dalliance.

3.0

"i-i'd like to give you some money, if your ok with that?" i smile, trying not to make him uncomfortable. but at the end of the day, he is a stripper. a beautiful stripper at that. it's like he was hand sculpted, not only in lust, but love and care.

"oh just come here." he says, as my arm is pulled and my body launched into the room. i take a second to recover from whatever the fuck just happened, and take a look around.

its pretty simple, i'd say, yet homely. cups and plates line the dressers, and empty cigarette packets are strewn across the floor. in the corner stands a tall wardrobe, presumably holding all the stripper outfits needed.

"i noticed you, you know?" i spin my head to be met by two brown doe eyes, staring right back at me.
"w-where?"
"up on stage. drooling at me like a bitch in heat. but that doesn't matter, what's your name anyway blondie?"

he takes a seat upon the bed, and it's impressive how's he's still dressed in the black lace, itching at his skin. his hand reaches over to the bed side table, grabs an almost empty cigarette box and swiftly pulls the stick from its restraints.

"uh.. clay, clay. yours?" i muster out, not wanting to screw this all up.
"george. 's george. mm...so clay, what do you want from me? a dance? a blowy? cause' i won't complain" he says, as he fiddles with the lighter after catching the cigarette ablaze.

i almost choke on my spit when the words hit my ears.
"w-what? no no i just...just wanted to speak to you i guess..." i fix my hair that had stuck to my forehead with sweat, and it makes me realise how hot it is in here.

"oh don't be stupid," he giggles, "people only come to find me if they wanna fuck me or something" and my heart broke a little upon hearing his comment. is that all he knows from this place?

"i mean- i'm not against it.." i say, because in reality, i'm not. there isn't a chance on this earth i'm going to pass up on the opportunity of a blowjob from god himself.

"mm.. cool. cause' your hot and i wanna blow you."

oh. wow. ok.

he stands up, walks over to me, and drags me to the bed. i get pushed down as he slowly situates himself in between my thighs. george runs his hands up and down my clothed legs, cigarette still perched between his fingers, i'm not sure wether to stay quiet or to let loose.

"you know, i'm really not supposed to be doing this here," he whispers "god i'd probably get fired if they seen me, but oh well i guess."

i feel my belt swiftly being unbuckled and my jean zipper being pulled down seconds later.

his dainty fingers put the cigarette out in a beaten up ash trash on the bedside table, and it's at this moment i wonder how the fuck i got into this situation.

a few giggles later, my pants are being peeled down my shins, along with my boxers.

the air is cold around my dick, and i suddenly feel extremely exposed to a man who's probably done this hundreds if not thousands of times. his laugh is breathy as he closes his hand around me. i groan out into the open of this shitty club room, walls a miserable purple.

his eyes meet mine as he licks from base to tip and holy shit that feels good. he flicks his tongue just under my head before opening his mouth to swallow me whole. pleasure shot up my spine, making me buck my hips into the warmth around me. george gagged  harshly, and i instantly feel regret wrap itself around my heart.

"shit, are you ok? fuck i didn't mean to." i panic, surely he's used to this by now?

he pulls off with a lewd pop, and it only makes me want to fuck his mouth more than before. george giggles, in what only seems a way to pity me. "are you joking clay? that was like, nothing... compared to what the others do to me."

at that, i feel my heart drop. all these years, god knows what could of been happening to george, and i had no idea he even existed, never mind being able to help him.

"oh fuck are you like...good? we don't have to if you don't want to baby." i whisper, not wanting to brake the delicate aura that i feel has been built around us.

he looks down at my lap, not wanting to make eye contact as he speaks "i'm literally fine, why do you care. your just paying for this, you don't know me at all!"

"hey hey woah woah woah, your fine your fine," i say, as i cradle his face in my hands, making him look at me. "your right, i may not know you at all, only your name. but what i do know is that your perfect. perfect in so many ways. when i seen you get up on that stage, god i thought i'd never even get to speak to you with how pretty you were, yet here we are."

""we're"? what, am i not pretty anymore?" my eyes widen until i see the corners of his mouth ting upwards.

"asshole. you know what i mean." i say, with a wide smile. he giggles as he remembers what we were here for, he sticks his tongue out and slaps my dick against it. i weave my fingers into his styled hair and grip on for dear life as he slowly slides down once again.

"fuck that's so hot." i say under my breath. he looks so sexy on his knees, the black lace hugging his ass in a way that's almost sinful. he continues bobbing up and down, and i get the feeling i'm not going to last much longer if this continues.

he pulls off only to spit right on top of my tip, using his hand to rub it all over my shaft. and that's what pushes me over the edge. white ribbons cover his face and his tongue as he sticks it out, his hand rubbing me through completion. i feel like my soul has just been sucked out of my body, but jesus i'd do anything to feel it again.

as i come down from my high, i open my eyes to george rubbing my cum over his lips with my dick, a devious smile painting his cheeks. if i hadn't just came, i'd be hard straight away with a sight like that.

"call me."

"...what."

"you heard me, i said call me. i'll give you my number, but you'll have to be careful no one finds out or i'm fucking dead, you understand?"

i freeze as it clicks what he's implying, more ecstatic with the fact he doesn't see me as another customer.

"yeah yes, sure. i won't let anyone know."

"good, now let me go get a towel to clean your shit up." he says, with a fond roll of the eyes.

as he retreats to a door i didn't notice upon arrival, i look around the room and inspect his bedside table. it holds single sticky notes some with scruffy writing on and some with poorly drawn pictures dotted around them. must be for when george has gotten bored with other clients.

the tap stops running and i hear small taps of feet against aged carpet. "come here idiot, let me wipe your dick down before you get it on my bed sheets." i notice his face has been cleaned of all remains and some of his makeup has began to run down his face. he looks utterly wreaked.

just how i want him.