Everyone bar me laughed, because I was still trying to wrap my head around the entire scenario, whereas the rest of the girls were just filled with this new confidence that they would never have anywhere outside an all-male strip-club. It was a first time experience for all of us, and it seemed I was the only one struggling to get into the swing of it.
Again, it might just be to do with the fact there was a cock just inches from my face.
Niall just grinned again, finally placing down the final drink.
“Have a good night, ladies.” He wished.
With that he went, the table erupting into another fit of giggles when he turned and revealed his bare arse to us, sauntering away with an undeniable confidence.
“Cheer up, Ash.” Katie nudged me.
“I’m cheery! I’m just… baffled! This is all new territory for me.” I gasped.
“Well if you can’t cope with this, how are you going to cope when there’s a bunch of gorgeous guys onstage with their cocks out?”
“Probably not very well.”
She just laughed at me, and went back to conversing with the girl sat at the other side of her.
Katie was a girl I’d kind of grown up with. My parents knew her parents, and we’d been friends since we were kids, but not really close friends. I’d met most of the girls a few times, but none of them other than Katie, and Lara, the bride, were really friends.
They were all extremely loud and rowdy, and I felt like a damn mouse amongst them.
I’m not sure how long we waited for the act to start, but it felt like a lifetime. You could almost feel the tension building in the room with each passing minute, mainly women, but a few men all eager for the show, waiting for the lights to dim and for the curtains to open. I wasn’t necessarily excited, but I knew that if anything, I’d get a good laugh out of the evening.
By the time the lights finally went down, the screams that ran around the room were almost deafening. I cringed with the noise, taking another swig of my bright pink cocktail through my penis shaped straw, still trying to ease into the evening.
I cursed the fact we were sat so close to the front.
I rolled my eyes when ‘Pony’ started playing, the squeals around the room still consistent but not quite as loud as they had been, and a few seconds later, the curtains whipped open, two beefy men wandering onto the stage.
I rolled my eyes, but smiled. I couldn’t help it. They were both huge, tight muscles stretching their skin, and they both looked almost bloody identical. You couldn’t pick the two of them from a damn line up. They were exactly what I pictured strippers to look like.
“I’m already having, the best time.” Katie gawped.
They both started out with a pretty simple routine, just walking around the stage with their white tank-tops on, eyeing up everyone in the room like they wanted to fuck them.
I snuggled a little further into my seat, staring at their feet briefly and noticing they were barefoot as they began to finally dance along, and again, the screams got louder.
I glanced around the table, a few of the girls fanning themselves already even though they’d barely moved. I was slowly allowing myself to get into the swing of things, ignoring how bizarre the concept was and just letting myself ogle the men onstage. It was pointless not doing.
Their bumping and grinding continued for a while, all their clothes still intact, and I think at one point I even cheered them on.
It was after the first chorus that a third man walked onstage.
My eyes widened.
“Holy. Shit.” I breathed.
The screaming around the room hit a new height.
He wasn’t like the other men. He wasn’t quite as ripped, nor was he as tanned, but he was fascinating. He had this long, flowing, curly hair, his body covered in random tattoos, splattered over his perfectly toned body like he’d just allowed twenty random tattoo artists to do whatever the fuck they wanted. The smirk on his face was enough to make my stomach churn, because he was fully aware of the fact that even though he wasn’t as muscular as the other two, and maybe not as stereotypically attractive, his beauty completely outplayed theirs. He was absolutely fascinating.
And he fucking knew it.
The other two boys ripped their tops off to join him, the three of them now only wearing loose, black combat pants that rode low on their hips, and then they began to all dance in time with one another.
I kept my eyes on the new addition, watching as he bit his bottom lip and ground his hips, staring out to the audience as he bent his knees and snapped his hips, and I was utterly captivated.
The way his body rolled should have been illegal, the intensity behind it, the way his figure curved. His tattoos would slowly distort and bend before snapping back into place, and I swear my mouth dropped open. At first, I thought the night was going to be humorous, but then the boy with the butterfly tattoo and the flawless body had stepped onstage, and suddenly I felt uncomfortable in my seat.
I watched him trail his large hands slowly down the front of his body, pushing his abs up against his touch before he lagged down to his crotch, grabbing at the area, and I sucked in a large swell of air so quickly that my chest almost hurt.
He then yanked his hand forwards, his pants following the movement and leaving him with next to nothing on. I knew the other lads had done the same thing, but they were receiving none of my attention.
“He’s unreal.” I spoke a little louder than I meant to.
“He doesn’t look like a stripper.” Katie leaned a little closer to me.
“He looks better!”
Dramatically, the three of them dropped to their knees, the speed of their hips quickening, and you could clearly see their dicks bouncing within the tiny, glittered cloth that covered them. All the girls at the table were screaming wildly, but I was silent, fixed rigidly to my spot, my eyes completely fixed on his groin and I wasn’t sure I could ever tear them away.
“SHOW US YOUR DICK!” Lara yelled.
It was only hearing those words that allowed me to lift my eyes, but when I did I regretted it immediately.
He was looking at me.
With that dimpled smirk and those low eyes, he was looking right at me, smug after seeing me staring at his cock for so long. He tweaked his brows and bit his bottom lip again as he pushed so he was back on his feet, cracking his neck to the side so that his long hair all fell over one shoulder.
His lips were so pink, only amplified when he slowly ran his tongue over them, wetting them so much that they began to almost sparkle beneath the pink stage lights.
He was still fucking looking at me.
So when he jumped off the stage, I think I knew that I would be his target.
I stiffened even more, if that was possible, and watched him approach me, all the girls around me completely losing their shit, but I could barely even acknowledge their presence. I just watched him, and with each step he became that bit more human. He walked out of the blinding lights and into the darkness where I sat, each feature becoming clearer as he moved, so I could distinguish even the smallest blemish on his skin.
He looked so damn happy with himself.
“Oh shit. I’m gunna die.” I mumbled to myself.
He pinched his fingers at the back of my chair, just over my shoulder, and the pulled his body forward, straddling my hips, and leaning his lips to my ear.
“Are you okay with this?” He spoke lowly.
His voice.
Fuck, his voice.
I felt like I was going to die anyway. I had one of the most beautiful boys I had ever seen in my life with his scantily-clad dick pushed against my groin, his long curls tickling my neck and the top half of my chest, his own chest shining and just inches away from me, and I swear I could almost hear the birds tattooed on his skin singing to me.
And then he fucking spoke, and I almost collapsed.
His voice was so deep, and husky, and kind and hot and breath-taking, and how he’d managed to hold all those things within his voice and just a few words, was completely dreamlike.
He slowly pulled his head back, his forehead almost pressed against mine as he waited for my approval, but all I could do was nod.
The very second I did, he thrust his hips even closer to me, grinding against my unyielding frame as I solely concentrated on not having a breakdown. My eyes focused on his butterfly tattoo, but it wasn’t much help. I could see each flex and twitch of his body, the light layer of sweat he’d built during his performance, and I thought I was going to faint.
I lifted my eyes up to his face, seeing the way he smiled as he worked his body against mine, his hair dishevelled and perfect and I felt even worse.
“Touch me.” He demanded.
“What?” I cried.
“Let loose.” He sniggered, and I could just about hear him through the shrieks of the women around us. “Touch me.”
I nodded again, shakily reaching my hand and tracing the very tips of my fingers down his body, feeling his gorgeous muscles beneath my touch, and I think I near whimpered.
“Fuck me.” I trembled.
“If you want.” He grinned.
“No! No, I meant- Shit.”
He pushed back off me, and then offered his hand, stood ahead of me with an arrogant smile and flushed cheeks, and I didn’t even know what the fuck I was doing as I placed my hand in his. I was completely wrapped up in him, somehow becoming blind to my surroundings, and it had been that way ever since he stepped offstage.
It was only when I realised that he was dragging me back onstage with him that I fell with a thud back into reality.
“Are you kidding me?” I gasped, yanking my hand from his.
He turned back to me, pulling his body so it was close to mine, and he softened, completely changed just for a few brief moments, like it was just me and him.
“You’ll only be onstage for two minutes. I promise. I don’t wanna force you, but I promise you’ll be fine.”
I nervously bit at my bottom lip, noting that the smirk of his that I’d grown accustom to had fast become this kind smile, one that was impossible to say no to.
I placed my hand back in his, and allowed him to drag me back onto the stage, one of the other men pulling a chair from seemingly nowhere and placing it in the centre of the stage, which I soon sat down on.
I looked out to the girls I was there with, just about being able to make them out beyond the lights that now beat down hard onto my skin, and I could see them all dying. Some were on their feet, others were fanning themselves, others were laughing, I was pretty sure I even saw a couple of them crying.
But I couldn’t dwell on it for too long, because within seconds, the boy with the curls was back with me, throwing my legs apart so he could stand between them, and then he rapidly lifted his right leg so he could press his foot against the back of my chair, his arse on show for the audience and his dick in my face.
I’d struggled with the waiter earlier.
This time, I thought I’d seen my life flash before my eyes.
He thrust in my face, the squeals and cackles coming from the audience ringing in my ears as I forced my eyes back upwards, trying to ignore the flailing dick in my face, but that also involved ignoring the sheer size of the thing, which wasn’t an easy thing to do.
He lowered his leg quite quickly, and I wondered if this was something that usually went on a little bit longer and he was just rushing through the process because he knew I was dying inside.
He dropped down to his knees, still between my legs as he forced them even wider, and every time I thought the crowd couldn’t scream louder, they proved me wrong. He threw his head forward, and I knew exactly what it looked like to the audience, but even though his face was scarily close to my core, he was purely smiling up to me, as smug as he had been when he walked onstage for the first time.
My stomach was in complete tatters.
He jumped back to his feet after just a few seconds with his face between my legs, and then he took my hand again, dragging me to my feet and holding my hand up high before he leaned to my ear again.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“Ash.” I mumbled.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN,” He called to the room. “PLEASE SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION FOR OUR GUEST STAR FOR THE EVENING, ASH!”
I saw all the girls were on their feet by that point, cheering me happily and all still kind of falling over themselves over what had just happened.
None of it made any sense to me.
After I’d accepted my applause for a while, he once more took his lips to my ears, erupting an army of goose-bumps, lavishing my entire body when his low voice called to me, and only me.
“Go backstage,” He instructed. “They’ll sort you out.”
I was surprised my legs were still working, in all honesty. I gave the crowd a timid wave before I ran off the side of the stage, where a man with a big smile and a glass of champagne stood waiting for me.
“You did great.” He cooed once I was beside him, passing me the drink.
“I think I need fresh air.” I gasped, before immediately downing the entirety of the drink he’d handed me. “Is there anywhere I can go?”
“Smoking area just through those doors.” He pointed me in the right direction. “H once practiced on me, and I swear I questioned if I was straight or not afterwards.”
“H?” I questioned as he took the now empty glass from me hands.
“I can’t tell you his name.” He sniggered. “Nice try.”
“No, I didn’t- Fuck. Never mind. Thank you!”
I scuttled off towards the doors he had pointed me to, hearing the crowd cheer behind me as the music came to a halt, and although it had been the first of three shows going on that night, I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to sit through anything else. I also knew that there wasn’t a chance they could produce another boy who had that same effect on me that the tattooed boy had.
It felt like a physical relief once I was finally outdoors.
The evenings wind was bitterly freezing and exactly what I needed as I pressed my back against the bare brick wall, my breath coming out in thick clouds that rose towards the sky before disintegrating, and I watched each desperate pant in an attempt to calm and cool down.
I felt I was a few seconds away from being successful when I heard the doors open.
I whipped my head in their direction, and there he was again.
The mysterious, infuriatingly sexy, H.
He was slightly more covered than he had been, some grey sweatpants that were so low around his hips that I could see the beginning tufts of his pubic hair. He was still breathless, his torso still bare, and his feet bare too.
My whole body went tight again.
“Hi.” I gasped.
He smiled, letting the heavy door shut behind him, seeming a little confused to see me there, but happy nonetheless.
“Hello.” He greeted.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your show!” I blurted.
“What?”
“I totally freaked. I couldn’t let loose, I’m sorry.”
“Why did you freak so much?” He asked, slowly approaching me.
“Have you looked in a mirror? Ever?” I shivered. “That’s why.”
He chuckled as he approached me, running his large hand through his hair so that most of his curls fell to one side, and then he stopped in front of me, our bodies just inches from each other.
This, with him in front of me, looking down to me with eyes that I could now see were green, was somehow more intense than anything had been whilst we were out there with the crowd. There was something in the way he looked at me, and how I could finally feel exactly how cold it was when he was close.
“You didn’t ruin anything.” He told me. “I enjoyed it. I picked you on purpose.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Why?”
“It’s not that often we get quiet people here. People sometimes… take it a bit too far and… make us uncomfortable. Which is quite the task.” He grinned. “You seemed… tame. I like that.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever complimented me for being tame before.” I chuckled awkwardly.
“No?” He lowered his brows. “Don’t tell me I’ve got you wrong.”
“I dunno.” I shrugged, laughing lightly. “I’m not all tame.”
“Prove it.”
My head banged against the wall behind me, once again my eyes wide as I thought over his challenge, watching him edge even closer to me.
I managed to pull some confidence from somewhere, throwing away my logical thoughts and pushing up to my tiptoes so that I could press a soft kiss to his lips, just briefly, before I fell back down to my regular height.
I stared up to him, an apology on the very tip of my tongue before he threw his head forward, kissing me fiercely. His hands found their way to my waist, pushing me up against the wall as his tongue broke into my mouth, grunting as soon my lips widened to welcome his taste.
Our kiss was desperate, needy, hot and rattled. I’d fucking dreamt of what his lips were like on my body pretty much from the moment I saw him walk onstage, but those dreams didn’t compare to the real thing. I had no idea why he was choosing to kiss me, if this was something he did every night with every innocent woman that he dragged onstage, but I didn’t even care. His tongue felt like heaven as it laced with mine, his large hands seemed to completely engulf my waist, and it was like all that tension I’d felt in there was washing away.
His hands began to move down my body, and before I knew what he was doing, he was hitching my dress up, his fingers hooking through my underwear.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He gasped against my trembling lips.
“I don’t even know your name.” I gasped back.
“Harry.” He groaned, moving his lips to my neck. “Now can I fuck you?”
“Yes.”
He moved his hand and cupped my heat, before snaking two fingers into me, the digits sliding in with total ease.
“Did I make you this wet?” He lifted his lips to whisper in my ear. “Tell me.”
“Yes.” I whimpered.
With that, he fucked his fingers into me with harsh speed, his thumb rubbing against my clit and my legs buckling. He pressed his body even further into mine, trapping me between his frame and the wall so that I didn’t completely fall to the floor.
He moved to bite harshly at my neck, grunting as his fingers worked into me and made me weak, my pleasure leaking onto his skin, hot again regardless of the fact we were outside in the dingy smoking area of a fucking stripper club. The work of his hands sent shivers and trembles flirting through my entire body, my hand snaking up to grip at his hair as I felt myself breaking, his thumb moving even quicker and his teeth biting at my neck.
I stopped breathing as I came, and he moved his head so he could see my face, and once again he was smug, the left hand side of his top lip tugging upwards as he watched me ride it out.
“Fuck.” I gasped as he took his fingers and pulled them away.
There was a loud crash behind us, the two of us whipping our heads in the right direction, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, but it didn’t really work.
“Woah, shit, fuck, sorry.” Niall, the boy who had originally served us gasped, standing in the doorway but turning to look indoors. “H, you’re on again in five.”
“Okay. Cheers.” He grumbled back.
Once again, we were left alone, Harry looking back down to me, his Adams-apple bouncing as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, lightly sucking on them, relishing my taste.
“I’m sorry.” He grumbled. “I have to go.”
“Fuck.” I gasped again, still not back on earth.
“Stay backstage.” He demanded, gripping the back of my neck, his fingers still wet. “Stay back here.”
“My friends-”
“Fuck your friends.”
“It’s a hen-party.” I baffled. “I really should get back.”
“Fine.” He smirked, stepping away from me. “Well, go sit with them again, but after the last show… when one of the bouncers comes up to you and asks if you’ve left something backstage, you say yes. You understand?”
“Yes.” I nodded nervously.
“Good.” He smirked, backing away from me. “Well, in that case… I’ll finish you in a few hours.”
I hated how confident he was, because it only increased my nerves, and held them beneath a magnifying glass.
“Okay.” I trembled.
He pushed through to get back indoors, watching me from the doorway and saying one final thing before he disappeared, leaving me breathless and flustered among the brick and concrete.
“You taste amazing, by the way.” He sneered, and I’d never wanted anyone so much in my life.
