Plot: Jimmy falls in love with a stripper??
Pairings: Jimmy x stripper/alana
The next day, Alana was backstage at a wrestling event in Vegas working one of her side jobs VIP hosting for special events.
The money was good, the hours were flexible, and honestly she liked changing things up.
She was checking names on a guest list when she felt somebody looking at her.
He was standing a few feet away in a black hoodie and chain, frozen in place.
Alana slowly raised an eyebrow.
Alana folded her arms immediately, already fighting a smile.
"You laughing already that means I fucked up."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I was drunk drunk that night."
Alana looked offended on purpose.
"Nah wait, don't do that."
"I remember meeting you."
"I remember thinking you was fine."
"And I remember not wanting you to walk away."
"...After that it's kinda blurry."
Alana looked at him with fake disbelief.
"So you don't remember me?"
Jimmy looked at her for a long second.
"And I definitely remember your name."
Now she was the one caught off guard.
Jimmy smiled wider seeing her expression.
"See? Thought I forgot everything, huh?"
"I still haven't decided if I'm mad at you."
He leaned against the wall beside her.
"So let me make it up to you."
"Go out with me tonight."
He held his hand out dramatically.
Alana stared at him for two seconds before laughing so hard she had to turn away.
And Jimmy just stood there smiling because at that point, he already knew he was getting somewhere.
Later that night, Jimmy picked Alana up, and from the second she got in the car he looked over and just stared.
Alana caught him immediately.
Jimmy shook his head slowly.
He looked back at the road.
He looked over dramatically.
Alana laughed and leaned back in her seat.
Lights flashing everywhere.
People packed onto sidewalks.
Music spilling from every direction.
Jimmy had somehow turned a simple night out into chaos.
He insisted they stop for giant frozen drinks.
Then somehow ended up arguing with her over who had worse dancing.
"You cannot dance," Alana said between laughs.
Jimmy grabbed her hand and pulled her closer dramatically.
"Nah. We're settling this right now."
Music was playing outside from somewhere nearby and Jimmy started dancing right there on the sidewalk.
And Jimmy immediately smiled.
Hours later the crowds started thinning out.
The noise felt farther away.
Jimmy drove them somewhere quieter, somewhere overlooking the city lights.
Vegas stretched out below them like stars scattered across the ground.
For once he wasn't talking.
Alana leaned against the railing beside him.
Jimmy looked over at her.
"I kinda like starting over."
"The first night I was drunk." He laughed softly. "Tonight I actually got to know you."
Alana looked at him for a second.
Jimmy reached over slowly and laced his fingers with hers.
The city lights reflected in her eyes as she looked back at him.
Neither of them said anything.
They didn't really need to.
Alana held his gaze, then rose on her toes and pressed her mouth against his.
His lips parted against hers, and the kiss deepened slow, tasting the leftover sweetness of frozen drinks and the heat of the night.
His hand slid from her hand to her waist, pulling her against him.
She gasped softly into his mouth as her body met his.
The fabric of her dress was thin, and she could feel every ridge of muscle under his shirt.
Jimmy broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "We don't have to"
"Shut up," she whispered, and kissed him again.
This time there was no hesitation.
His hands roamed her back, sliding down to grip her hips, fingers digging into the curve of her ass through the dress.
She arched into him, and he groaned low in his throat.
He broke the kiss again, breathing heavy. "Not here. Car."
Alana nodded, her hand slipping down to grab his, leading him back to the rental.
The parking area was secluded, barely any light, just the distant glow of Vegas below.
He opened the back door and she slid in first, pulling him in after her.
The door clicked shut, muffling the world.
Inside, the air was thick.
Jimmy leaned over her, one hand braced against the seat, the other finding the zipper on the side of her dress.
He pulled it down slowly, deliberately, the sound cutting through the silence.
Alana's breath hitched as the fabric loosened. She shrugged the straps off, letting the dress fall to her waist.
Her boobs were bare underneath, no bra.
She reached up and pulled him down, kissing him hard.
Jimmy's fingers were warm against hers, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of her hand.
She turned her head to look at him.
His jaw was relaxed, but she could see the slight smile at the corner of his lips.
She just squeezed his hand once, and he turned to meet her gaze.
The teasing was gone, replaced by something darker, thicker.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, lingered there, then lifted back to hers.
"Alana," he said, his voice rough and low, barely above a whisper.
She didn't answer with words.
She just leaned in, her lips brushing his, a soft, experimental touch.
He didn't move, letting her control the pace, but she felt his breath hitch.
Encouraged, she pressed more firmly, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips.
He opened for her, and the kiss deepened, slow and searching, tasting of the frozen drinks they'd had hours ago.
Jimmy's free hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek.
He tilted her head, angling for a deeper connection, and she sighed into his mouth.
The sound seemed to break something in him.
His grip on her hand tightened, and he pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers.
She could feel the heat of him through his shirt, the solid wall of his chest against her breasts.
He broke the kiss, breath heavy. "We should—" he started, but she shook her head, cutting him off by pulling him into another, hungrier kiss.
Her hands slid up his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt, and she arched into him, letting him feel her need.
"Not here," she murmured against his lips, though her body screamed otherwise.
He nodded, his forehead resting against hers. "My hotel is closer." His hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers again.
The ride to the hotel was a blur of neon reflections and quiet tension.
She kept her hand on his thigh, her fingers tracing patterns over the denim, feeling the muscles tense under her touch.
He drove one-handed, his other hand alternating between the steering wheel and her knee, squeezing occasionally, like he needed to remind himself she was real.
The hotel was extravagant, a clean living room with a couch that looked barely used and a kitchen that showed signs of a fun night.
But Alana didn't notice any of that. Her attention was on the way Jimmy's hands were already moving, unbuttoning his shirt as he kicked the door shut behind them.
He paused, looking at her. "You sure?"
Alana answered by stepping closer, her hands sliding under his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.
The fabric fell to the floor, and she ran her palms over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin.
"Fuck, Alana," he breathed, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him.
She could feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing against her stomach, and a jolt of heat shot through her core.
She reached down, palming him through the denim.
He groaned, his hips bucking into her hand.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he muttered, his mouth finding her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin just below her ear.
That was all the permission he needed.
His hands dropped to the hem of her dress, bunching it up over her hips.
She wasn't wearing panties.
He froze for a second, his breath catching, then he let out a low, guttural curse.
"You planned this," he said, his voice ragged.
She smirked, her hands working on the button of his jeans. "Maybe."
He pushed her dress up further, over her head, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her closer. "I need to taste you." It wasn't a question.
She spread her legs willingly, one hand bracing on his shoulder as he leaned in.
His tongue was warm and firm, sliding through her folds, gathering the moisture that had already started to coat her.
She gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, as he licked her with deliberate slowness, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue before pulling back.
"Jimmy," she breathed, a plea.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark, his chin glistening. "Yeah, baby?"
He grinned, then buried his face between her thighs, his tongue flicking and circling her clit in a rhythm that had her legs trembling.
She cried out, her knuckles white in his hair, as he sucked and licked, his moans vibrating against her sensitive flesh.
She was close already, too close, but she didn't want to come like this. She wanted him inside her.
She tugged at his hair, pulling him away. "Stand up."
He rose, his lips slick with her, and she shoved his jeans and boxers down his hips.
His dick sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
She wrapped her hand around him, stroking slowly, watching his face as he bit his lip, his eyes half-closed.
She laughed, but she didn't argue.
She turned, bending over the arm of the couch, presenting her ass and her wet, waiting pussy.
The position was obscene, vulnerable, and she heard Jimmy's sharp intake of breath.
He stepped up behind her, one hand gripping her hip, the other guiding his dick to her entrance.
He dragged the head through her folds, coating it in her slickness, and then pushed in, filling her in one slow, steady thrust.
She cried out, her body arching, as he stretched her what he didn't know about her was she's a virgin.
He paused, letting her adjust, his fingers digging into her hip.
"You feel even better than I imagined," he said, his voice strained.
He pulled out almost completely, then thrust back in, harder. "Every night since I met you."
His rhythm started slow, deep, but it didn't stay that way.
The need built, and soon he was pounding into her, his balls slapping against her clit with every drive.
She matched his pace, pushing back against him, her moans turning into broken cries.
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
She was on the edge again, and this time she let herself fall.
Her orgasm crashed through her, her inner walls clenching around his cock, and she screamed his name.
He kept fucking her through it, his own release building.
He pulled out, turning her around, and dropped to his knees again, burying his face in her a second time, licking her clean, tasting her cum on his tongue.
"Jimmy—" she gasped, oversensitive.
He looked up, stroking himself. "I want to cum on your face."
The words hung in the air, raw and honest.
She slid down to the floor, kneeling in front of him, her mouth open, her tongue out.
He took himself in hand, stroking fast, his eyes locked on hers.
With a low groan, he came, hot ropes of cum spattering across her lips and cheeks.
She closed her eyes, letting it coat her, and when he was done, she licked her lips, tasting him.
He collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, both of them breathing hard.
His hand came up, wiping his cum from her cheek, then he kissed her, tasting himself on her mouth.
She smiled, curling into him. "Not bad for a restart."