Quiet Storm

Chapter 4: The Wedding

The room was lined with plush, red velvet sofas, and small round tables. We had our own bar, a stage to the front, and another private room to the back. The stage occupied the center and the lights were very low, dim red lights lit the room and the music was on full blast.

My head moved to the beat while I watched the ladies on stage. They really were a beautiful bunch. I called my friend John over in Jersey and asked him to send some new talent my way. I wanted to make it special for Carlisle's big night. Tonight is his second bachelor party. A month ago I flew him and a few of his friends out to Vegas for a long weekend.

He doesn't even remember it.

Elijah Masen who always likes to keep a clear head remembers it. Carlisle had a great fucking time. I'd go into it, but what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I also threw around a few bucks to make sure it stayed that way.

Carlisle is on his best behavior. He won't be sniffing coke off some tramps ass, or engaging in any sex acts tonight. So you can sort of call this the faux bachelor party. It's toned down, only the few ladies I had brought over were on stage, we're in one of the private V.I.P rooms, and both my father and Carlisle's future father in-law were here. Needless to say it was going to be an early night.

I also promised Charlotte that I would have Carlisle home at a decent hour. The night was still for my brother. No business will be conducted, drinks will be poured, and laughs will be had. All of that is a great idea. It's too bad it never happens that way.

My eyes came to land on Gianna. I think she's feeling me. She dances very well and every once in a while we make eye contact. She's swaying those hips for me, jumping on the pole for me, and right now she's dancing her way over to me.

The one thing I love to do while I am here is watch the dancers. As a kid I was told that I was easily visually stimulated, and I still am. When I was a kid it was the television, now that I am an adult there's nothing I love more than watching a beautiful woman take her clothes off. It excites me and drives me crazy. I watch more than just women undressing. I'm no pervert. I watch and see everything, always aware of my surroundings. I can't help it. Being observant has worked out better for me in the long run anyway; I see everything coming before it does.

Angelina was sort of a surprise. I didn't expect for us to get along as well as we did. It was a nice surprise. She had me. Angelina had me from that moment she tore off that tight black top of hers-

I slightly shook my head, shaking that thought away, and leaning back in my chair to welcome Gianna on my lap. She straddled my lap, still swaying to the beat, and bucking her hips into me, making a friction against my crotch. She leaned even lower. "Hey," she said.

I nodded in acknowledgement, turning my head away from her. She was wearing a little too much perfume.

"I saw you looking," she stood up and then swung her leg over my head to turn around. She bent over, showing me her ass-swaying it to the beat of the music. She looked to me from between her legs.

"You can touch," I slightly shook my head no. I don't fuck with strippers, the ones that work for me anyway. I've been there and done that, and it never works out. They expect more, like special treatment or something. These chicks wouldn't know that. The other girls do. I relaxed back, enjoying the view, and yet at this moment I had my eyes closed.

Since last week, every time I set foot in the club, I think about a very cute-yet totally fucking sexy striptease I received from Angelina. She was beautiful, danced just as well as any of these girls, and then busted her ass. She too did it for me and it was an immense turn on. She didn't do it for money, she did it for me, only me, and expected nothing in return.