Personal Stripper Novels & Stories

"Gave my notice yesterday before we left. Two weeks and I'm done dancing." Derek goes very still. "Are you sure? I don't want you to give up something you're good at just because—" "I'm sure. It was always supposed to be temporary, a way to make money until I could open my gallery. And now with the baby coming and us trying to build something real, I'm ready to move on." I take his hand. "Plus I'm pretty sure pregnant strippers aren't exactly in high demand." He laughs. "Probably not. So what's the plan? You're really going to open a gallery?"

There was only one reason I was here, and that was to drink away the pain, to forget about that fight because it was still all I could think about. It wasn’t just that argument, but Anson as well. How could I celebrate when his head was not yet on a stick? I closed my eyes, but shot them open again when I felt two hands on my thighs. It was one of the strippers who had been trying to get my attention for a while now. She swayed her body side to side, giving me a show. Saying she wasn’t stunning would be an understatement. Her long, dark hair covered her exposed back as she bent over to show me her perfect, round ass.

He let out a dark chuckle and adjusted himself in his seat while I dropped to the floor and spread my legs before coming back up slowly, He licked his lips, and I took this as a sign to straddle his lap. "Let me see your breasts and I'll give you 5,000 dollars" He spoke keeping his hands on his sides trying his best not to touch me as you weren't allowed to touch strippers at this club. "I don't do that sir" I state roaming my hands over his broad shoulders and he smirks. "I'll give you 10,000, I won't touch I just want to see" He says and I notice a

he said, leaning back. I flipped the pages fast. Employment history at a strip club called The Velvet Room. No family listed, no assets, no education past high school. Several photos showed Adrian on stage, dressed to sell herself to paying men. "She's a stripper," I breathed. "An ex-con. This is perfect." The photos were the best. It had grainy security shots of her entering and leaving the club, the time-stamped and dated. Proof of the life she'd led before she walked into Darcy's house. That evidence carries every detail I needed.

I grew desperate, my waist starting to roll and grind against her hand, silently begging for more. The stripper smiled, sensing my growing need. She leaned down and started planting soft, wet kisses along my neck and shoulder, her tongue flicking out to taste my skin. The gentle affection contrasted perfectly with the building fire between my legs. Then, without warning, she shoved two fingers deep into my dripping pussy.

She spat out. The words strolled out of her mouth like it was just another normal word, like a waitress, doctor, or nurse. "Strip dancing?!" I had to repeat it, I had to be sure. She rolled her eyes so hard, I thought it ached her. "Yes, Jojo Wyatt. Stripping. It's basically dancing on a pole. You need the money; so don't you dare say no." She left out the part where I would be dancing, without clothes! This wasn't ballet, this was next-grade whore activities.

His other hand rests on his lap, dangerously close to the growing bulge I can already see pressing against his suit pants. When I glance back at the stage, another stripper is working the pole, grinding her hips, arching her back, ass clapping as guys cheer and throw tips at her feet. She looks so confident, so filthy, moving like she was born for it. For a second I wonder if I could’ve made the crowd that wild with moves like hers… but right now, this feels… safer.

Rolling her eyes, Hazel pushed herself off the chair and started walking out of the cafe they were currently sitting in to talk everything through. Jack's warning was ringing in her ears, making her feel dizzy. Who was he to warn her like this? He did not have that kind of authority. She needed to tell him. She needed to ask him to restrict Jack from talking like this to her. Marching through the streets, she mentally prepared herself for her first show tonight as a stripper at Dream Club. A VIP place where many confidential meetings of big Corporations were held.

Hoping to seduce him, she sat on his lap but Lucas softly rejected her advances. "Your mind seems to be elsewhere," she whispered, running her hand through his hair and attempting to unbutton his shirt. His lack of response frustrated her. "Why did you request a private session then, if you're not interested?" the stripper asked, growing more and more agitated. But Lucas remained silent, prompting her to threaten to leave. Yet, he grabbed her hands and stopped her from leaving. "What's your name?" he asked, holding onto her hand. The stripper sighed. "And what difference does my name make? You don't want me," she replied.

I just finished my task and about to go home since I still have classes tomorrow. As I walked in the pavement, refusing to ride the taxi due to the expensive fare, I had decided to just walk a kilometer instead to reach the nearest bus stop that would lead me to the street where I live with my mother and little brother, I gave a thought about my life. Kiara Stones, 22 years old and an architecture student of Himalaya University, a quiet and timid person during day, but a very different person during the night. And yes, I am a stripper at Desire Night Club. Yes I dance and strip but not totally to the point that I am totally naked. I and the other girls wear seductive and revealing dresses an