Themis fiddled with the envelope in silence, staring at the stage without seeing anything on it. Having gone from cloud nine to rock bottom in the span of a few strangely sexual, very confusing minutes had been so abrupt it had given her emotional whiplash. Even the stripper, now done dancing and wiping sweat away with a towel, was not enough to cheer her up. She didn’t even notice the girl get down from the stage to pick her bra up from the couch next to her seat.
Her head snapped to the side, coming face to face with the stripper.
“Hi,” the girl said, smiling at her.
“Hello,” Themis grumbled, startled to have such a pretty stranger so close all of a sudden.
“That was some heavy shit she laid on you. I’m sorry.”
“You know you are not supposed to eavesdrop, right?”
“I didn’t hear anything. Cross my heart,” the girl said, following it up with the appropriate hand gesture which looked surprisingly erotic when performed over a bare breast. “I just assumed it was that kind of talk.”
Themis raised an eyebrow.
The girl laughed. “Come on, I’m pretty new to this too, you know. You think my boss didn’t give me one as well?”
“She did, huh?” Themis chuckled.
“Almost word for word.”
“I thought you weren’t eavesdropping.”
“I guess you’ll have to kill me.”
Themis snorted, cracking a grin before saying: “How about I buy you a drink instead?”
“Sorry hun, I got places to be after this. Though, if you are just looking for some quick fun I could help you out. As long as you promise not to touch.”
“I thought you had places to be.”
“After this. The song’s not over,” she said, gesturing at the speakers playing some cookie cutter trashy pop, straight from some “Strip Club Music Ten Hours” compilation.
“Well, alright then,” Themis said, leaning back against the couch and spreading her arms over the back.
The girl put her stuff down and danced her way to Themis, effortlessly swinging her body to the rhythm. The perky bits bounced wonderfully, and with her so close it didn’t take long for Themis to get worked up. Getting a slow twerk going, the girl slowly leaned in, placing both hands on Themis’ shoulders and climbing on her lap, one leg after the other. She avoided contact between their crotches for the moment, merely hovering over the biker as she pushed her tits to her face. She was so close, close enough for Themis to breathe in her scent.
She smelled like flowers, mixed with a healthy dose of sweat. Not the filthy, haven't-showered-in-a-week kind of sweat. The sexy pheromone-y turn-you-into-an-animal-in-bed one. She swung, bouncing her tits and spreading the intoxicating aroma around. Themis felt her cock stir, standing up without even being touched. She was down bad, of course. But the girl was seriously her type to elicit that kind of reaction out of her.
The stripper chuckled as she felt Themis’ erection come into contact with the thin fabric of her panties. Just as the momentary contact stoked the fire in Themis’ stomach the girl pushed against her and got on her feet dancing away. The song seemed to go on and on, the concept of time losing its meaning as Themis struggled against her primal instinct to jump the stripper, rip her panties with her teeth and take her six ways to Sunday. She barely managed to keep herself seated, her hands balled into fists so tight her knuckles went white, as the girl turned around and began to back up towards her. With practiced ease she touched Themis’ knees, pushing her legs apart. Braced against them, she bounced her ass in the air, planting dangerous images in the biker’s mind.
Themis wasn’t sure what it was that drew her to the girl so much. The obvious answer was the bodacious booty bouncing so close, yet so far out of reach. She couldn’t see the girl’s holes behind her panties, but it didn’t need much imagination to picture them off, and the girl bouncing on Themis’ cock instead. She wanted to grab it, to squeeze it and feel the flesh spill out between her fingers. She wanted to shove her face in it and keep it there till the second coming of Evel Knievel. To tear it apart like the Chiefs at the Super Bowl.
Yet the rest of her was just as intriguing. Her toned back muscles contorting like waves as she danced. The cleft of the small of her back as she arched her spine, sticking her rear out. Her tight legs, her teasing face, even her tiny tits. The way her bleached blonde hair spilled down her back, poised against her dark olive skin. The girl had Themis huffing and puffing before they even made contact. Only to bring their bodies together not two heartbeats later and drive her wild. The rough denim could not have been easy to grind on, yet the girl took the challenge in stride. She sat squarely on Themis’ crotch, pausing the hips swaying for a moment to bend backwards and tickle the biker with her hair.
Themis closed her eyes and groaned, the girl letting out an airy chuckle.
“That’s it, baby,” she said, feeling the biker’s cock inflate and throb. “Let me take care of you.”
Themis melted into the couch, throwing her head back and shutting her eyes. The image was still vivid in her head, burned against her retinas, but with her eyes closed everything else was turned up to eleven. The song playing in her ears, the girl’s scent warming up her throat, and when she started bucking her hips again Themis she was already on her way. She was scalding hot against Themis’ cock, even through three layers of fabric, as she swung left and right caressing her thighs in the meantime. Themis felt her pleasure rise, so good she didn’t even care she was about to cream her pants and become the club’s laughing stock for the week. The pangs of heat and numbness were spread in tow with the music, in the rhythm of the beat. As the instruments picked up, so did Themis’s arousal. Rubs and strokes, bring her closer and closer, until…