Page 169 of 12 Months of Mayhem

She spins, giving me her back while she removes the scrap of fabric over her breasts. The smooth expanse of her exposed back is enough to make me catch my breath in anticipation of seeing the rest of her. I’ve fantasized about being this close to her, and now she’s inches from my touch.

I can’t refrain, no matter how much my mind silently screams for me to stop, I reach for her. My fingertips lightly trail down along her spine, reveling in the silky, tanned flesh—nothing like my own. She’s so fucking soft. Perfect in her own way.

Leaning forward, I graze my lips over the smoothness, aware I’m not supposed to touch her. As a patron, I have to keep my hands to myself, but every inch of her calls on me to worship it, to stroke her and covet her as she deserves.

How is she here right now? She should be married. Holed up in a big house. Spoiled. Yet, I’d lose my mind if that were the case and she belonged to another. This is fate, it has to be.

Pressing a gentle kiss, she shivers from my loving touch, her goosebumps skating over her flesh. Then she’s moving, spinning around to face me once more and straddling my thighs. They’re big and bulky, making her spread her legs wide so her pussy is pressed up against my length as she leans forward, attempting to balance herself using my expansive chest.

One of my giant paws grips her tiny waste while the other gently presses flat against her back. I want her to know I’ll hold her, that she’s safe and can use me in any way she needs to. I’m hers for the taking. Her eyes are wide when they meet mine, cheeks flushed, and lips parted. She’s so fucking captivating in every way; she easily steals the breath from my lungs as I gaze at her, consumed by the feeling of her sweet curves pressed flush against my massive frame.

“Dance, my beautiful boo bear,” I manage to rasp, the command barely audible and leaving me slowly. She catches it, and her hips shift, side to side, round and round, and so help me, all I can picture is her riding my thick cock the same way. A deep groan leaves me, vibrating my chest, and she tilts herself until her gloriously naked breasts press to my chest and her delectable cunt rubs all over my cock through my jeans. I’m so g-damn hard I see stars each time she runs her pussy up, then sinks back down.

Gritting my teeth, I attempt to focus on breathing and not passing out when her hand reaches for mine, resting on her hip. Shifting my hold forward until my fingers slip under the minuscule scrap of fabric hiding the place I want to see most on her, then she’s shoving my hand downward. The tips of my fingers instantly find her clit, dipping between her pussy lips to her hot wetness. She’s fucking drenched, and I can’t hold myself back from shifting my hips upward, needing some rough friction against my cock to hold me over another few moments. She shouldn’t feel this good, not while I still have my clothes on.

“Fuck, little dancer, that’s one soaked cunt. You should let me lick it and make the tingles go away, baby.” At my gravelly plea, her mouth finds mine, and there’s no holding back from thrusting my tongue between her lips, desperate to have her taste on my tongue. I’ve thought about this moment too many times to count and it finally happening has me ready to worship her anyway she’ll allow.

Our tongues collide as we each eagerly convey our desire, then her hand is leading mine to where she needs it. Not willing to waste a moment of this night with hesitation, I thrust two fingers through her wetness again, then deep inside her. She’ll have to learn to take four or five of my fingers so I can stretch her enough to fit my girth inside. My cock is long and wide and intends to fill her completely with every single inch.

“Oh!” She moans against my mouth, grinding her needy little clit against my hand. Her gyrating has me ready to burst against my jeans, but somehow, I manage to keep my cum inside me, for the moment.

“That’s it, take those fingers, Raven. I’ll be filling you with more so you’ll be able to survive my cock next.” Her head falls back a moment as she tilts her pelvis right, left, forward, and then back. I can’t take it; her soaked pussy flooding my fingers has me pulling them free to fill her again with a third, then again with a fourth, until she’s gasping from being full.

“Mm, you have no idea. My cock is bigger than this, and I intend for you to work up to taking it all.”

“Yes,” she gasps, hands moving to my button and zipper on my jeans. Once released, I sit up enough for her to shove my pants off the chiseled ‘V’ of my hips, allowing my big, heavy dick to spring free.

“Take my cock in both of your hands and rub your sweet little cunt juice all over the tip, baby.”

She’s such a good fucking girl as she does as I ask, using her muscles from dancing to hover her precious cunt over my tip, rubbing it again and again, making me hiss and grunt, bite my lower lip, and wrench my head back. It feels too g-damn good. I want her like no one I’ve ever had before, and it’s in the insatiable need that leads me to move my hands, grip her hips tightly, and thrust my cock up inside her, smashing through her hole I was so desperately working to loosen so as not to hurt her. I’m too impatient, however, and it’s a moment I’ll never forgive myself for. I should’ve had enough sense to refrain and hold myself back from moving a single inch until she decided it was the right time and slowly, carefully slid her tight pussy down my length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I growl as she winces and goes still. “I’m sorry, Raven, please forgive me. I’ll do anything for you, I swear it, anything. You are everything, and I’ve ruined the moment. I promise I won’t hurt you again, sweetheart.” I’m mumbling, rambling, ready to promise her the entire world if it means she won’t be angry with me.

A tear trails down her cheek, but then something earth-shattering happens. She begins to move. Up. Down. Right. Left. Shifting around in this circle more that makes me shoot precum inside her. She shakes her head, her hands on my chest as she claims, “I want it, give me more.”

I’m inside her. My Raven.

Chapter Three

Raven

I slept with him.

It’s pretty much in the unspoken rule book of stripper code 101 not to sleep with the patrons. How could I be so careless? If anyone else saw us, they’d be expecting the same treatment from me. I’ll get the reputation in the club of being the stripper who fucks. Of being a ho. I’m so not a ho in real life, either.

I’ve never done anything like this before. I promised myself I never would. Yet, somehow, I found myself so turned on I couldn’t think of anything other than sticking the huge man’s cock inside me. Blame it on losing control in the heat of the moment because once I started, there was no stopping it. I was dick-na-tized; I had to be.

I’d shamelessly rubbed my pussy and body all over that gorgeous hunk of man-beast. What was I expecting him to do? Not stick his dick inside me because there were people around? If anything, I took advantage of him. I was already planning on fucking him whether he’d thrust his cock inside me fully at that moment or not. I’d have made it happen. He’s a customer, one who was drinking and celebrating with friends. Of course he’d fuck me, given the option. I’d have fucked me too.

Powerhouse.

I’ve heard the other strippers talking about him on more than one occasion. How he’s a catch, how he cares for them, and is kind to all women. Why does the thought of him doing anything for my co-workers fill me with so much irritation? Is it because I want him to treat me the way he does them? Like I’m the sweetest person he’s come across all day and he has nothing better to do with his time other than listen to me complain about whatever problems I’m facing in the moment and then expect him to protect me from something? Ugh, I’m not a woman needing his help, nor his protection, and realistically I’m sure he has better things to do. It’s ridiculous for me to expect him to care about me. He doesn’t even know me.

Although… he spoke to me. He signed. I haven’t met a man as gorgeous as he is who knows anything about ASL, let alone to try and use it with me. The guys I come across have been tools, and I have no interest in their dipshit drama.

Ballet consumed my life when I was younger, so any potential male candidates I came across in the program ended up being gay. I suppose I can blame it on being in a smaller area where the boys who were actually interested in females were busy playing football rather than spinning around and stretching alongside me in dance class. There was zero sexual chemistry between me and the other dancers, so boys took a backseat in my life for the most part growing up.

Then my accident happened, and men were the furthest thing from my mind while I attempted to heal and learn to live all over again. Now, however, I can’t claim the same while working in a strip club. Men are literally everywhere, and I’m not sure any of them are the type I want to think twice about. Let alone fuck. Or attempt to have an intelligent conversation with.

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