Destroying Beauty

I finished whispering to the woman by the wall then sat down in the chair that faced her.

She looked over her shoulder at me. Winked. Cocked her hip, parted her legs and bent over, dragging her stilettoed nails from her ankles to her ass. Clicking, snagging and tearing caught my ears. I watched ladders appear in black nylon, red lines appearing on her skin, looking almost bloody under the red lighting in the seedy room we were holed up in.

My cock kicked behind my zipper.

I shifted in my chair, leaning back, parting my legs wide. She might take me up on the offer, she might not. All that had been paid for was a dance, but sometimes I got lucky. The ones that glanced down and clocked the bulge in my jeans were usually the ones who asked me to lower my zip. Just so they could have a peek, of course. Some of them wanted to touch it, others wanted to taste it, and a few had climbed aboard to fuck it.

This one was looking, right now.

She bit her lip, running her hands slowly up and down her body. The hook on the front of her bra disengaged and I was faced with slightly uneven, heavy tits. She jiggled them for me. I licked my lips. I’d slide further down my seat in a minute, making the invitation unmistakable, but first I needed her to look the part.

All that blonde hair she had piled on top of her head was stained red under the lights. She unpinned it, rifling her hands through it, pulling, matting it into nasty looking clumps.

My hips started to rise and fall as I watched her scratch her skin. Slapping it, reddening it. When she met my gaze I stared intently. Her eyes had an evil orange glow in this lighting. They watered, then suddenly tears poured forth. Black streaks branched out down her cheeks. She raised her hand, but not to wipe them away. Pressing the back against her mouth, she dragged it across her face, smearing her slutty red lipstick almost to her ear.

Ah, perfection ruined.

She looked like she’d just had the shit beaten out of her, and there wasn’t a sexier sight in the world. She approached of her own accord, unzipping me, pulling out my cock and rolling on a condom, straddling my hips and enveloping every throbbing inch of me in her tight wet cunt.

I wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t raise my hips to fuck her back. I’d just let her fuck me until she came, screaming. That way, when the manager puffed in and saw the state of her, we could honestly say I hadn’t laid a finger on her. He always wondered at that. Every time a destroyed beauty left the room, slapping something into his palm, he’d say, “How do you get them to do it?”

I’d just shrug and smile. I didn’t have to tell him shit. All he needed to know was, women came in looking to pay for a lap dance and left after paying me for a satisfying fuck. What I said to them to get them to do my work for me was my secret, and that’s exactly how it was going to stay.

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