Lap Dance Confessions

You were damned, you thought as you slid off the chair. Holding your hand, Beth Anne Riley led you off to the VIP rooms.

The VIP room was a small one. With one chair, a small table, and a couch with a small dance area. Beth Anne motions for you to sit on the chair, which you do.

You studied, young Miss Riley. In those heels, she was almost eye level with you. Her C-cup breasts stood out proudly with nary a hint of sag. You licked your lips, as the G-string she wore hid nothing, showing off her tight, hairless pussy. Being alone with the sexy teen was having an effect, as you saw Beth Anne's berry-colored nipples bead under your gaze.

"So Mr. Clarkson..." she awkwardly began.

Sitting back, you pull out 200 dollars, placing it on the table. Beth Anne's eyes widen in shock as she stares at the money.

"So Cherry, how is it I find one of my 18-year-old cheerleaders stripping in a place she can't legally enter till she's 21?" You ask.

She crossed her arms in front of her as she considered how to answer your question.

"Can I just give you a dance, Mr. Clarkson?" she asks you.

Pulling out another 100, you place it with the other two, remarking, "You'll be dancing alright, Cherry, but please answer the question."

Beth Anne closes her eyes, and coming to a decision, she opens them, telling you, "Make it another 100, please, and I'll tell you."

You smile, telling her, "Deal," as you add another 100 to the table.

"So my friend Kerries's uncle, Vito, got me a fake I.D. And he's kind of part owner of this place," she confessed.

Filing away the information, you say to the teen, "See, that wasn't so hard."

Beth Anne then reached for a remote, and thumbing a button, music started playing in the room.

The teen begins to sway back and forth before you, moving with the music. Arching her back, she thrust her breasts out; the nipples were thick erasers betraying her arousal.

"Customers are not allowed to touch the dancers." Beth Anne informed you as she leaned forward, raking her nipples across your chest.

"And if we do?" You ask hotly.

Spinning around, the teen squats, twerking her tight ass for you. Teasing you by almost, but not quite, sitting on your lap, she breathlessly replies, "If we don't like it, the bouncer will toss you out."

Breathing in deep, you could smell her arousal; this teen wanted to fuck. Taking a chance, you place your hands on her hips. Beth Anne gasps at your touch, freezing in place. With a gentle nudge you draw her onto your lap, wringing another gasp from the teen as she could feel just how big you were.

"You like this, don't you?" You whisper.

Beth Anne shakes her head, telling you with shuddered breaths, "No, this is... just a job."

Then the sexy teen starts to grind her hips against your erection.

"You're turned on by a man old enough to be your grandfather," you taunted the teen.

Shaking her head in denial, the sexy teen redoubled her efforts, grinding into your lap. If not for the sex you have had over the past week, you're sure you would have shot your load by now.

Beth Anne hadn't objected to your hands on her hips. In fact, judging by the tremors running through her, she wanted it.

An idea blossomed in your mind, sending your right hand up to cup her breast from behind.

"Oh FUCK, this is...." She cries out as she lies back across you.

With your thumb and forefinger, you twist the nipple like a radio dial.

"You could cut glass with your nipples," you tell the young girl.

Your hand now slid down to her g-string, finding it a sopping mess.

"Please...please," she moans out as you move the fabric aside and run your finger along her hairless slit.

"Such a needy little slut, aren't you?" you growl into her ear.

Beth Anne doesn't even think to deny it. Instead, her left hand, mirroring yours, attacks her left breast.

"You want to be fucked, like a whore, don't you?" You breathe into her ear.

"No, no, I… please," she moaned out, trembling with need.

"Take off the g-string," you roughly order.