When the song ended, I expected him to stay in his seat, like all the others. But he surprised me. He was on his feet, moving towards the stage with a predatory grace. Before I knew it, he had his hands on me, pulling me off the stage and into a dark, secluded corner of the club. His lips crashed onto mine, hungry and demanding, and I melted into him, my body responding instantly.
I was moaning, rubbing against him, desperate to feel his cock, to have him inside me. He lifted me up effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding against him, feeling his hardness press against my soaked pussy. He thrust into me with a force that took my breath away, and I was in heaven. The sensation of being filled, of being stretched and claimed, was overwhelming.
He fucked me against the wall, our bodies slamming together with a raw, primal intensity. Our moans echoed off the walls of the strip club, a symphony of pleasure and desire. I could feel every inch of him, the way his cock pulsed inside me, the way his hips moved in a relentless rhythm. It was dirty, filthy, and I fucking loved it.
As he pounded into me, I could feel my orgasm building, a wave of pleasure threatening to consume me. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, my body shaking with the force of it. He grabbed my ass, squeezing and kneading, his fingers digging into my flesh, marking me as his.
“More, Daddy,” I begged, my voice a desperate whimper. “Fuck me harder. Make me cum.”
He obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more aggressive. I could feel his cock swelling inside me, his body tensing as he neared his own release. And then, with a final, powerful thrust, he came, filling me with his hot, sticky cum. I screamed, my own orgasm tearing through me, my body convulsing around his cock.
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