Evelyn 15 - Taking Turns

"I want five upfront," Evelyn said.

Ivan’s hand tightened around her wrist with an equally tight smile. As if he knew the answer was never in doubt. It grated against Evelyn’s nerves.

He dipped his hand into the duffel bag at his feet and worked through stacks casually, slapping together five clean bands before shoving them into Evelyn's chest one at a time. He watched the way they pressed into her jumpsuit. His motions were balanced perfectly between playful and aggressive. With the last stack, Ivan let his hand press against the shape of Evelyn's breast while glancing up at her.

"Five stacks,' He said.

Evelyn smiled, wearing her mask of professionalism with poise and grace. She stepped away from Ivan and slid the stacks into her bag. Double-checking to ensure the bills were real.

"You had them counted?" She asked.

"Of course I had them fucking counted," Ivan said dismissively. Evelyn already knew that, but it helped to remind him that this was a business for her at the end of the day.

She returned to Ivan, holding out the burner phone she used for recording.

"A deals a deal," She said.

Ivan took it without question.

"Guess it's time we give your little friend a show."

Behind them, the private room hummed faintly. Low red lights painted everything with a soft glow that flattened all edges. Frosted tables gleamed with rings of condensation. The bass from downstairs rose and fell like a distant ocean. His posse still sat on the large couch surrounding the strip pole in the middle of the room. Ivan turned to them and gestured lazily.

"Alright, it's show time. Make a fucking circle around her," His voice grew loud as he stood. The men began to shift, their slow movements fueled by liquor. Evelyn watched them carefully for signs of trouble as Ivan’s gaze flicked toward the other dancer who hovered along the wall, pretending not to listen.

"You want in on this?" He asked, peeling two bands from the pile and lifting them toward her.

She stared at the money. Then at Evelyn.

"I think I'm good," she said. The tone carried judgment, but there was nothing new about that. Even though they were in the same industry, most women judged Evelyn more harshly. At first, it was because she was younger than they were, then it was because she could pull in larger clients. Then it was her success. Then, her willingness to capitalize on that success. No matter which way she went, there seemed to be daggers following close behind.

"If you guys are all set, I think I'll be heading out," The dancer continued. Ivan shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Close the door on your way out."

She did, promptly. As the door latched, Evelyn didn't hesitate. She moved before anyone else had a chance to take charge, and looked at the three men for what they were – her marks.

The one on the left was the loudest. She had seen him before and already knew his name was Trey. It fit him. He was a thick, pale man. Built like a misshapen refrigerator with rail-thin legs. A worn Rolex sat on one wrist, no doubt purchased in the shady jewelry lots downtown. A poorly inked neck tattoo peeked from his collar. An eagle, maybe. The blown-out lines made it hard to tell. He was the usual type of customer at strip clubs, which meant Trey already knew the rules. He wouldn't be a problem.

The man next to him, Colton, as Ivan called him, wore a tight polo that strained against his chest. It was clear his only noteworthy personality trait was his muscles. He had a buzz cut that screamed military nut, but his childish demeanor and co-dependent attachment to Ivan made it clear he'd never served. None of the rich ones did. His jeans were a decade out of style, along with the worn loafers he'd likely pulled from his father's closet. He would make eye contact with her, then follow up with a forced, loud, obnoxious laugh. He was uncomfortable with the situation. Evelyn could use that.

Then there was Zeke, the wiry one. He had been in Ivan's cohort for a while now. The man was all bones and fast twitches. Evelyn suspected he had a drug problem, which might make him more jumpy than the rest. He sat with one knee bouncing, tapping his platinum card against the glass table absentmindedly. His eyes flitted from Evelyn to Ivan, back to his drink, then up again.

He definitely would be the most volatile of the bunch. She'd need to keep an eye on him.

Ivan turned on the burner phone's camera and pointed it at himself.

“Hey man,” he said, grinning into the lens. “Don’t fucking remember your name, but thought you might like to see what your girlfriend is up to."

Then he turned the camera on Evelyn as the three began to approach her.

“Alright. Get to work." Ivan's tone was filled with demeaning contempt.

Evelyn stood still for a moment in the center of the room, letting the heat of their stares land across her body. The black jumpsuit she wore shimmered under the low red light. It clung to every curve like a second skin. The vintage belt cinched her waist tight, drawing their eyes where she wanted them. She rolled her neck once, hair cascading over her shoulder, then turned in a slow circle like she was modeling for them.

Trey whistled. “Jesus Christ. Ivan, you've been hiding her?”

Colton laughed loudly in response, but it was Zeke who stared with the most intent.

"You are Gothychix, right? The one from the video where–"

"You bet," Evelyn said, cutting Zeke off with a wink. She turned to Ivan. "I'm surprised you haven't already told them who I am."

Ivan smiled behind the camera. "I don't typically like sharing."

Evelyn smirked.

"Wait… Gothychix… I know that name," Colton said with a snort, pulling out his phone.

"Of course you fucking know! She's the one I showed you, remember?" Zeke said.

Colton finished typing into his phone, then his eyes widened. "Holy shit… It is her."

"I take it you're a fan?" Evelyn asked him. Colton glanced up.

"Huh? Well, I mean… You're everywhere, so it's not like I can get away from you…"

Evelyn smiled. Subconscious shame was typical for men like him. An inability to accept the dissonance it took to hide their lust and still come to places like this. They couldn't admit she had power over them. They had to keep the illusion that they were the ones in control.

She moved to the center of the group with deliberate steps. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, then disappeared as she stepped onto the thick velvet carpet. She went for Trey first, sliding her fingers down the inside of his collar, teasing the edge of that ugly tattoo.

“Who did your ink?” she asked softly.

Trey grinned. “My boy in Pasadena. You like it?”

“It’s unforgettable,” she replied. Colton stepped forward eagerly; she knew he would. Evelyn glanced over at him and eyed the glass in his hand. She let her fingers trail over the rim before taking it gently from his hand. She took a slow sip, eyes never leaving his.

Colton looked like he’d stopped breathing.

She turned her head slightly, lips wet from the drink. “Vodka soda?”

“It’s Grey Goose," Colton confirmed. She caught the tremble in his breath.

Evelyn handed the glass back without breaking eye contact. “A little cheap, don't you think?”

Colton flushed. Evelyn was surprised. She had expected a bit more fight out of him. He would be easier than she thought. Evelyn turned to Zeke next. He was watching her like a wolf waiting to pounce. She reached up and brushed a speck of lint from his shoulder. Zeke didn’t blink. For someone like him, no reaction was a good sign. At least for now.

“I'm not paying you to chat," Ivan said shortly.

Evelyn put him out of her mind as she straightened. She was good at this part, at forgetting about anything outside this moment. She unhooked her belt with a slow, practiced slide and let it fall to the floor.

Then dropped slowly to her knees.

Velvet pressed against her legs as the circle closed in. The buzz of male hunger thickened, a chemical scent of cologne mixing with lust and sweat.

Belts unclasped. Zippers slid down.

She didn’t need to tell them what to do. They moved like they’d rehearsed it, like men who had jerked off to her for years and were finally getting their chance at the real thing.

Trey moved first. She assumed as much. He sprang out of his pants fully erect while the others worked themselves over. She grasped Colton and Zeke in her hands to help them while Trey eagerly thrust himself between her lips. His gut pushed against her nose as he pumped his short, wide cock in her mouth.

He was easy to deep throat. She swirled her tongue around him as he rutted like a rabid dog. He groaned loudly, gripping the back of Evelyn's head tightly, trying to force himself deeper. Evelyn’s throat opened on instinct, her tongue pressing flat beneath the base of the shaft, guiding him deeper as he used her mouth like a fuck toy.

She could feel the other two hardening in her hands. Zeke had a pronounced twitch each time she stroked him. He was long and veiny as well. Colton, however, was thicker. She worked them with practiced ease, letting her rhythm sync with the movement of her mouth.

Trey let go of the back of her head, and Evelyn began to bob.

Controlled. Measured. She found her pace and used the full length of her mouth to milk every inch of him while her hands circled the others, squeezing in perfect, alternating rhythm. Moans echoed overhead. The kind she had heard hundreds of times before.

“Jesus Christ,” Trey grunted. “She’s so fucking good at this.”

His thighs trembled. His breath hitched.

He lunged forward without warning, burying himself as deep as her throat would allow.

Then he came.

A guttural gasp ripped from his chest as he pulsed into her mouth. Evelyn moaned around him, swallowing reflexively as heat spread across her tongue. She tasted salt, musk, and cheap vodka. She didn’t pull away. She held him until his spasms faded.

Trey thrust a few more times, emptying himself completely with a low, satisfying sigh. As soon as he began to pull away, Zeke shoved him back, his cock replacing Trey’s instantly.

His veiny length slapped against Evelyn’s wet lips before she could fully inhale. He pushed himself into her completely. Evelyn’s throat clenched as he facefucked her without rhythm, like a man who was experiencing oral for the first time in his life. His hands tangled in her hair. He made noise constantly. Low gasps, high whines, a running monologue of disbelief.

Behind her, she felt Colton grip her waist and hoist her up.

It surprised her; she had assumed he'd be too timid to take initiative like that. Still, she followed his motion, raising and presenting her ass for him. His hands groped eagerly, squeezing with force before gripping the fabric of her jumpsuit. She heard a sharp tear of fabric before she registered what had happened.

Her jumpsuit gave way, splitting perfectly down her back.

Cold air kissed her bare skin as the tear widened, her body half-exposed in a flash of violent desperation.

She jumped up.

“Hey!” she snapped, voice sharp. Zeke promptly grabbed her head and shoved it back down onto his cock.

"I'm not done…" He said desperately. "I'm not… not done."

He pumped vigorously as Colton's hands explored Evelyn's wet pussy.

“Relax, I’ll get you a new one,” Ivan said flatly.

Evelyn moaned. Practiced, rehearsed, controlled. It wasn't uncommon for men to lose themselves. Plus, she could use the destruction of property to her advantage later. Evelyn turned her head just enough to catch the glow of the phone in Ivan’s hand. The camera was fixed on her with laser focus. It was then that a frightening thought struck her.

Elijah was going to see this.

He was going to see her torn open. Spit-roasted. Fucked by men who were little more than strangers.

She felt it coil in her chest. A wave of guilt and arousal that was foreign to her. It wasn’t supposed to matter. In fact, it had never mattered before. Countless men had come and gone from her life. Countless had known what she did and even watched.

It wasn't supposed to matter.

But with Elijah, it did.

The camera stayed trained on her as Zeke kept her mouth full, still thrusting sloppily, eyes half-closed. Salvia dripped down her chin, and Evelyn forced herself to focus on the muscle memory.

Then she felt Colton's thick cockhead slide against her. He squeezed her ass as he thrust slowly. Her jumpsuit hung off her waist in shreds. His hands slid up to her covered breasts and squeezed them tightly, then he tugged at the hem around her chest. The jumpsuit was strapless, and one quick tug exposed her tits to the cold club air. Zeke's pace quickened at the sight of them, replacing Colton's hands as his grip slid down to Evelyn’s hips like handlebars.

Then, Colton slid his cock back and slowly began to press into her.

Evelyn knew she should have demanded condoms; she knew the risks. But she also already knew Ivan and the conversation that would have followed. He would have vouched for them, complained, dismissed, and Evelyn would have believed him. Despite his repulsive nature, Ivan still had tact. There was no way he would have brought company in that would ruin his chances of having her. Or, more importantly, have even the slightest chance of passing an STD to him.

So Evelyn focused on Colton’s cock, and his cock was big. Bigger than she’d expected. The first thrust landed hard enough to make her pull off Zeke and gasp. His tip pressed into her deep. Her legs shook as she tried to stay balanced.

“Oh my god,” she breathed between thrusts. At those words, Zeke promptly shoved himself back into her mouth. Letting her moans slip between his length.

The two began to move together. Pushing Evelyn between them with a brutal, primal rhythm. Colton slammed into her from behind, and Zeke gagged her from the front. Evelyn's thighs quivered as Colton’s cock hit her again and again, slamming against her cervix with every pump. Then, with a final, powerful thrust, he turned her sideways, dragging her toward the couch like she weighed nothing.

Zeke popped out of her mouth. He shouted in protest.

“Hey!” Zeke snapped, stumbling forward.

“Shut up,” Colton growled, hauling her onto the furniture. “You’ll get your turn.”

Colton tightened his grip and shoved Evelyn over the back of the couch.

She folded over, chest sinking into the cushions as the breath left her lungs in one sharp exhale. Her hands dug into the leather. She felt him square up behind her, body heat pressing close, his breath hard and uneven.

Colton drove into her again.

Her stomach pressed deeper into the couch as he filled her, using her hips like anchors, pulling her back to meet every thrust. The angle was punishing. Every movement landed deep, knocking small, breathy sounds out of her throat she couldn’t control.

He fucked with the single-minded force of a bull.

Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Heat coiled low and fast. Her jaw went slack. The rhythm found something inside her and dragged it upward. Pain blurred into pleasure. Then into something sharper.

She broke.

A scream tore out of her as her body shook violently, her legs trembling while the unexpected orgasm crawled through her. The room pulsed in time with it. Red lights wavered. Heat crawled up her neck. The wet sound of skin slapping as juices poured from her entrance. It had been a long time since a client made her cum like that.

Her eyes snapped open.

And Evelyn found the camera staring back at her.

Ivan had it tilted perfectly to her face. He himself was hidden behind the recording light that glowed like a small, cruel star.

Colton slammed forward with a ragged shout.

“Fuck!”

He buried himself inside her, hips smashing flush against her backside. Evelyn felt the pressure drive higher, hitting the same sore place deep inside her over and over as his cock pulsed with release. His body stiffened and held. His breath came out in broken bursts.

She felt the warmth of his seed spread through her as he emptied himself.

And all of it was on camera.

Her mouth parted as she still shook, caught between shame and pleasure. Elijah would see that expression. He would see every flicker across her face. The vulnerability. The surrender. The way she had come apart.

Colton finally loosened his grip and staggered back, panting.

Evelyn collapsed forward the second his hands left her waist. Her knees buckled, forehead resting against the cushion. Her thighs trembled so hard she could barely steady herself.

Ivan’s overly casual voice drifted into focus.

“Damn. Well, at least you know she’ll be nice and broken in for you.”

He unzipped his pants, the sound cutting through the low thrum of the club's bass.

As Ivan did, Zeke eagerly walked behind Evelyn. He hooked his arm under her waist and dragged her upright, forcing her back onto trembling legs. Before she found balance, he thrust inside her from behind in one sharp, urgent motion.

She gasped.

Evelyn gripped the back of the couch to keep herself steady as Zeke drove into her with frantic thrusts. He had none of Colton’s heaviness, but twice the speed.

Ivan stepped in front of her.

His pants were open. Phone still lifted, the lens locked on her face as if it were the only part that mattered.

"Look up at me," He commanded. Reluctantly, Evelyn obeyed. He smiled, pressing his tip against her lips.

"She really does have beautiful eyes, doesn't she?" Ivan said as he slowly slid into her mouth. She let her tongue relax and jaw loosen as he began to thrust. Slow at first. Then deeper. The recording light hovered above her, capturing Ivan's length disappear between her lips over and over. Zeke pounded from behind, their movements clashing but slowly finding a rhythm that used Evelyn like a pivot point. The room filled with the harsh cadence of their breathing. The slap of skin. The faint clink of glass somewhere on the table.

The minutes began to blur together.

Ivan’s grip tightened in her hair, guiding her, pushing just until her throat swallowed around him, then easing back. Zeke groaned, his pace never slowing, his hands digging hard enough into her waist to bruise.

At some point, Evelyn stopped hearing them.

But she still felt the camera.

Each small gasp. Each stutter in her breath. Each tiny expression that escaped despite her best efforts. All of it was saved and heading somewhere it didn’t belong.

To Elijah.

Her pulse hammered.

Zeke grabbed her arms and yanked her away from Ivan’s grip, hauling her upright and spinning her. He dragged her around the couch and dropped onto it, planting himself onto the cushions.

“Sit,” he muttered, already pulling Evelyn down onto his cock.

She didn’t resist.

He filled her again as she sank onto his lap, her back turned to him, facing out toward the room. Her hands braced against his knees while she began to move, hips rolling in steady, practiced waves. Her ass met his thighs in smooth, rhythmic drops. Reverse cowgirl was one of her specialties. Most men lost themselves in this position.

Zeke’s head fell back.

“Fuck…”

His hands slid up her waist to her breasts, squeezing them as she rode him harder, losing herself in the motion because it was easier than thinking.

Zeke's breath quickened.

His hips started to thrust upward to meet hers.

She felt the tremor hit him before the sound did.

His body tensed. A sharp, broken moan escaped his throat.

Evelyn drove herself down one last time, burying him inside.

He came with a strangled gasp, clutching her tightly as he pulsed.

She stayed there, back arched, chest rising and falling, feeling the heat spread through her again.

All the while, the camera in front of her remained steady.

Evelyn’s eyes drifted toward the far side of the room.

Colton and Trey stood near the table now, both half-lit by the room's red lights. Pants still open. Cocks in their hands.

She could read them like a menu.

They weren’t finished. Not even close. They’d try for round two. They always did.

And that was the plan.

They had a taste, and now she would bleed them dry.

Trey, the fat one, started walking toward her. Eagerness written over his sweaty face.

Evelyn didn’t break her rhythm. She rolled her hips slowly against Zeke, his cock still twitching inside her as he moaned softly, overstimulated but unwilling to stop.

She raised one finger once Trey was only a few paces away.

“It’s extra for two rounds,” she said, voice calm.

Trey hesitated, cock hard and pulsing.

Ivan laughed, still holding the camera, his other hand stroking himself lazily.

Trey looked over at him with a subtly pleading expression.

Ivan shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I already gave you the freebie.”

Evelyn tilted her head, giving Trey a soft, seductive smile.

“Come on,” she said sweetly. “I’ll even give you a discount.”

Her voice dropped into that honeyed place between seduction and cruelty. Fortunately, Trey already knew the game. Which meant there wouldn’t be much of a fight. He sighed, still stroking himself.

"How much?”

Evelyn had already gauged him. The second-hand Rolex and worn designer shoes. The slight whine in his tone. Trey wasn’t poor. But he wasn’t like Ivan, either.

“Three thousand,” she said flatly.

“Fuck that,” he muttered.

Evelyn didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she leaned back into Zeke, her arm curling behind her to cradle his head as her hips kept moving. Her fingernails trailed gently down his cheek. Zeke whimpered, his hands rising to cup her breasts. He squeezed, moaning like he was losing his mind.

She arched her back as she looked back at Trey.

“Come on. You’ll last longer the second time. It'll be worth it. You didn’t even get to fuck me cowgirl yet.”

Like clockwork, Trey sighed and fumbled for his phone.

“You have Venmo?” He asked.

Evelyn smiled.

“Go through my link page,” she said, dismounting Zeke with a slow, deliberate lift of her hips. He slipped out of her with a slick sound, a quiet whimper escaping his throat as he collapsed back into the couch, half-unconscious with pleasure.

She walked over to her duffel bag, hips swaying, ignoring the ache between her thighs as she reached for a towel. She dabbed herself clean while stealing a glance at Ivan. The camera remained fixed on her.

Trey’s phone chimed.

“Alright,” he said. “Sent.”

Evelyn checked her phone. The notification appeared almost instantly.

She locked it and turned.

"Ok," She said with a smile, letting Trey take her by the waist and guide her back toward the couches.

Ivan followed them, the camera never leaving her.

“Wow, your girl's pussy is worth three thousand. At least now you know,” he muttered with a dry smirk.

The words sliced across Evelyn's ears.

But she didn't flinch.

She mounted Trey in silence, her thighs straddling his lap as he latched onto her breasts hungrily. Evelyn avoided looking at the camera as she lowered herself onto him.

She had a job to finish. She was going to wring these men for all they were worth.

--

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