Tales from the Pole: Skye

Chapter One

It was a slow night at T & A. I just finished popping my pussy and decided to work the room before I went home. I bypassed the regulars who only paid their favorites and wanted freebees from others in efforts to become favorites, and the couples who sought a "safe" alternative to their girl on girl fantasy without getting dirty. Besides, there was a pair of blue eyes in the back of the club that hadn't left my black ass since I entered the stage.

He watched as I cased the room, but never did I give him any attention. He wasn't being serviced, nor even thought of by the other girls. We usually stayed close to the stage where playas made it rain, hoping for a peak of pussy and a dick draining lap dance. So I had time to make him wait. He wasn't going anywhere.

I bounced my ass to the bar feeling his eyes and continued to ignore him. Most of the time after a set, I'd go to the dressing room and chilled until my next one or changed and left. Doing this job as long as I have, dulled the excitement that came with stripping. The voyeur shit got old, but today, my pussy stirred and teasing him intensified the ache.

"The usual, Skye?" the bartender asked, already reaching for the Ciroc.

I rested my forearms on the bar and stuck my ass out for blue eyes to soak it in. "Sure, why not."

I grabbed the shot glass, put it to my lips and leaned my head back, swallowing in a big gulp. Placing the glass on the table, I turned around, propped my elbows on the counter and scanned the room until I reached him. My eyes narrowed in on him and my lips curved into a devilish smile, giving him the attention I'm sure he wanted when I first left the stage.

He wasn't the first one to be mesmerized nor want something more after the stage performance became a memory and getting it if the price was right. I mean, look at me. My thick-in-all-the-right-places body gyrating to the music, working the pole as if my life depended on it. My plump ass clapping to one beat and twerking to another. My juicy lips ready to encompass a dick and suck it dry. Who wouldn't want a taste of this pussy?

I glanced over my shoulder. "Give me another," I said to the bartender.

I laughed to myself, shaking my head. I couldn't believe this shit. Me, playing this game with some random nameless man on the other side of the club, seeing who'd make the first move. By all accounts I knew it was going to be me.

Facing the bar, I picked up the shot glass again and threw it back. "Thanks."

When I turned back around, even though the club was full of dancers, servers and customers, it felt we were the only two existing in the smoke-filled, dim-lighted room. I began my way to him, taking slow and calculated steps, knowing each one brought me closer.

Damn, I thought to myself, getting a better view of him. His white ass was fine as fuck. He looked hood, like a Ryan Gosling type only rough around the edges and ready to get dirty. We only got clean-cut white men from the conference hall late at night looking for some back-room action. Yet, they always came off as too afraid to ask.

"Enjoyed the show?" I asked, reaching his table.

He smiled, exposing dimples. "What I get if I say yes?"

"Depends on what you want," I answered.

His eyes coasted over my body. "How about a name?"

"Skye."

"As in clear blue?" he asked. I nodded. "Can I buy you a drink?"

I moved closer to him. "After."

He looked up at me. "After what?"

I straddled onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. "You've been eye fucking me the whole night. Why don't you let me give you what you came for?"

"Maybe we should go in the back."

I whispered in his ear. "I was thinking back to your place after I bust one real quick."

"How much?" he asked.

My hand glided down his crew neck thermo shirt, feeling granite. "So you wanna make it rain on a sista."

"Maybe just a small shower."

"Oh yeah?" I got off him, bent over and whipped my head, snaking up and falling into a body roll. "Here's your chance."

He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and flung a handful of bills my way. At times it felt very degrading to have men throw money at me like some common hoe. In this instance, it turned me on even more.

I grabbed my tits, giving them a squeeze. My nipple pointed through the triangle fabric, barely keeping them covered. My eyes looked into his, as my hands slowly slid down my body, feeling my curves. I spun around, whined my ass in his face and slapped a cheek, letting it bounce, looking back at him.

When I sat on his lap, his hardening dick jumped in his pants. Thick and long were not two words I normally associated with white men. I had my fair share and never experienced a combo dick. They were either long and thin or short and thick.

I took his arms and wrapped them around me, having him feel my body and I leaned my head back. My body continued to roll, grinding my ass into him. With the right angle my pussy brushed against his hardness.

"Take it easy girl," he warned.

My devilish leer returned, disregarding his warnings. I was in heaven pacifying the itch until a better time and place prevailed where my concentration would be solely on satisfying it. "You like that?"

"Too much," he answered.

This wasn't even my "A" game. That was reserved for ugly, unkempt or old men I was lap dancing. I did whatever skill necessary to get them cumming fast and me onto the next.

I eased up on him, slowing down the motion of my hips. His hands continued to travel my body, sending electric pulses with his touch. He was different than the others, taking his time and not going for my tits or my pussy. And only doing so when my hands guided his and kept them there.

Leaning forward, I pressed my ass deeper into his dick. Getting up from his lap, I grabbed my ankles, giving him a whiff of my wet pussy. I was so ready for him to eat it with a hunger.

Standing up, my body resumed swaying, the music took me over and my hands roamed--tits, ass, a brush of the pussy--probably working me up even more than him. Before I knew it, the music changed, I still moved and my pussy was drenched. I've done a hundred of these dances, putting on a private show, but this was the first time I enjoyed it.

Now facing him and drunk with lust, I dropped on his lap back into a straddle, ready to get from him what I sought. "What's your name, anyway?" I asked, bucking my hips.

"Chris," he said, breathlessly. I closed my eyes and sped up my grind. His hands gripped my sides, urging me along. I bit my bottom lip, feeling waves of ecstasy. A moan passed my lips. "Get it girl."

A chill rippled through me, my body quaked and I sighed. My hips continued their buck, gradually slowing until reaching a stop. I licked my lips and opened my eyes, coming down from the strongest orgasm I ever had.

"How about that drink?"

Chapter Two

I hit the stage for the second time that night when I saw Chris walk into the club. It had been weeks since the lap dance and we hooked up. And this was the first time I've seen or heard from him. I wasn't some naive bitch thinking we connected, made love and headed for a happily-ever-after. But I thought he was different, not the fuck'em and leave'em type. I should've known, that was the only type I attracted.

My eyes followed him to the bar and watched as he ordered a drink. He paid no mind to the girls there being obvious in their search for a trick. Nor the men who talked about the girl on stage at any given moment, shaking her ass. They were always lewd in their description of how they'd fuck her. They wished, but it never came true.

He picked up his drink and headed towards a booth closer to the stage than the one in the back. His smooth stride didn't miss a beat, walking like he belonged. He placed the glass on the table, sat on the cushioned seat and took out his phone, staring at the screen. Never once did he look up to watch me. I didn't even know if he knew I was dancing. He seemed so uninterested by being here.

When he finally looked away from his phone, my set was almost over, dispelling any hope I possessed he came for me. His eyes no longer penetrated to the point of soaking my G-string and his smile was a reminder how stupid I was to think it was more than a fuck. His actions made it clear--he was done with my ass and sought his next conquest.

I counted down the minutes to where I could leave the stage, hide in the back until my next dance and go home. I didn't want a drink or work the floor. Nothing here interested me enough to subject myself to being around him longer than I had. Not even the money I knew I'd make in a packed club.

The dressing room was empty. Most girls were here to make as much money as possible each night, staying on the floor from opening to closing. That was never me. I guess I wasn't a hungry enough stripper flashing nipples, lap dancing and back room pussy popping.

I wrapped my robe around me, slipped my feet into a pair of slippers and picked up a magazine on my way to the couch. I hoped he'd be gone by the next time I had to grace the stage, cuz nothing was worse than a depressed stripper going through the motions.

"Hey Skye?" a fellow dance said, sticking her head through the curtain into the room.

I looked up from the magazine. "Yeah?"

"A guy's waiting for you out here," she said.

I wasn't the I'll-come-running type. "Let me guess. White guy. Blue eyes. Dimples." And a smile I'd slap off him if it didn't cost me my job.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Let him wait." I went back to the magazine, not caring what message she delivered to him. If my refusal ignited his premature exist, then even better.

My mind did wander back to me giving him a lap dance to remember and compare to any other he previously received or will receive in the present. Songs were played and done before I got off. How I allowed him passed my boundaries and encouraged him to do things a typical customer would never get from me. His hands feeling on my body, brushing against my hard nipples and his fingers rubbing my pussy.

Grinding on his dick in the club went beyond my expectations. Dry humping rarely did anything for me. But with him, it was the hottest and intense sexual encounter I ever experienced. Several layers of clothing separated bare skin, but it felt like only one. Hitting my clit with every pass my hips produced, guided by his hands, setting the pace.

Later at his place, riding the fuck out of him gave me what I needed. His hands grabbing my tits as my pussy went all the way down his shaft and back up, only keeping the tip in. Then back down, angling for my g-spot. Over and over, faster and faster, until I came, ready for more.

He gave it to me until the sun rose, an alarm clock blared and the threat of being fired from his job if he were late persisted. And I took it in every imaginable position his heart desired. Pure bliss surged through my body and a smile appeared on my lips I knew would stay on my face for days.

I heard a knock on the wall and I looked towards the drapes that separated the entrance to the main room. "Yeah?"

Chris stood there looking fuckable. "Why won't you come out?" he asked, stepping closer to me.

"Customers aren't allowed in here," I replied.

He cocked his head to the side with a hint of an upward curvature to his lips. "It's like that now?" he asked.

"No call. No text." I roughly threw the magazine on the couch. "I guess it is." I got up from the couch and whipped off my robe.

"I told'cha I had to work." His voice sent chills down my spine.

I walked over to where my stilettos were located. "Whatever."

"Where you going?"

I was more pissed with myself for catching feelings and getting played. "If you won't leave, I will," I answered, jamming my feet back into the shoes.

He came up behind me--real close, to where I only smelled his cologne. "You don't want to do that."

"Oh." I turned around and got caught in his stare. "So now you know me." His blue eyes set my pussy on fire once again.

"You claim to know me." I knew men like him and had done everything to stay away from them.

"I do. That's why I'm walking away."

He sneered. "I don't see you moving."

I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face and leave him on his ass, watching me walk out. "Watch me now."

I turned around, ready to step off. He grabbed my arm, stopping me from leaving. Who the fuck did he think he was? I yanked my arm away from his grasp and swung back around to face him. His hands cupped my face and his lips went to mine, kissing me roughly. My hands rose to his chest, pushing him off me. His eyes blazed with lust. I was sure mine flared with rage.

He rushed towards me and his lips met mine again. This time I kissed him back, countering his forcefulness with my own. His hands grabbed my ass, lifting me up. My arms came around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist, feeling myself being carried and placed on the makeup counter.

I unwove my arms and legs as his mouth moved down my neck. He pulled the triangle coverings of my micro bikini to the sides exposing my tits. He lowered his head engulfing one into his mouth and sucking on the nipple. I grab the other stimulating the tip and flung my head back, moaning.

The harder he sucked the more my pussy creamed. My hand rested on his shoulder enjoying him teasing the nub of one tit and me playing with the other. His tongue rolled my nipple in between lapping at it, getting it nice and wet. I wanted nothing more than for him to go down on me, but the yearn to have him in me was much greater.

His mouth returned to mine. I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down. My hand slid into his boxer briefs taking hold of his hardening dick and pulling it out. It was so thick and continued to grow. He broke off the kiss, sighing when I made contact and let out moans as I stroked his shaft.

"Yeah...yeah," he encouraged. I licked my lips thinking back to how much he liked me deep throating.

I hopped off the counter, turned around and bent over, sticking my ass in the air. He rubbed my pussy through the fabric before pushing that too to the side. In one thrust his dick entered me, bottoming out and I grasped. Giving me no time to recover or get use to his girth, he began pounding away. I held on, arching my back and took what he was giving.

"Fuuuuck!" I said. "Take this pussy."

He gripped my shoulder, making my back arched further into a bow. He went in deeper, pushing passed the unchartered pussy no man has reached. A low growling escaped his mouth and he started slamming into my sweet spot, causing me to buck back faster meeting his thrust.

His hand slapped my ass and I moaned. "You like that?" He hit my ass cheek again.

"Yea," I whimpered.

He held onto my hips, banging me harder. I could feel his dick completely filling me. My eyes saw stars, experiencing the surge rising and through me. I braced myself as my body rocked against him, shook from internal bliss and chills rolled.

"Get it," he said as he continued fucking me.

My orgasm intensified, refusing to subside, readying for another peak. His breathing sped; his thrusts were balls deep. I came again and my pussy clamped down on his dick hard. He grunted after one last thrust and stayed, cumming.

I caught my breath and looked over my shoulder. "Apology accepted."