Pregnant by My Stepbrother

by Cassandra Dee

  “Alright, Lina, well you know that if you want it, I’ll set it up.” She hesitates before hanging up. “I know we’ve been over this, but you’d make more money if you took everything off, Lina. No one pays that much for bikini dancers. It really doesn’t even compare.”

  I grimace.

  “I know, Roche, I know. I’m just not ready for going all the way yet. Listen, I appreciate the opportunity, okay? I’ll text you tomorrow with an answer, but I have to go. It’s almost time for me to get on stage.”

  She murmurs something, and then we say our goodbyes and I hang up. I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair. It’s normally brown and curly, but I spent the last hour and a half straightening and then re-fashioning my locks into long, gleaming, glamour waves. The tresses fall to my middle back and I love flipping it around, but it’s such a pain to get it to this state, so I only wear it like this for my dancing gigs.

  The door opens and a fellow dancer, Marlene, comes bouncing in. She’s got curly red hair and bright green eyes, and is a curvy girl like me. Marlene works at the Krazy Kat full-time, and we’ve been friends since she saved me from a crotchety old man who cornered me in the parking lot. I still remember the way his breath stank of alcohol as he tried to force me to get into his van for a “quickie,” but the redhead appeared just in time and scared him off with some choice words. I still feel like I owe her for that night.

  “Hey, Lina,” she chirps, sitting at the vanity next to me. She’s skimpily dressed in a pair of booty shorts that cling tightly to her waist and a tiny bikini top that basically hides nothing. Her shoulders glimmer with a fine sheen of glitter. “You’re up after Christa, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I say, running mascara over my false lashes. “Why?”

  She grins before dabbing at her chest with a couple of Kleenexes. “Because I was worried you’d miss out on him.”

  “Miss out on whom?” I ask, only half-listening.

  Marlene lets out a happy giggle.

  “There are some gorgeous guys out there tonight, and if I weren’t with Mike, I’d ask one of them to take me home.”

  I cap the mascara and give her a droll look. Most of the time, our customers are middle-aged, pot-bellied guys who like their beer cold and their women hot.

  “Really?” I ask. She nods happily.

  “Yes, and I’m not joking. Listen, just make sure you really pump your booty tonight because there’s an especially gorgeous guy in the back. He made me drool, he’s so fiiiine!”

  I shake my head and smile. Mike, Marlene’s boyfriend, is an old, toothless ex-con. She’s a beautiful girl who could probably have her pick of the men of the town, but she’s crazy about him. “Hot” could mean anything when it comes to Marlene. It could mean grandpa with a long white beard, or it could mean swashbuckling billionaire who looks like Matthew McConaughey. The possibilities are endless. My friend can tell that I’m not convinced, but before she can say more, I’m called away because Christa’s finishing up and it’s almost my turn.

  “Break a leg,” the sassy redhead giggles. “And remember what I said. In the back left corner! You can’t miss him!”

  I merely smile and check myself one more time in the full-length mirror before heading on stage. I’m wearing a white blouse, a red plaid short skirt, a matching tie, and red stiletto heels. I have a red begonia from my shop pinned to my headband because my stage name is “Petal,” so I always have a blossom as part of my costume. But the truth is that flowers have a special meaning to me because it’s what I hope to pursue in life. I only dance at night; during the day, I work at Amazing Blooms, a flower shop in Prescott. Actually, I own the store, and Amazing Blooms is my baby.

  But starting up a business is hard, and I had a lot of bills that piled up quick. There was the deposit to my landlord (not to mention monthly rent), as well as fixtures, furniture, insurance, and inventory. As a result, I haven’t made enough to stay afloat, so I need to dance on the side to make ends meet. But I was careful when I started looking for a second job. I only auditioned at a few clubs, and I made sure they were a good distance from Prescott. As a result, I have to drive half an hour to get to the Krazy Kat, but it’s unlikely I’ll see anyone I know.

  “Next up is the curvaceous Petal! Put your hands together for a lovely girl who smells like a honeysuckle mixed with carnations!” the MC booms.

  The introduction is silly, but I prance out on stage, my hair bouncing around my shoulders, and the men whistle and clap in appreciation. I give them a wink and turn my sizable ass toward them. My skirt just covers it, but the moment I start dancing, that’ll change. My music begins, and it’s a slow rendition of “Toxic” by Nina Nesbitt. Perfect.

  I move my body to the music, allowing the tune to meld my muscles to its beat. I swing my hips sassily, and then sinuously stride to the gleaming pole in the center of the stage before wrapping my legs around the metal and pulling myself upside down. I’m a curvy girl, but I’m strong too, and sure enough, my skirt flips over, revealing my big bottom. But then, my breath seizes because I’ve caught a glimpse of him. Sure, I’m upside down, but there’s a dark shadow in the corner, and he’s unmistakable: an incredibly handsome man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

  Oh wow, Marlene was right. He’s unbelievably good looking with a strong profile, square jaw, and an athletic build. Long legs in dark pants are tucked below the table, and his shoulders are broad, with powerful biceps crossed over his chest. The moment his eyes meet mine, I flip over once again and catch myself again with my thighs, leaning back in a cross-ankle release. Then, I slide down sinuously, dragging my curves against the gleaming metal.

  That little stunt makes the man blink. Good. As my stilettos hit the ground, I squat and pump my ass up and down to more applause. Twerking works well when you have a juicy bottom, and I work it for all it’s worth. Then, I flip my hair over my shoulder coyly, again meeting the stranger’s eyes. He looks more like the cool, hard-to-read type, but at the moment, his blue eyes are glowing with heat. Electricity runs through my limbs as I slowly trail my palm from my thighs over my waist, up to my neck and through my hair.

  Then, the pace changes. I grip the front of my blouse and rip it free, revealing my red lace bra. I drop to my knees, swinging my hair around, and then crawl toward the edge of the stage like a woman in heat. Then I do something that I’ve never done before: I abandon the rest of my routine and drop from the stage to the audience floor. There’s an audible gasp as I begin dancing mere feet from the customers. After all, these guys know me and my routine generally stays strictly in-bounds.

  But tonight, I’m feeling wild. Swaying my hips, I dance sultrily towards the black-haired man as my assets bounce, letting my plaid skirt drop along the way. Now, my curves are encased in the tiniest bra-and-panty set, and my Double Ds bounce furiously, threatening to burst free at any moment.

  When I finally get to the stranger, my breath catches because he’s even more gorgeous close up. The man has to be at least six foot four, dressed in dark jeans and a dark shirt, and he’s got blue eyes that remind me of molten cobalt. In time to the music, I walk around his chair while dragging my fingertips across his broad shoulders like a tease.

  The man stiffens, although I can see it’s a good type of tension. He definitely wants more, but then the song ends, and I smile sultrily at him.

  “Got something for me, big boy?” I coo.

  He starts, but then opens his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill. Perfect. The man reaches over to the waistband of my bikini bottoms, but I do him one better.

  “No, put it here, big boy.”

  With that, I tilt my hips invitingly, showing off my thong. Then, reaching between my legs, I pull the crotch of my panties aside so that he can slide the bill in that space. A dark flush descends on his cheekbones, but he doesn’t hesitate. Immediately, the money goes where it’s supposed to, and I snap the lace back in place.

  “Thank you,” I smile coyly. “I’ll be seeing you
.”

  Then, I toss my hair over my shoulder and saunter back to the dressing room, collecting the money that the men have dropped for me along the way. As soon as the curtain swishes shut, Marlene squeals and hugs me tight.

  “Lina oh my god!” she screams. “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “You saw, did you?” I ask ruefully, my cheeks flushed.

  “Hell yeah, I saw. Good for you, girlfriend! Way to ratchet up the heat!”

  I laugh, although I’m panting with shock now. I can’t believe I was so wanton either, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

  But Marlene has ideas.

  “Soooo, what are you going to do about it, girlfriend?”

  I shrug.

  “Probably nothing. Why?”

  The redhead makes a face.

  “Are you crazy, Lina? That guy wants you! He’s an open wallet at this point.” I roll my eyes, but my friend scolds me. “Don’t be so high and mighty, girlfriend. We’re here to make money, so don’t forget that. Come on, you have to! Besides, he’s hot and he wants you, so the stars are aligning. You have to thank him.”

  I purse my lips.

  “I already did.”

  “No, really thank him, Lina! Oh my god, you’re so clueless!”

  The thing is, I know what Marlene is getting at. We’re supposed to “work it” between sets, meaning that we’re supposed to go out and chat with customers when we’re not dancing to get them to buy over-priced drinks and maybe even a lap dance. But I hardly ever do because it just makes me feel uncomfortable, and my reluctance annoys management to no end. Unfortunately, Marlene has a point tonight, and she’s not taking no for an answer.

  “Go,” she hisses, practically pushing me back through the curtains. “This is a golden opportunity, Lina. You can do it!”

  Before I realize it, I’ve stumbled up to the handsome customer once more. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, and I can’t believe this is actually happening.

  “Um, hi,” I stammer.

  He looks amused as that blue gaze travels from my face to my breasts, my exposed stomach, and finally to my thighs before slowly heading back up. “Hey yourself,” he drawls, setting his drink on the table.

  I open my mouth to say more, but my mind goes blank. Damn. This guy is really movie-star gorgeous with his straight nose, high forehead, and sensuous mouth. His jaw is firm, and those piercing blue eyes seem to have an energy of their own. Like a bumbling schoolgirl, suddenly I have no idea what to say. I fidget uncomfortably as I try to think of something, anything, and then spot his drink on the table.

  “What are you drinking?” I ask in a rush. He grins.

  “Rum and Coke.”

  I step closer to him, so near that my hips are inches away from his form and take his glass. Then I take a sip, my eyes never leaving his. I don’t like the taste of hard liquor, but the bartender mixed this drink just right, and the Coke has that familiar burn, cut by the dryness of the rum. I lower the glass back to the table and lick the corner of my mouth. His gaze sharpens and focuses on the darting movement.

  “Did you come back here just to drink my booze?” he drawls.

  I giggle. I know my face is bright red, but I hope the club is too dark for him to tell. “Maybe,” I say, “or maybe I just wanted to thank you for your tip. The booze is just a bonus.”

  He nods.

  “So what’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I giggle. “Petal.”

  The handsome man grins with amusement. “Really, Petal, hmmm? Well, I like it actually. It suits you.”

  I giggle again.

  “You think?”

  He nods.

  “In fact, I’d love to know if your skin is as soft as a petal. May I?”

  I still, barely daring to breathe because his hand is poised a mere few inches above my arm. Does he want to stroke my skin? I nod, excited but also on edge. This is so alluring, yet also totally beyond my ken.

  Slowly, that big bronzed hand comes down. He flips my arm over so that my wrist is exposed and gently trails his fingers over my pulse point. My heart rate goes from zero to three million in about two seconds. The blood is pounding in my ears and suddenly, the rest of the club drops away so that it’s only the two of us.

  “Can we talk somewhere, Petal?” the stranger growls. “Somewhere private, I mean.”

  I gaze into that commanding stare, before swallowing heavily. Then I nod and take his hand.

  “I know just the place,” comes my whisper, and suddenly, I’m leading the handsome man to the private rooms in the back. Oh my god, is this really happening? But as my senses prickle and my pussy moistens, I know this is really going down, and that I want it too.

  3

  Lina

  * * *

  I take his hand in mine and slip into the back, behind a plush velvet curtain. There’s a dark hallway with fabric-covered walls, and cameras in the corners. Then, I lead him to a room in the far right corner, and usher him inside before firmly shutting the door.

  The room is your standard lap dance hideaway. It’s small, but plushly decorated. There’s a velvet chaise on one side with a large couch next to it, and a red bulb gives the room a dusky glow. Curtain swags decorate a fake window because of course, there are no actual windows in the tiny space.

  The stranger takes a seat on the couch, and I turn to look at him. Then, I sway towards his large frame before resting my hands gently on his shoulders. He looks up at me, those blue eyes searching.

  “Do you want me to call you Petal?”

  I smile and nod.

  “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

  He chuckles.

  “Well, you can call me Tim. I wish I were named something like Hunter or Stone, but it’s just Tim, unfortunately.”

  I giggle.

  “Tim’s a good name!”

  He grins in return.

  “Tell that to my mom. She picked it for me.”

  I laugh, and suddenly the tension in the air is gone. I never thought I’d be enjoying myself in one of these back rooms, but I suppose life always surprises you.

  But then he goes serious.

  “I want you to know that I’ll never hurt you, Petal. Even though we’re in a strip club, I’ll never degrade you or make you feel less than.”

  I drop my head, biting my lip.

  “Thank you.”

  He nods.

  “Now, did you have something to show me?”

  A warm buzzing feeling settles in my stomach, and I nod shyly.

  “Well actually, I haven’t removed the hundred that you gave me earlier, Daddy. Would you like to do that for me?”

  The harsh streaks on his cheeks intensify at the word “Daddy” but he doesn’t comment on the moniker.

  “So this whole time, your pussy’s been wet and you’ve had that Benjamin pressed against you?” he drawls lazily.

  I blush and nod.

  “Yes, Daddy. I need you to remove it for me otherwise it’ll get really sticky.”

  He lets out a long exhale, his blue eyes dilating. Then he swats my bottom and turns me around so that I’m facing away from him.

  “Bend over, honey. Let me see that sweet ass of yours.”

  Giggling a bit, I spread my legs into a vee and do as asked. My big bottom rises in the air, its heart shape bisected by my red silk thong.

  “Pluck it out of me,” I whisper over my shoulder. “You know what to do, Daddy.”

  Indeed, he does. With big, trembling fingers, he reaches forward, and pulls the thong out of the crack of my ass. The lace stretches away from my pussy, and sure enough, the bill is caught in the material, already totally soaked through. He lets out a low groan.

  “Oh fuck, baby, you’re so dirty. You’ve gotten this one all wet, haven’t you? I’m going to have to give you another hundred to make up for it.”

  I giggle breathlessly, my breasts swaying.

  “Okay, Daddy. But what do I have to do to earn the tip?”r />
  With quick fingers, he hooks the lace of my panties over one big buttock so that it stays in place, and plucks the hundred dollar bill out before setting it on the couch next to him. Then, he pulls out his wallet and removes another Benjamin. But instead of inserting it in my g-string, he rolls it into a small cylinder and winks at me.

  “I want to put this in you, sweetheart. Into your pussy, to be exact.”

  I gasp, my breasts trembling. Is he serious? But the handsome man nods, eyes going dark.

  “Hold yourself open for me, baby. Show me that little hole, and I’ll slide this right in.”

  Oh my god, this is so depraved. Men tip girls in a number of ways, but usually the bills go into a girl’s bra or the waistband of their panties. I was already being bad when I tucked it into the crotch of my bikini, but now this man wants to put it inside me, like a dildo?

  Tim merely nods, blue eyes flaring.

  “Hold yourself open,” he growls again. “Now, sweetheart. I won’t ask twice.”

  With a low moan, I give in. My hands reach between my thighs, and I pull my pussy apart, showing him my fleshy interior pink.

  “Right here, Daddy,” I whisper. “Put it wherever you like.”

  With a guttural growl, Tim takes the cylinder of money between his lips and then leans forward to push the bill into my slit. The paper bends a bit at first because I’m so wet, but then he manages to get the angle right and it slips in.

  “Fuck,” he rasps, eyes glued to the nasty sight. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Fucking filthy and absolutely gorgeous.”

  But now, I really need it. This session is way beyond anything I’ve ever done and I begin panting and juicing heavily.

  “Please give it to me, Daddy,” I beg, undoing my bra so that my big tits drop out. “I need it.”

  In a flash, he’s got his cock out and I gasp with shock. The shaft is massive, with the girth of a Coke can and at least as long as my forearm. Can I really take that in me?

  But Tim nods, standing so that he towers behind my bent-over form.

  “Yes, you can, baby girl. You can do it.”