“I’ll Empty My Pockets If You Empty My Balls”
Superstarbur x Female Stripper Reader
Warnings: Do not ask for sex at a strip club. Or really, do anything from this fic besides tip generously.
Goddamn it. Y’all won. I wanted Simpbur but the masses spoke.
Fic below cut!
Saturday nights were always a hit or miss. Even though I’d spent hours getting ready, strapped my highest heels to my feet, and slipped into my signature look- tiny black thong, tinier black bikini, shiny red lips- I had made a grand total of 43 dollars.
“Slow night, then, love?” The bartender says sympathetically, reaching for what he needed for my usual. “Such a shame. You’re dressed to the nines without anyone to appreciate it.”
I suppress a groan, forcing my scarlett-painted lips into a sly smile. “So sweet of you to notice,” I murmur, tracing a sharp, sparkly nail down his forearm.
He slides my drink across the bar, made perfectly- vodka cranberry, extra shot of vodka, dash of simple syrup, lots of ice. Sometimes sloppy, lipstick-smudged blowjobs in the back alley really pay off.
“Hey boo, you’re up on stage. A group of guys just walked in.” My coworker, Amethyst, taps me on the shoulder. “Finish your vodka-cran and get shaking.”
“I’ll be sure to keep my eye on you, gorgeous,” the bartender winks as I down my drink. Once my back was turned, I allowed myself an eye roll. Amethyst laughs, shaking her head.
“Girl, even I wouldn’t do that for all the liquor behind that bar,” she tells me, grinning. “You look great, by the way. Those heels will be perfect. One of those guys is downright stunning. He’s taller than any of us in heels.
I glance over where she’s looking. Four guys sit at one of the nicer seats, a soft leather couch I’ve taken more than several naps on during slow nights. I immediately see the guy Amethyst is talking about. He’s at least a head taller than the other guys, with a softly sculpted jawline and a mess of brown curls falling over his eyes.
“Damn, let’s hope he has some seriously deep pockets.” I reply, laughing. “Wish me luck!”
“Whenever you’re ready, darling,” the DJ gives me a thumbs up. “You’ll kill it!”
I blow him a kiss as I walk out to applause. The club has filled out a little now, luckily, but the four guys Amethyst mentioned are front row. The silver chains laying over my hips swish as I walk, the rubies signature to my look softly clinking together.
“Gentleman, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the stunning Ruby Woo, a lady who will really get your blood flowing!” The DJ announces as I strut along the front of the stage, making eye contact with everyone I see. Amethyst taught me that trick when I first started stripping, and it worked like a charm. Men love to believe that the stripper likes them for more than their money.
I hook a leg around the pole and slowly spin, giving everyone a perfect view of my ass. As the music kicks up a notch, I straighten my leg fully, in a sideways split, still spinning ever-so-slowly as I play with the ties on my top. I can hear cheering, whistling, and my favourite sound- the soft flutter of money over the music.
As I bring my leg back down, I fall to my knees at the very front of the stage, biting my lower lip and shaking my tits while slowly spreading my legs apart. When my knees are far enough apart, I pull off Amethyst’s favourite move- riding an imaginary dick. I feel ridiculous, but money is raining over me and the cheers are growing louder.
I allow myself a glance at the tall guy and his friends, running a tongue along my top lip as I wink at him. He winks back, making me hide a grin. The only thing better than a hot guy in front of my stage is a stack of cash, and I note how many him and his friends are holding.
Slowly, I stand up and turn around. Amethyst always tells me that strippers need a ‘special sauce’, and mine is definitely my ass.
I shift to standing on the balls of my feet, tapping my heels together to clap my ass in time to the music. As the crescendo of the music hits, I tug the back of my top and it falls to the floor. When I turn back around, two heart-shaped, sparkling red pasties sit in its place, dotted in rhinestones.
I give the stage a second strut before I begin my pole routine, hopping off the stage to let the men get a proper look at me. Hands brush my ass, tits, hips, back, anywhere they can touch. Bills are stuffed into my thong, boots, even my garter.
The cute guy’s friends are egging him on to tuck a folded bill into my thong. Seizing my chance, I plant myself in front of him, planting a heel on the sofa next to him.
His handsome face is looking all over me, at my nearly-bare body, and I’m pleased to see a rock-hard boner in his pants, even a drop or two of precum starting to spread over the front of his jeans. As he slips the folded bill into my garter, I stroke his arm, blow him a kiss, and head back to the stage.
Normally, when I head to the pole and start my routine, my head goes blank. Nothing but me, the music, and the pole. While I’m excellent at pretending to like the men, I was not having to pretend I liked the tall guy in the front. Hot guys were rare in the club, even rarer that they had money.
I finish my routine to rounds of applause, pleased to see the rain of bills on the stage around me. Mostly 1s and 5s, but i’m surprised to see a few 20s in the mix. The curtains close, allowing me to gather my cash. I’d count it all later, but I knew for certain I’d beaten my record. The bill slipped into my thong by the hot guys in the front was a crisp 100.
“Those guys in the front are waiting for you,” Amethyst whispers as she walks up for her stage slot. “They’ve got stacks of 100s.”
Quickly, I stash my bag of cash, fix my lipstick, tie my top back on, and slink back to the floor area. Amethyst was right. The four men were still on the front couch.
“It’s rare you find four handsome men all at once,” I say, voice dripping with seduction. “How are you doing this fine evening?”
The hot one smiles, stepping closer and fiddling with the chains on my hips. “Well hello, there, darling. That was quite a show you put on for me.”
His friends have faded away, heading to the bar or being clung to by other girls. He doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are only for me.
“You know my name, but I haven’t quite caught yours,” I reply, running a finger down the buttons on his shirt.
He smirks. “Come sit on my lap and I’ll tell you?”
“Oh, honey, that’ll cost you. I only do that in the VIP.” It’s a risk, mentioning money so quickly, but he doesn’t even blink, counting out 10 more crisp 100s and sticking them in my thong strings.
I pretend to swoon, taking his hand and leading him to the VIP room. Flipping the sign on the door to ‘occupied’, I turn around to see him already lounging on the leather couch.
“Ok, handsome, what should I call you?” I whisper in his ear, sliding onto his lap and toying with his curls. “It’s a crime not to know the one name I’ll remember from tonight.”
“I’m Wilbur,” he replies, “but as long as you’re saying it in your sweet, sweet voice, you can call me what you like.”
Giggling, I kiss the tip of his nose. “Is Will ok?”
“Only if you take off your top,” he smirks, pulling out yet another stack of bills and threading some in next to the others. “How much extra to touch you?”
“500. Take it or leave it.”
He immediately counts out 5 more 100s. “How much for you to touch me?”
“Depends on how far you’re trying to get,” I reply, tracing a nail down the fly of his jeans. “I’ll do anything you want… for a price.”
“Anything?” Wilbur’s dark eyes run up and down my body.
I undo the straps on my top. “Anything,” I reply, placing his hands on my tits.
He gently squeezes them, and I gently grind on his still-hard cock. The stimulation makes him groan.
“Empty my balls and I’ll empty my pockets,” he whispers. “Deal?”
We were allowed to have sex with customers, but I never did. Or, at least, I thought I never would.
“Deal,” I reply, and he grins at me in the dim lighting. “I never do this, you know.”
“Oh, darling, you’ll never again after me. You know why?” Wilbur pulls out his wallet, sliding a shiny card into the top of my boot. “There’s a 100,000 dollar limit. I’ll tell you the pin… if you give me the time of my life.”
I unzip his jeans ever-so-slowly, licking my lips. “If you want head first, you’ll need a condom. Club rules.”
“What if I show you my test results from last week? I’m clean as a whistle,” he replies, pulling out his phone and showing me. He’s not lying.
I pretend to think. “I suppose I can bend the rules… just for you.”
His cock is huge, thick, and heavy, absolutely dripping with precum. He’s hot, he knows it, and I’m probably going to choke.
“This’ll feel even better inside me, Will,” I sigh, taking a deep breath and sliding as much as I can down my throat. I’ve never struggled with gagging before, but as my nose brushes his stomach, I have to fight the urge.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps. “Oh God.” His hips jump up, and I squeeze my eyes shut. All I can think about is not gagging.
His hands find my hair, and he grips it tightly, helping me to bob my head and push himself deeper into my throat. His cockiness seems to have vanished the second my lips wrapped around his cock, and I smile to myself.
“Nobody has ever fit me down their throat before,” he groans when I slide back to give my poor throat a rest. “God, you’re amazing.”
I start to lick and tease the head of his cock, stroking the rest as I fondle his balls. I’ve never met a man who doesn’t absolutely melt from that trifecta, and he’s certainly not the exception. Another bead of precum forms, and I lick it off, tracing my tongue all the way down to the base before I deepthroat him again.
I can feel each vein and throb from his cock as he fucks my throat, noises falling from his mouth getting louder and louder.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he gasps, pulling out of my throat, chest heaving. “I haven’t even been inside your pretty little pussy yet.”
“It would be such a shame if you didn’t get to feel how tight I am,” I sigh, looking up at him through my lashes.
He yanks my thong down, rips off my pasties, and stands up. “Bend over the arm of the couch.”
“Do you have a condom?” I ask, doing as he asks and shaking my ass invitingly.
Wilbur smiles. “Of course I do. Most condoms don’t fit me, anyway, so I have to bring my own.”
Smug bastard.
He takes off his jeans, unbuttons his shirt, and rolls on the condom. “You ready, baby girl?”
“I’ve been ready to feel you inside me the moment I saw you,” I murmur, looking over my shoulder. “Don’t go easy on me. I can take it.”
Sliding the tip of his cock through the folds of my pussy, he wraps an arm around my waist. “Oh, honey, you’ll regret saying that.”
He slides inside me slowly, letting me feel how he stretches me out, and when he’s finally all the way inside, I’d bet money that you’d see the bulge from his cock on my stomach if he flipped me over.
“Your pussy is magical,” he whispers, thrusting into me like I’m a fuckdoll for his enjoyment. As much as I’m in it for the money, it feels incredible, and I let out a small moan.
Wilbur spanks me, hard. “Louder, doll. I want to hear how good my cock makes you feel.”
“Will!” I cry out. “Fuck!”
“Good girl.” He yanks my head up by my hair. “God, you’re gorgeous. You’ve got a perfect body for me, the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt.”
I moan at his words, and he fucks me harder. The music and various sounds from the club fade away, and I can only hear his grunts and moans, his skin on mine, and how wet he’s made my pussy.
“Nobody’s ever fucked me this hard,” I gasp, and he somehow goes harder. “Your cock is so good, I’m gonna cum.”
Wilbur’s hand travels down and roughly rubs my clit. I squeal, and he rubs faster. “Moan my name as you cum on my cock.”
The orgasm slams into me, fire flooding through me from our joined bodies. I’m dimly aware of the gush of liquid from between my legs, knees shaking, and he has to hold me up.
“Oh, love, that was a good one, hm?” Wilbur whispers in my ear, kisses my cheek. “Nobody will ever make you cum like I will.”
I’m in absolute ecstasy. My entire body is so sensitive after my orgasm, every thrust feels like heaven.
Suddenly, he pulls out of me, flips me onto my back, and dives right back in. He’s thrusting just as hard, but guides my face up to meet his with a kiss. Wilbur tastes like whiskey and a hint of cigarette smoke, lips surprisingly soft and tender.
“I want to watch you cum again,” he says, pulling our lips apart. “Rub your clit while I fuck you, ok, baby?”
I do as he says, and he watches hungrily as my orgasm hits. A shower of squirt rains between us, and his eyes roll back as my pussy squeezes him.
“Oh, fuck, darling, that’s going to make me cum,” Wilbur grunts. “I’m going to pull out and paint those perfect tits of yours.”
He thrusts a couple more times, pulls out, and yanks off the condom. I reach up and finish him off, enjoying his moans as the sticky, hot cum showers over me. It’s seemingly endless, rope after rope shooting out and landing on my face, tits, and stomach.
Finally, his balls are drained as promised. I let go of his cock, run a finger through a little puddle of cum, and pop it into my mouth, licking it clean with a wink. “God, I love the taste of cum.”
Wilbur grins down at me. “You’re so fucking hot.”
I stand up, heading for the cupboard where we keep wipes, tissues, and anything else that our customers might need after a great time in VIP. I toss him a bottle of water and a package of tissues to clean himself up.
“Remind me what the date is today?” Wilbur asks after a few moments, dabbing my squirt off his stomach.
I think for a second. “November 30th.”
“1130 is the pin for the card, then. I’ll set it up tonight.” He smiles at me. “How much do you charge for, uh, personal sessions? Outside of the club.”
I bat my eyelashes at him to cover up my shock. “Let me give you my phone number so we can work things out, Will.” I’d gotten a work phone at Amethyst’s suggestion, and this is the first time I’d used it.
“I’ll pay whatever fees you want,” he promises, zipping up his jeans. “My band and I are on tour a lot, and I could always fly you out. Anywhere you’ve always wanted to visit?”
Is this real?
“I’ve always wanted to travel to Australia,” I say.
He nods, grabbing out his wallet and handing me every single bill. “That’s where we’ll tour next, then. All expenses paid for you, of course. First class plane tickets, a new purse, anything you could want. It’ll be yours.”
We meet up with his bandmates just outside the room, and he kisses me goodbye. “I’ll call you when I need some late-night fun, princess.”