding back into her, obviously enjoying the friction as much as the dance.
She took his hands from the arm in her own, running them down her body, letting him feel a little more of her breasts than he was allowed, the friction against his manhood getting more and more vigorous as the music' final score hit.
The man was breathing heavy, the music blasted one last time and then she felt it. The pulsing under her, the gasp of breath on her neck, the warm, wet stickiness that clung to her ass and G-string as the man ejaculated in his designer trousers.
The music ended and she stood up. Looking down at the man, she could see the damp patch and white stain seeping through. The man twitched a little, still in pleasure, he was biting his lower lip and his eyes were closed.
The man jumped back to life, realising the dance was over and stood up too, just as she was wiping the stray cum from her skin. He watched her silently, smiling apologetically, non to worried about the large dark, wet patch on his front.
"That was amazing" he broken voice was even sexier than before. "Thank you." He paid her generously and Lavender rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. It wasn't until he had left that she felt another damp patch. Her red G-string was clinging to her pussy where her juices had been flowing freely.
Bobby had always said that he would never visit Lavender at work, so as to keep any potential jealously to a minimum. Lavender had been grateful for this decision. He was the one person she trusted most in the world and the one who truly turned her on sexually. But over the next few weeks she found herself turned on a lot more often. She found herself masturbating daily; in the shower or in bed after sex as she thought of the stranger, the feeling of his hard dick against her, his hands on the her body, and the wet feeling he had left her with. She imagined fucking him on that chair and frequently thought of him as she made love to Bobby. Sex with him was never a dull moment, but somehow that mask man forced its way into her mind at the height of her passion, bringing her the most powerful orgasms she'd had since she first met her man.
I was great delight that every Friday night, the man returned. He had left the horns and cane at home, but he still wore the mask, the designer clothes, the handsome smile and had the same raspy voice. Every Friday night she danced for him, felt his cock swell, and every Friday night she made him cum. Each time it had the same effect on her, and she took to the showers in the back after each visit, to vent her sexual frustration with large dildo that she sometimes used in her act.
The fifth visit, she had seen him watching her as she had danced on the poles. Winding her legs around the cold steel and driving the crowd into a frenzy. The sight of him had only spurred her on to do a more rigorous and athletic routine.
Half an hour later they were back in the private room.
She started this time by turning around so he could see her arse, bending over slightly to the side as she swayed her hips, her breasts free, her nipples enveloped in large, shiny stars that refracted the light. She let them hang low and they caressed her thigh briefly as she ran her hands over her bare feet and up her long, silky legs.
He seemed different this time. More attentive, more lustful as he watched her move. She noticed him adjusting himself in his trousers, making sure everything was where it should be. This time, was the first time she had thought about giving him a little more. She straightened up, feeling his gaze on her bare back, her arms in the air as her fingers flowed through her black hair, reaching for the ceiling as she danced. Then down they came in a swift movement, her fingers catching the waistband of her G-string on the way down. It was at her ankles before she realised what she had done. She was one of the few girls who never bared her womanhood in a private dance.
There was no going back now and she bent over further, her legs slightly apart so the man could see the bulging lips of her pussy, pressed tightly together by her thighs. She heard him breathe out loud, hard, but slow.
She was dancing in a fever, climbing on to him, clamping his body with her legs as she ground against him. He was already hard. His penis felt bigger than ever, and that only spurred her on as she let her hardening nipples free from the tape that covered them. She stuck them on his mask, one on each cheek as she let her nipple scratch his mouth, lingering a little too long on his lips. She felt them react, pecking them gently...
"Oh my god" she suddenly thought with a smile. "He's cum already."
She was sticking to him, her thighs damp, and his trousers soaked. His hard erection within his trousers rubbing against her bare pussy.
"He's still hard."
She looked down and realised the truth, it wasn't his juice, but her own. Her smooth, freshly waxed pussy was slick and pasty with a sticky white substance, that seemed to be flowing. The man had already noticed, but didn't seem to care, he just kept rubbing himself against her.
"Want me to do something about that?" He rasped.
"Want a towel?" was all she could say, slightly embarrassed. She watched as he shook his head and planted his lips on hers.
She didn't resist, she couldn't, she was way past stopping now as she felt his hands on her body and his tongue deep in her mouth. Her embarrassment faded, but the heat rose and suddenly she let go.
"You're so wet" he whispered.
"You like that?"
"mmmm, yes, I wanna taste you."
As if on command she rose up on her knees, pulling herself closer to him. She threw her head back in ecstasy as his mouth made contact with her vulva. Her pussy lips were swollen and puffy, her clitoris filled with blood and she ground her groin into his face she ran her hands through his gelled hair. His tongue was electrifying; lapping at her wetness, sucking on her clit, pulling it with his lips and then delving deep into her as she felt the rough plastic of the mask against her abdomen.
More fluid formed on her as the mouth lapped it up. It took only as few minutes of the tongue inside her and a few choice licks on her clit and she came violently. More juice followed as her body shook in excitement. This time spraying out and drenching her client in a wet, sticky veil.
The man just moaned greedily and kept sucking, enjoying the taste of her and everything that was coming out. His hands holding her buttocks tight, pulling her into his face as she continued to rub against his willing mouth.
As she recovered herself, Lavender hastily sat back down on top of him, scrambling to open his belt, snap open the button and yank down his zipper.
It was as she suspected. He wore nothing under those expensive suits, and his cock was large and uncut. It sprang out from its material prison as she parted the folds. It was wet too, not just from her, but from the pre cum that it was spitting out. It was running down his shaft and some had shot out, and was visible in his thick mound of hair above his cock. His balls were shaved as smooth at her pussy, hanging low and inviting.
Her hand gripped his shaft at the base. Her delicate fingers tightening around him as his own hands explored her breasts. He was still licking the taste of her off of his lips, and he seemed relieved to finally touch her tits and let her hard nipples fall between his fingers.
She stroked him hard and vigorously from the offset. drawing his foreskin up and down as her hand wrinkled it up at the top and pulled it down low at the bottom. The tip she discovered was perfectly rounded, and slick with fluid. With the other hand she cupped his testicles, squeezing them as she pleasured his shaft. His ball sack was smooth and slipped through her hand as she caressed him. More and more pearly white pre cum dripped out on to her hand, and this only turned her on more.
Lavender rose up once more, just long enough to hold the throbbing head of his penis at the entrance to her pussy. Roughly she parted her folds and let him enter. As she sat back down, the shaft riding up into her, he let out a small cry. She did the same as her buttocks came to rest.
He felt good inside her, his cock resting against the walls of her pussy, rubbing against them as she moved back and forth in hard, short bumps.
Moving her hips, she moved herself over him. Wriggling her body in a rocking motion that made his eyes roll. The man lay back in the chair, hands resting on the thighs that were clamping his body. He seemed tense, but relaxed enough to let her take control.
Increasing her speed, she began to vent her sexual frustration out on his hard cock. Rising higher each time, slamming harder down over his shaft, letting her pussy suck it back in. She was working herself up into a frenzy, smacking down on to him, the chair moving with her as she ran her palms inside his jacket. Massaging his chest and moaning louder with each penetration.
He was gasping for breath now, unable to speak. She could feel his breathing, rapid beneath her hand as he started to buck his hips up every time she landed on him. His dick pulsed with every thrust, and he suddenly began to fuck hard up into her as fast as he good, giving her back what she had been doing to him.
Her arms were over his shoulders, her breasts pressed against his sweaty shirt, her face buried in his neck as she rode him to another climax. Just as powerful as before her pussy erupted, clinching the large shaft between her legs in a vice like grip that caused it to fire off inside her.
She felt the first spurt of cum shoot up inside her with such force that it startled her, adding more to her climax. More pumped out, his dick quivering with each load, filling her warm hole with a thick, creamy mess that made her wetter than ever. As she continued to fuck him, grinding him ever deeper, his fluid ran out of her too, mingling with her own.
When he had no more to give, his cock relaxed inside her, still semi hard from the attention she had given it. Lavender lay her head on his chest. His heart was racing, as was her own, and she felt his arms around her holding her close until his penis finally fell out of her; sticky, flaccid and slightly numb.
She awoke from her lethargy. Realising what she had just done. Scrambling off of him, the remnants of their love making still visible on her lower body, Lavender was in an immediate state of guilt.
Not only had she betrayed the man she loved for a fantasy, but she had violated both her work places code of ethics as well as her own.
Hastily she got dressed, noticing the concerned expression of the stranger. He was still seated, settling himself back into his soaked trousers; watching her.
"It's OK!" He said in more normal voice than he usually used. Lavender didn't notice, only hearing the words.
"It's not OK, we shouldn't have done this."
"You enjoyed it!"
Lavender passed by the comment and fastened her bra.
"I know I did."
"You had better go, please don't come back. I could loose everything."
"Some of the other girls do this too, no matter what they say" he told her. "You won't loose your job."
"It's not my job I'm worried about..." She trailed off, her beloved in her mind, the thought of his disappointment if he found out about her betrayal.
"Well, you're not going to loose me either."
This time Lavender heard the voice. Kind. Sexy. Loving. Familiar. She looked up from rearranging her G-string and saw the man smile a familiar smile. Not the stranger smile, but one she knew only too well.
"Lavender, it's ok. It's me" said Bobby gently, pulling off the mask and dropping it to the floor beside the chair.
A look of surprised relief came over Lavenders face as she saw her man before her. Tired, sweaty, his face glowing, but the same man with the same cheeky smile he always had after he had made love to her.
"Looks like I am your hottest sexual fantasy too" he told her as he took her in his arms and held her close.


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