P*rnstation
My clit throbbed, wet heat flooding my thong, my stomach tightening.
A bouncer tapped my shoulder, handed me a black card: “Booth 7. Now. –K.” My pulse spiked. I slipped off the stage, heels clicking, the crowd parting like I was already his.
The booth door hissed shut behind me, sealing out the roar. Plush leather, dim red lights, the glass wall vibrating with bass. Kai sat back, legs spread, cock already straining through his slacks. “Dance for me,” he said, voice low, dangerous.