Girlfriend Lap Dance の小説・ストーリー

“The customer caught your dance and he'd like it if you were to join him.” I drop my lipstick, wheeling my chair around. “Rocky, you said I didn't have to do that on Friday nights. We had a deal,” I whine Rocky waves me off, “You're not sleeping with him, just a lap dance, some slight touching.” I roll my eyes, by slight touching he means groping my pussy while I pretend it's the hottest thing I've ever done. “No thanks, I have a movie to catch.”

“Of course you’d say that.” “THAT’S ILLEGAL. “Upgrade round!” Layla yelled, clapping. “Challenge.” The bottle-holder didn’t hesitate. “Lap dance. Dealer’s choice.” The crowd roared. A girl stood immediately—confident, glossy, already smiling like she’d been waiting for this. She didn’t scan the room. She walked straight to Jaxon. My chest burned. She moved with intention—slow, knowing, hips rolling with the bass. The room fed off it, chants rising, phones coming out.

“Shhh. Stay calm, Caspian. Let me rock your world.” And she does. I can't think. I can't breathe. All I see is Desiree’s perfect naked form, her firm and curvaceous body going forwards and backwards, in tune with the music. She increases pressure when going forward, making sure to glide the entire length of my limp dick (which is no longer limp, by the way), before releasing the pressure a little, going back to the top and pressing down down down to glide all over again. In my entire life, I’d imagined that getting a lap dance was ridiculous. It's why I never got one. Not like I visited strip clubs, anyway. Why should I let a semi naked lady—a stranger—sit on my lap, dance and get me hard?

I was now left in my matching bra and panties. I straddled him once more and rolled my hips on his thighs. I could feel his dick poking me through his jeans. Feeling more confident in my newly discovered lap dancing skills, I rose a little bit higher and brought my boobs up to his face. He drew closer to my boobs and buried his face in it. I bounced on his crotch a little more and after a while, I got tired of bouncing on his covered dick, so I got off his thighs and kneeled down in between his legs. I unzipped the jeans and dragged it down his legs. He was left in his briefs and t-shirt so I took those off too. I got back on his thighs and humped on his dick. I grabbed his dick with my hand

I asked, leaning forward so the lace of my bra brushed against my arms. “No… no, I haven’t,” he admitted, eyes flicking down before darting back to meet mine. “That’s not a problem,” I said smoothly. “We’ve got different combos.” “Slow dance is five bucks. Just a lap dance, seventeen. Lap dance plus touching, thirty. If you want the happy ending—full everything—it’s ninety-nine bucks a round,” I rattled off flatly, like I was reading the menu at a drive-through. “Woah… those prices are ridiculous. That’s an awful lot.”

Desired. My hands moved up, cupping my breasts, squeezing gently as I danced. I arched my back, letting my head fall, hair spilling down my spine. A low groan escaped him. His leg shifted, adjusting himself, and the sight of how hard he already was made heat flood between my thighs. I moved closer—slow, teasing steps—until I was right in front of him. Then I straddled his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and started giving him the lap dance he’d been waiting for.

Jax laughed. He backed her over to the wall, then pressed his body against hers. He had a huge erection. Her core was on fire and she's fighting herself more than him. The lust was evident, but there was something else. She had never wanted another man as bad as she wanted him. His lusty eyes were bad enough, but his body pressed into hers was a whole new torture. Raine refused to think further. "Waitresses don't have to do lap dances. Astrid is also a stripper and waitresses when not on stage. The strippers are the only ones who do lap dances. You don't have to worry, you won't be doing any." Jax said matter of fact.

She turned her back to me and looked over her shoulder, something teasing in her eyes, then bent slowly, giving me a view of her ass in those tight pants. My mouth went dry. She spun back around, running her hands down her body, lifting the hem of her shirt just enough to show a sliver of stomach before letting it fall again. Every movement was controlled, deliberate, designed to make you want more. Then she walked toward me. Slowly. Hips swaying with every step. "Sometimes," she said, her voice low, "they pay for something more private. A lap dance." She straddled my thighs, not quite sitting, hovering just above me. Her body rolled, hips grinding the air inches from my lap, close enough th

The one blonde stripper gets on her knees and begins crawling towards us, another joins her. David opens his legs so that the girl can sit properly on his lap. I don't find any interest in the brunette that makes her way over to me. She dances around me and sits on my shaft. She starts grinding her hips and I can't help but enjoy it. When the lap dances are done I look over to David to see that his eyes are on the crowd.

“Look at you. Come here, baby.” I straddled his lap without missin’ a beat, knees sinkin’ into the leather on either side of his thighs. My tiny skirt rode all the way up, thong pressin’ right against the bulge in his pants. I started grindin’ slow at first, rollin’ my hips in deep circles, ass cheeks clappin’ soft against his lap while I arched my back and let my tits bounce right in his face. His hands came up quick, grippin’ my waist, but I ain’t stop him—club rules said they could touch on the floor long as they paid. “That’s right,” I whispered in his ear, voice low and filthy, breath hot on his neck. “You like how this ass feel on you? Bet you never had a good bad bitch dancing on you