Lance watched the dancers. Of course they were beautiful. Sexy. Barely dressed. He couldn't lie, it turned him on a bit. But that was nothing, nothing compared to what he had at home.
Unfortunately you had not been happy about him going there. Bachelor parties rarely ended well and Lance wasn't always the most reliable of his friends.
Hell, Lance wasn't very reliable without his friends.
He'd promised he'd behave. That his best friend was getting married, so this was about him, not Lance. That he'd be good. Keep his hands to himself. But you were skeptical.
Of course you loved him. And it was true he'd changed since meeting you. But it was always in the back of your mind. They didn't call him "The Fucker Tucker" for nothing.
So a strip club wasn't a place you really wanted him to go.
You tried to busy yourself. Cleaned the apartment. Did a load of laundry. Lounged on the couch, binge watching "Friends." Anything to keep you from thinking about Lance and strippers.
It didn't work.
And he was late.
That only fueled your anger. Thinking of a hundred ways to get your revenge. Making him sleep on the sofa. Withholding sex. You chuckled to yourself. You knew you couldn't do that.
Lance Fucking Tucker was too damn good in bed. You needed it.
Then an idea came to you. If you couldn't beat them, join them. So to speak. You jumped up, showering quickly, putting on light makeup and his favorite lingerie and a robe.
Gold.
You waited on the sofa, finally hearing the key in the lock and you braced yourself. He stumbled a bit, toeing off his shoes and his eyes flickered to you. And you could see the lust. Goddamn him.
"Baby," he smirked, and you grinned. He was drunk. Even better. Because drunk Lance was dirtier than sober Lance. Maybe the strip club wasn't such a bad idea after all."Sugar," you purred and patted the sofa cushion. He grinned again, making his way over and dropping down.
He tugged at the robe, a wicked smirk across his face and you shook your head. "Not yet," you told him, walking over to the stereo. You pulled the record out of the sleeve and lowered the lever, Led Zeppelin coming through the speakers.
"Hands to yourself, Coach," you told him and he nodded, doing as you asked and put them behind his head. You untied the robe, slowly revealing the black lace and his eyes widened. You moved closer, lowering yourself onto his lap, back to his chest.
"I can't quit you baby/
So I'm gonna put you down for awhile/
I said I can't quit you baby/
I guess I gotta put you down for awhile"
You rolled your hips over him and you felt him harden. You knew he was struggling, that he desperately wanted to touch you, feel you writhe under his hands. You turned, straddling his left thigh. He moaned, knowing what you were planning on doing.
And riding his thigh made Lance lose his fucking mind. Every single time. Watching you get yourself off on him. Soaking his thigh with your wetness. Seeing your face as you came. Lance couldn't handle it.
"Oh fuck," you moaned, loud and long, rocking your hips back and forth, letting him feel you. "Shit, sugar," he breathed, "you know what this does. That I can't restrain myself," he practically whined as Robert Plant's voice filled the room. "Please, Kitty Cat. Oh...oh fuck," he moaned as you rocked harder, pleasure taking over.
"Said you know I love you baby/
My love for you I could never hide/
Oh, you know I love you baby/
My love for you I could never hide"
He couldn't take it anymore, his hands immediately going to your breasts, kneading and massaging before gripping your hips and pulling you down harder as he nipped at the swell of your breasts. "Come on," he moaned,"come on baby. Get my thigh all messy. Get it soaked. Get that cunt quakin'," he growled.
Your head fell back, writhing and rocking over his thigh. So close already to your release as he palmed his hard cock over his pants. "Jesus, baby," he panted, unhooking your bra, his eyes on your breasts again, unzipping his pants and freeing himself. He stroked slowly, matching your movements.
"Fuck sugar," he moaned, "get there. Fuckin' get there. Wanna bend this ass over the couch," he said and squeezed you. "Gonna fuck your pussy, then I'm gonna fuck that ass. Gonna make you scream for me." You opened your eyes, looking at him and to his hard cock in his hand. You licked your lips and he chuckled.
"When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,
You know it hurts me deep down inside
When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,
You know it hurts me deep down inside"
"Only good girls get to suck cock," he smirked. "You gonna be good? Gonna cum for me?," he asked and you nodded. He cupped your chin. "Good. Cum and I'll shove my cock in that pretty mouth. I'll fuck it good," he said and you whined, his words only spurring you on. You moved faster, harder and fell over the edge, screaming his name as you soaked his thigh.
He traced your lips with his fingers and moved you to stand, pulling your panties down your legs. He gave you another wicked grin before he stood up and pushed you to your knees. "Now," he smirked and grabbed your hair. "Open your mouth for Daddy."
"Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby/
You know you're my one desire/
Yes, you are"
