Obviously it's a stripper

Sam sat in the private VIP room for all of two minutes, though his heart was racing so hard it felt like much longer, when the door opened and a lithe young blonde woman sauntered in. She must have been no more than 21, with a heart-shaped face, framed by shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, large, perky, likely fake tits, toned but soft abs, and long, athletic legs. She was already completely topless, wearing only a silvery, sparkly thong and matching heels.

Sam stiffened his back as she walked around his chair, her fingers brushing her shoulder, even as he felt his cock immediately spring to life.

"I, um..." he began to stammer, but she just smiled at him.

"Hey hunk," she breathed, "I understand you need to take your mind off things."

He couldn't believe his heart could pump any harder, but all the blood was rushing to his dick. He didn't dare speak for fear that it would ruin the spell.

"I'm Candy," she smiled. The music was thumping in the room, and she bent over, sliding her ass onto his thigh as she began to gyrate to the music and give him his lap dance. "And you are?"

"Sam," he whispered, barely able to get the words out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam," she turned around to face him, straddling him and rubbing her taut frame against him. She slid her hand over his and picked it up. "The normal rule in our club is that I'm allowed to touch you, but you are not allowed to touch me."

Sam nodded, to show that he understood, his mouth dry with desire.

"But..." she paused, "there are exceptions, and your friend is one of them... which makes you an exception, too." She took his hand and place it on her ample tit. He felt the hard nub of her pink nipple and groaned. Without thinking about it, he felt his hips thrust upward toward her, his pants barely containing his aching dick.

Candy gasped in surprise. "What do you have hiding here?" she asked as she continued to gyrate against him, dry humping through his straining slacks.