Author: Akiko

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“Yes,” I said. “Fuck him. I’m watching every second.”

She took a condom from the bowl we’d left out, rolled it onto Ross herself, and lay back on the sofa, knickers off, knees open, looking at me.

Ross knelt between her legs and pushed in slowly. Fiona’s mouth fell open. “Oh God, Cal. He’s so big.”

I stroked my cock and watched my best friend fuck my wife. Long deep strokes, her heels on his back, her tits bouncing. She never stopped looking at me. “Do you like it?” she gasped. “Watching him fill me?”

“I love it.”

He fucked her harder. She came screaming his name, then mine, nails in his shoulders. Ross groaned and came deep inside the condom, shaking.

Then he pulled out and sank back on the floor, wrecked. Fiona held her arms out to me.

“Your turn. Finish me.”

I was inside her in seconds, bare, the way only I get her. She was soaked, swollen, loose and hot from him, and I’d never felt anything like it. “Feel how he opened me,” she whispered. “For you.”

I fucked her hard while Ross watched, and she came again, clenching around me, and I emptied into her with a roar.

Later, Ross gone home grinning, she lay on my chest in our bed.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ve never loved you more.”

“Next month?” I asked.

She laughed and kissed me. “Already texted him.”

Ending 1 of 16: Sharing Is Caring. You found the full happy ending.

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Scarlett gave me a little wave and drifted off. Jade took her stool like she’d won it.

“Smart man,” she said. “She’s sweet. I’m fun.”

She was twenty-nine, she told me, and she’d been dancing for seven years, and she said both of those things like she was reading the small print of a contract. She ordered herself a drink without asking and put it on my tab. Fair enough. I’d have bought it anyway.

Up close she was all long legs and confidence. Olive skin, a gold chain round her waist, dark eyes lined like a cat’s. When she laughed she put her hand flat on my chest and left it there, feeling my heartbeat pick up.

“You’re nervous,” she said.

“First time.”

“I can tell. It’s adorable.” She slid her hand down my shirt, slowly, button by button, stopping at my belt. “Okay, first timer. Here’s how it works. You can sit right here and I’ll dance for you, and you can buy me drinks and we can be friends. Or,” she tipped her head toward the curtain at the back, “we go somewhere private and I show you what seven years of practice looks like.”

“How much is private?”

“Two hundred for half an hour.” She smiled. “Worth every penny. Ask anyone.”

She shifted on the stool, letting her knee press between my thighs, right up against my hard-on. She definitely felt it. She definitely meant to.

→ I follow her through the curtain to the VIP room

→ I stay at the bar and keep her company

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Jade rolled her eyes and drifted off. Scarlett crossed her legs, her knee resting against mine.

“Good choice,” she said. “Tell me about the week.”

So I did. I don’t know why. The job, the girlfriend, the kettle. She laughed in the right places and touched my arm in the wrong ones, and somewhere around the kettle I realised she was actually listening.

“I’m twenty-seven,” she said when I asked. “Been here four years. Paying off a nursing degree I’m nearly finished with.” She smiled. “That’s the truth, by the way. Most girls lie. I can’t be bothered.”

Up close she was even better. Freckles across her chest, disappearing into the lace. Green eyes. A tiny silver ring through her navel that caught the light every time she breathed.

“So, Owen.” She leaned closer, her breath warm on my ear, her hand resting high on my thigh. “You didn’t come here for therapy. You want a dance?”

“I do.”

“Out here on the floor, it’s twenty a song.” She nodded across the room at a velvet curtain guarded by a bald man in a black suit. “Or there’s the VIP room. Private booth, half an hour, just you and me. It’s two hundred.” She shrugged one bare shoulder. “Totally up to you. I’ll be nice either way.”

Her fingers drew a slow circle on my leg. My cock was already hard in my jeans, and she glanced down at it and smiled like it was a compliment.

→ I pay for the VIP room

→ I keep it cheap with a dance out on the floor

← Back

“I’ll stay right here,” I said. “If that’s alright.”

Jade gave me a long look, half disappointed, half amused. “A talker. Fine. You’re buying.”

So I bought. She drank vodka sodas and told me stories. The regular who brought her a sandwich every Thursday. The stag do who’d tried to pay in Monopoly money. The night a footballer cried on her shoulder for an hour and tipped her a grand. She was funny, sharp and filthy, and she kept her hand on my thigh the whole time.

Every so often she’d get called up to the stage. I watched her climb the pole, hang upside down, slide down into the splits with her eyes on me the entire time. When she came back she was glowing with sweat and smelled amazing.

“You’re still here,” she said, almost surprised.

“I’m still here.”

It got late. The crowd thinned. The DJ started playing slower and slower songs, and the bar staff began stacking chairs. My wallet was lighter and my head was pleasantly fuzzy.

Jade leaned into me, her bare shoulder against my arm.

“You know it’s nearly closing time,” she said. “You could stay till the lights come up. Or you could get out now while you’ve still got cab money.”

Her hand slid a little higher on my thigh.

“Your call, talker.”

→ I stay until the lights come up

→ I call it a night and head out early

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The VIP room was a velvet box with a red bulb and a couch that had seen things. Jade sat me down, then sat herself on the arm of it and picked up a little laminated menu.

“Before we start,” she said, “you should know girls dance better with a bit of champagne in them.”

“How much is champagne?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.” She laughed and slid off the arm into my lap, facing me, knees either side of my hips. “Relax. You’ll love it.”

She started moving. Slow rolls of her hips, her pussy pressed through the white sequins right against my cock. She peeled her top off and dropped it on my shoulder. Her tits were full and dark-nippled, a little tattoo of a swallow under the left one. She cupped them and pushed them together an inch from my mouth.

“No touching,” she whispered. “That’s the official rule.”

“And the unofficial one?”

“The unofficial one is that I decide.” She caught my wrists and held them down on the couch, grinding harder, her breath getting quicker. “Some nights I’m strict. Some nights I’m not.”

Then she let go of my wrists and waited, watching me, eyes half-closed, still rolling her hips slow and deep.

My hands were free on the velvet. Her waist was right there. The menu was still on the arm of the couch, champagne at the top in gold letters.

→ I let her set the pace and order the champagne

→ I test the unofficial rule and put my hands on her waist

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“Floor’s fine,” I said. “Let’s start there.”

“Cheapskate.” But she said it fondly, and she stood up, took my hand and walked me to a low chair at the side of the stage.

Out on the main floor everything was visible. Other men in other chairs, other girls in other laps. Scarlett didn’t seem to care. She put one heel on the chair between my legs, right against my crotch, and pressed down just enough to make me suck in a breath.

“Hands on the armrests,” she said. “That’s the rule. You touch, Dez throws you out.”

Dez turned out to be the wardrobe on the door. He gave me a long look across the room. I put my hands on the armrests.

She danced. God, she danced. Slow, close, her lace-covered tits sliding up my chest, her hair falling across my face. She turned and sank down into my lap and ground back against me, arching her back, letting me feel exactly how soft and warm she was.

One song became three. Sixty quid. I didn’t care.

“You’ve got a nice face when you’re trying not to come,” she murmured over her shoulder.

“Is that a thing you can see?”

“It’s my job to see it.” She stood up, flushed and grinning, and tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. “So. Do I get a tip, or do I get to keep you company till close?”

The way she said it, either option sounded like a promise.

→ I tip big and tuck a folded hundred into her garter

→ I stay at the bar and keep her company until close

← Back

I counted out two hundred quid in twenties and tried not to think about the payslip.

The bald man in the suit pulled the curtain aside. Behind it was a corridor of small booths, each with a deep velvet couch, a dim red bulb and a door that didn’t quite close.

Scarlett sat me down in the middle of the couch and stood between my knees.

“Rules,” she said, the smile gone serious for a second. “You don’t touch me. Hands stay on the couch. I can touch you, you can’t touch me. There’s a camera in the corner and Dez on the door, and Dez has no sense of humour.” Then the smile came back. “Other than that, enjoy yourself.”

The song changed. Something slow, all bass.

She turned around and lowered herself into my lap, grinding back against me in a slow figure eight. Her arse pressed right onto my cock through my jeans, and she rolled her hips like she could feel every inch and was taking notes.

Then she stood, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. It slid down her arms. She turned around.

Her tits were small and high and perfect, freckled, nipples pink and stiff. She leaned over me, hands on the back of the couch, and let them sway an inch from my face.

“Hands,” she reminded me softly.

My fingers were digging into the velvet. Every part of me wanted to reach up. She was right there, warm, smelling of vanilla and sweat.

→ I keep my hands on the couch and respect the rule

→ I test the rule and rest my hands on her hips

← Back

“I’d better go,” I said. “Before I spend my rent.”

Jade shrugged, kissed my cheek and vanished into the crowd. I don’t think she gave me a second thought. I don’t blame her.

I settled up at the bar, winced at the total, and stepped out of the fire door at the side because it was closer to where I’d parked.

The alley was cold and smelled of bins. And Scarlett, the redhead from earlier, was leaning against the wall in a long coat, smoking.

“Hey,” she said. “Jade’s lost puppy.”

“I’m nobody’s puppy.”

“You sat at the bar for two hours buying her drinks. You’re a puppy.” But she smiled, and held out the cigarette. I shook my head. She took a drag, blew it up at the streetlight. “Twenty minutes left on my break. Freezing out here.”

Her coat was open. Underneath she was still in the black lace and nothing else. Goosebumps on her freckled skin. Nipples hard from the cold.

“You chose her over me,” she said. “I’m not offended. Just saying.”

“I’m regretting it slightly.”

“Only slightly?”

She flicked the cigarette into a puddle and looked at me properly, head tilted, green eyes very awake.

“I’ve got twenty minutes,” she said, “and I’m bored and cold. You could stay out here and keep me warm. Or you could go home to your sad empty flat.”

→ I stay out in the alley with her

→ I say goodnight and drive home

← Back

I stayed.

The lights came up at two, white and merciless. The music cut off. The magic drained out of the place like bathwater, and suddenly it was a large room with a sticky floor and a lot of very tired women in fluffy robes.

Dez started moving people toward the door. I stood to go.

Jade caught my wrist.

She’d changed into ripped jeans and a huge cardigan, hair scraped up in a clip, her stage makeup half wiped off. Without the sequins she looked softer. Twenty-nine and knackered.

“Hey, talker,” she said. “My real name is Priya.”

“Owen.”

“I know. You told me four times.” She smiled. “Listen. I don’t do this. Ever. But you sat with me for five hours and never once tried anything, and you listened to all my rubbish, and I’m wide awake.”

“Okay.”

“My flat’s ten minutes away. I’ve got a bottle of wine and a sofa.” She looked at her boots. “And I’ve got a lot of practice at lap dances that I never get to finish properly.”

Dez cleared his throat from the door, loudly.

“No pressure,” Priya said quickly. “You can say no. I’ll still see you Friday.”

My heart was going like a drum. I had maybe forty quid left and a job centre appointment on Tuesday. I also had a gorgeous woman holding my wrist, looking at me like she meant it.

→ I go back to her flat with her

→ I thank her and say I should get home