Business with Pleasure

by Mia Madison

  I suppressed the desire to text her, although I really, really wanted to. I held back because I didn’t want to come off too strong. That would scare her away. She was just as guarded as I was, and I needed to take my time with her so she’d know I took her seriously.

  Yeah, it sounded crazy to me too - taking your time with a woman you just slept with, especially after going all the way less than forty-eight hours after really getting next to them.

  I rationalized Blair was okay because I’d seen her in my club for months. She wasn’t a stranger, we just hadn’t really spoken. Of the many dancers who’ve come and gone, she was one of the few who kept her nose clean, with the dancers and the clients.

  I gripped my cock, which felt nice and spent after last night’s rendezvous. I wished to heaven I had asked her to come back to my place.

  I could have held her, made sure the redness from Delilah’s assault had cooled. We could have talked about her plans for her life, perhaps embraced the comfort of each other, reveling in the silence of just the two of us against the world.

  If she were up to it, we could have gone for a round two, slept, and woke up with a morning romp and breakfast. I hadn’t brought a woman back to my place in a long time, but she would have been worth it.

  Or maybe, I could have just held her and experienced the warmth of a soft, petite, feminine body like hers against mine, hard and solid, caressing the silkiness as I enjoyed the contrast on my fingertips.

  Yeah, holding her would have been enough for me too.

  I stroked my shaft to life, gripping it at the base and sliding it up to the tip. As the veins and thickness began to fill out, I took my index finger and ran it under my frenulum, exciting the most sensitive aspect of my cock besides the head.

  When I closed my eyes, I could see Babydoll’s tongue gliding up and down that spot, swirling it and skimming over the hypersensitive skin.

  I groaned, reliving every moment of time we had together, down to the moment when I came inside her.

  I remembered the taste of her sweet flavor burrowing itself in my tastebuds, the way she gripped the top of my head as she released her candy-coated wetness and called my name.

  I remembered the way she begged to suck my cock in return, how she reverenced it in a worshipful manner, savoring its weight as she swallowed me whole and deep, taking me damn near over the edge.

  … And her grip. That grip was something else. She was so wet and deep. She felt so fucking tight, she was paradise. I couldn’t wait to get back inside her again.

  No woman could hold a candle to this amazing fuck angel in bed. Thank God I was a man wizened with experience though. One taste of her is strong enough to make a lesser man park outside of her apartment and follow her around just to get another hit.

  My cock jerked, convulsed, and I experienced an immense release as cum erupted from the tip. Once again, my hand was coated with creamy white nut. I felt the much-needed release between my legs, and pushed myself out of bed, reluctant to shower her off, but ready to start the day.

  Hopefully, I’d be able to repeat the magic from the night before.

  * * *

  Trixie picked up the vehicle that afternoon. She was dressed down when she came, wearing jeans and a tank top. Her hair was pulled in a high bun, and her high cheekbones were prominent. Without all the makeup and glitter she wore, I found her exceptionally beautiful and statuesque.

  When the car pulled up, her bold and confident demeanor had been overridden with excitement. I’d had the best tires put on her car, as well as a tune-up, a fuel system cleaning, and a full interior and exterior detail. I’d made my guys work around the clock, but they made her car look like it was almost brand new and off the lot.

  “Oh my god.” Trixie’s eyes watered with gratitude and appreciation. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done.”

  She reached out to give me a hug. Although I try not to have physical contact beyond a handshake with most of my employees, I allowed it because she knew who I was, and she knew who I was interested in. She also didn’t give me the woe-is-me, opportunist vibe that would have turned me off.

  “You’re welcome.” I stepped back, looking her square in the eyes. “Stay out of trouble.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  As she marveled over her ride, I wanted to ask her about Blair, but I knew better. These girls were in college. They were taking their lives seriously. Blair was probably in classes at the moment, and planning to catch up with her later. I had to play it cool, despite the question tap-dancing on my tongue.

  I’d see her tonight, for another passionate round in VIP. We’d fuck real good, and cuddle up underneath each other while I got to know about her, learn as much as I could, so she’d want me as badly as I wanted her.

  19

  Blair

  Trixie’s car looked amazing. I almost thought it was a new ride when she pulled up. She beamed with joy when she showed it to me.

  “He did such a great job - he even got a tune-up done!” She squealed. Licking her lips, she said, “Make sure you thank him extra good for me.”

  I glared. The redness had gone down, but my face still stung.

  “I’m not going back,” I said. “I’m done.”

  Trixie nodded. “Okay. I forgot. Sorry. You have his number. You can text him.”

  My face started to heat up as embarrassment spread throughout me. The morning after had faded and reality had set in. I couldn’t see him either.

  “No. That’s not going to happen. I’m done with the club. And I’m done with Cam too.”

  Trixie’s reaction was one of confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck, Blair? He’s obviously gone crazy for you and everyone knows it.”

  I sighed, and turned towards the house. I didn’t want to talk about this at all. Trixie called after me. I heard beep of her car alarm, and felt her hot on my heels. She closed the door a little harder than usual and yelled.

  “Blair!”

  I turned on my heels and faced her. There was disappointment in her eyes. Combined with her defensive stance, arms crossed with her hip to the side, I didn’t feel great with where this conversation was headed.

  “What’s going on?”

  I looked at the floor, and then away. My face burned with shame as I confessed how I felt. I told her that the sex with Cam was amazing, but it was wrong. It couldn’t happen again, especially since he was my boss, and there was enough bullshit at the club.

  “I just figured today that I would cut off all contact with him. We’re working at The Venus Suite tonight, and there’s no reason to hold on to the past if we’re going to move forward.”

  I could count on one hand the number of times Trixie was disappointed with me and not the other way around. This was one of those times.

  A long period of silence passed between us. I could see her chewing the insides of her lip, searching for the right words to say in response to this all.

  “Look. I know you’re not into the whole, shit where you eat, mix business with pleasure type of thing. But Cam is sincerely into you.” She reminded me of all he’d done for us since the attack the other night, as well as the way he’d been sheltering me to himself.

  “That’s nice and all, but I’m about my money and my safety.”

  “Haven’t you looked at your receipts lately?” She said. “He’s getting you to and from work, paying you double the fees you usually get in VIP, protecting you from the drama at the club, and from the looks of it, he dicked you down quite proper.”

  My embarrassment deepened, yet a smile cracked through anyway.

  “All of that is true,” I started. “But I can’t build my life based upon one man’s ability to pay me to fuck him in VIP every night.”

  “That’s all it was?”

  She challenged me to say that it was, because she knew that’s exactly what it wasn’t.

  “We were in the strip club. We barely know each other!”

  She scoffed in dis
belief. “That wasn’t just sex to him, and you know it.”

  I wanted to believe her. In fact, I didn’t need to believe her. I felt the connection we had firsthand. There was more to what we experienced than sex. Or so I felt. And what I felt couldn’t be trusted when it came to being practical in the real world.

  “I can’t afford to be involved with a man who runs a strip club,” I said. “You know how men get when it comes to their women. They’re okay with stripping at first, and then suddenly they’re upset with it and want you to find something else to do. Remember Michael?”

  Michael was one of Trixie’s old boyfriends. He met her at the strip club. He went from a regular customer to her boyfriend. It only took three months of dating for him to become jealous and crazy every time she went to work.

  “Michael and Cam are different. Michael was a patron. Cam’s in the lifestyle. He gets it. He has to get it. He has no choice as your former boss but to get it.”

  I shook my head. That would be another issue. Explaining why I dropped his club for greener pastures. The more I thought about the situation, the more my head started to hurt.

  “Look. The bottom line is that I’m not going back to the club, and I don’t plan on talking to, or seeing Cam again.” I raised my hands and shrugged, indicating that I meant what I said, and couldn’t be moved.

  Trixie sighed.

  “Well I plan on working there a few more days. You don’t have to come. Hell, I can’t make you. I just wish you wouldn’t shut yourself out of a good situation. He never looks at any woman in that place the way he looks at you.”

  I blushed, but then I remembered Delilah’s jab about him sleeping with Lena.

  “Delilah said -”

  “Fuck Delilah! If you saw the way he looks at you when you’re sleeping and all cuddled up underneath him, you would know better. Who cares what they’ve done if they’ve done that? He’s a good man, Blair. Like you, all he needs is the right person to look past his circumstances and give him a chance.”

  Every word she said made me glow inside. She was right. We all had a past. I couldn’t hold Lena against Cam, no matter how badly I despised her.

  I burned every syllable Trixie spoke to my memory for safekeeping and later use. She had no idea how much her words made my day.

  Regardless of her insight, my decision was made. I wasn’t going back to the club, nor was I planning to interact with Cam on any level.

  Trixie could be convinced that he was the one great and true love of my life, but I already knew the love of my life wouldn’t be found waiting for me in the VIP section of his club.

  20

  Cam

  I was shocked to see Trixie alone at work that night. Without being too obvious, I bumped into her on the floor when she was coming off her set and asked where Blair was.

  “She’s not feeling well tonight.” She had an apologetic look in her face. “She said she’d call.”

  “I’ll check with Kelsey,” I said.

  Kelsey hadn’t heard from her that night. Or the next. Or the day after that.

  I text her, hoping to get a response. Nothing. I called her, informing her that I needed to hear from her due to club employment policies. Nothing.

  I thought about driving by her apartment, surprising her at the house to see what’s up. But I realized it was not only crazy, but grounds for overstepping boundaries. I wasn’t a lawyer, but I’m sure showing up at someone’s house uninvited when they’re not answering calls is considered harassment of some sort.

  I attempted to probe Trixie, but each time I got the same reaction: a pitifully apologetic face and a lame excuse about Blair being sick and promising to call.

  It didn’t take long to realize that she knew something I didn’t, but wasn’t going to betray her friend’s trust to let me know.

  As each day passed, I began second guess myself. I began to run through the timeline of our encounter, detangling everything we’d done with a fine tooth comb to figure out what changed so abruptly between us. I came up empty-handed.

  I wasn’t a playboy with slick moves that got all the girls. But also wasn’t clueless when it came to women. Blair’s behavior completely eluded me, and I had no idea what to do.

  At the end of the week, Trixie announced it was her last night. She didn’t speak to me. She spoke to Kelsey. Once I was given the news, it all made sense. A week of unanswered calls, texts, and no-shows for her shifts - and her seeming deliberate desire to avoid me - forced me to realize the truth:

  I’d been played by the baby faced dancer. I was just another mark on her list until she cashed out on her big payday. Now she was on to the next.

  She was 18. I was 36. I should have been smarter than this. Yeah, I looked great. I was handsome. But I was twice her age and involved in an industry that was anything but friendly to long lasting relationships. I had to watch my back constantly. I just never thought I’d have to watch mine when it came to her. Boy, was I stupid.

  “Argh!” I punched a hole in the wall. There was a mini explosion of construction materials and dust, leaving a nice-sized hole in its wake. My fists felt nothing at the moment, but when the adrenaline from my anger wore off, I’d be left with throbbing knuckles, several scabs…

  … And a hole in my heart bigger than the one I’d punched in the wall. It’d cost money, but at least the wall could be fixed. My heart was another story.

  21

  Blair

  One Month Later

  Winding my hips slowly, I mentally hummed along to The Weeknd’s “The Hills.” The brooding beat, mixed with his silky falsetto, made for a dark and erotic song I could melt into.

  Although I had a flair for floor work, I was still very basic with pole dance moves. I hadn’t taken classes yet, and this would hinder my performance, but not too much. I learned to use my gift of feline movement in mesmerizing floor work, coupled with eye contact.

  I was the queen of penetrating, seductive looks. I spent time every day in the mirror, perfecting my gaze to the point it was natural for me.

  I credit my innocent, girl next door look as an enhancement to the effects of my eye-fucking. I’d give that look to anywhere between three and five patrons during my performance, and it would trigger work for the rest of the night.

  My eyes would stare into theirs, filled with need and desire, and a pinch of what appeared to be conflicted feelings, as if I’m realizing I’m more attracted to them than I should be - and torn about it. This made it look super-authentic, and like they really had a chance to take me home.

  Table dance clients were highly appreciated, but smart clients invested in VIP experiences with me. After a dance or two, I’d suggest it so they could have me for a full hour, or the rest of the evening.

  VIP was risqué yet favorable for me. In VIP, I was able to focus my attention completely on the gentleman I was with.

  Every girl seemed to have her own regulars, and a particular type of man she attracted a lot of. I tended to attract men who were in deep need of intimacy. They were the hardworking loners who craved affection they felt eluded them at home, or in the dating world.

  There’d be a period of time where I’d dance for them, and then give them a lot of lap dancing and gyrating. These men were very hands on. They’d require more touching, rubbing, and caressing, but I learned they craved the power of touch. They weren’t interested in sex so much as the experience of sensual intimacy, the act of giving and receiving, and being listened to with empathy.

  Sometimes they’d want to talk first, or they’d wait until they relaxed a little more. I just went with the flow.

  I found myself stimulated with The Venus Suite, more than the last club. Here I experienced a combination of mental engagement and intimate touch that filled the emptiness I felt when nobody was looking.

  Working with men who needed to feel the girlfriend experience I provided, sans sex, allowed me to feel like I had a man of my own, if only for the night.

  I walked away from
many VIP experiences with my mind blown, and my pussy sopping wet, but it was due to the connection and energy we had. I never went all the way, because I couldn’t afford to ever let temptation push me beyond my personal boundaries.

  I was happy. I made so much money - much more money than I had at the previous club - and there wasn’t as much cattiness and drama to deal with. Trixie had found a space that worked here for herself as well.

  After performing my set, which consisted of three songs, including a cut by Lana Del Ray and another by Drake, the stage was flush with cash. Security handed me a bucket to pick up the singles, and I swiftly wiped down the pole to respect the stage for the next dancer.

  “Girl, you’re getting way better!” Trixie applauded me when I made it to the back. “We just have to get you to pole class so you can learn some more moves, and you’ll be blowing people away in no time.”

  I shook my head. Trixie was determined for us to take classes together, but I didn’t want to. My arm strength wasn’t the best. I also never worked out until I started dancing, and that’s because you have to stay fit in this business. Pole seemed beyond my capabilities.

  “When is your next set?” I asked, changing the subject. I emptied my earnings into my duffel bag, and secured my locker.

  “I go up in about half an hour,” she said. She turned to show me her outfit. It was a sheer flesh-toned bikini with pasties artfully covering her nipples and camel toe. “Unless I can convince someone into VIP. I’m working on this guy in the corner. He’s nowhere near the stage, but I can tell from his watch and shoes that he’s got money.”

  “Get him girl!”

  Trixie always knew how to size up the men in the audience. Even if they weren’t interested in her, she was able to make sure the ones who were, were flush with cash, and able to pay handsomely for time with her.