A date with the surrogate

Rodri's POV

“Want another drink, handsome?” The stripper purred in a seductive tone, wrapping her long, shiny fingers around the expensive champagne in the ice bucket on my table.

I opened my eyes half way to look at her. She was sitting on my thighs, straddling me, with one hand in my hair, and her voluptuous breasts in front of my face. I answered gruffly, “I’m good. Pour yourself a drink, if you want some.”

She seemed to like my response, because she leaned back to open up the bottle, bouncing her ass slightly on my thighs to the beat of the music. It was night time, and I was in a gentleman’s club trying to ease up the stress I had been feeling lately.

Ever since my old man fucking gave me a one month ultimatum to get him a child, or lose my rights as his son, my stress levels had skyrocketed. I hated my cousin Benson with every fucking fiber in my body, to think he stood a chance to get everything I was entitled to, was driving me insane.

But I would never let that happen.

The po