The Love Shack (Camren G!P)

Chapter 1

Lauren's POV

Every Friday and Saturday night like clockwork I end up at the Love Shack. I showed up one night about a year and a half ago for girls night and I’ve been spending my weekends here since. Well, most of them. There are the few occasions I go on dates or something. I’m happy being single; it’s nice not to have to deal with the relationship aspect of good sex.

I come here every weekend for a specific girl, a dancer I can’t get out of my mind. I want her, bad, I’ve wanted her since day one. It took about six months for me to proposition Karla the first time. It was no big surprise when she said no. I’m sure she gets it all the time. I pay well; I’ve probably paid her rent or mortgage more than once. When I approached her for sex I made it completely clear I wasn’t trying to hire her. She’s a dancer, she’s not a prostitute. Of course being turned down doesn’t stop me from asking her to spend the night with me every night I go to the club. She’s gorgeous, sexy as fuck, her ass is real, and we’ve actually started talking during lap dances. I like her. She’s funny and has an adorable little giggle. She’s insanely smart and ultimately the whole package. I would be an idiot not to try to fuck her.

I have a standing appointment with her every Friday in a VIP room. I make a stupid amount of money with no one to spend it on so I waste it on a dancer, I personally don’t see an issue with it. I certainly don’t tell people about my little addiction though. My friends and family would probably stage an intervention.

It’s Friday at eleven-thirty P.M. I’m in the VIP room relaxing against the wall with a coke in my hand when Karla walks in.

“There she is,” I purr when I see her gorgeous face. I pay to have her to the end of her shift, giving me two hours with her.

“Hi,” she smiles as she saunters over on five inch heels. She’s wearing a fishnet top over some sexy black lingerie. Her hair is curly tonight and there are little sparkles at the outer corner of her eyes. Her panties are tiny enough that I can see the ‘Love Only' tattoo on her golden-brown hip.

“You look gorgeous,” I smile back as my eyes roam over her body. “One day you’re going to let me touch you.” We’ve both always followed the rules and Karla does all the touching when she dances. Of course between dances when she’s talking to me she’s taken my hand, but I’ve never touched more than that. “I promise I’m good with my hands,” I flirt.

“I’m sure you are,” she says and comes right over to straddle my lap.

I watch her face and I whisper, “I’m sure you can feel how hard you make me.”

“Mmm… it would be impossible not to.” The corner of her mouth lifts and her hips start to rock slowly in a way that makes her back arch. She smells good too.

“Fuck, that’s beautiful,” I whisper and my eyes move down to her tits. “Just think about how good that would feel if you were impaled on my hard-on…” I’ve been talking to her like this for months; it never seems to get to her though.

“Oh I have, sugar. I’m imaging it right now.” Her hips swivel and she pulls the fishnet top off.

“All you’d have to do is pull it out and push those tiny little panties over,” I smile. I have to grip the side of the bench so I don’t grab her ass. “No one would ever have to know.”

“But I would know,” she says as she rubs her perky, firm tits against my chest. Karla moves her full lips close to my ear and whispers, “And I’m a good girl.”

“I bet you are,” I purr. “Let me touch you,” I whisper.

“That’s a no-no, sugar. You know the rules,” she replies and sits up to grind against me and play with cups of her bra.