My Life As A Striptease Escort

I started off as a ballerina. Pretty boring, isn’t it? But, that’s what my parents wanted. As a teenager, I experimented with a lot of different styles, starting with polka, through hip-hop, all the way to belly dancing. When I started studying, I wanted to become more independent of my parents and get my own job, so just like all other girls, I became a waitress. I understood very quickly that waiting tables is not going to get me very far in life, but, as luck would have it, my university opened up a course on pole dancing at the same time. I went for the first free class purely out of curiosity, I didn’t expect to fall in love with it. Perhaps, that’s inadequate wording, I wasn’t in love with pole dancing, but with the whole genre of sensual dances. Before I knew it, I was applying for a job as an exotic dancer, regardless of my lack of experience. To my surprise, they hired me on the spot. It was like a jump-start for my career, I quickly climbed the figurative ladder and got myself a well-paying, and more importantly, satisfying job as a striptease escort.

As of today, I’ve been working here for six months, which may not seem like much, but during this period my whole world changed a lot. Every day, I’m actually happy to go to work, and all my clients love my dancing! The man, I was to see today, is one of my regulars and favourites at the same time. As per usual, we were meeting at a hotel.

“There’s my beautiful flower!” he smiled and opened his arms, greeting me.

He always called me his flower, maybe there was something to it, maybe not.

“Hi, Matt,” I accepted his embrace and kissed him on the freshly shaved cheek. 

The already forming short stubble hurt my lips, but I shivered, imaging the prickling in other places.

We went to the living room of the penthouse, I knew he was going to ask me to dance, and for that we needed more space than the small corridor. 

“So?” he asked, plopping down on the couch, “What has my little private exotic dancer planned for me today?”

“Something spicy,” i laughed, “You do like striptease, right?”

“Oh, definitely! As long as it’s done by my queen of dancing,” he laughed, but his quavering Adam’s apple showed me what he was really thinking of my idea. And he was dying to see it.

I connected my phone to the speakers and played salsa. The choreography was all my idea, and I hadn’t yet shown it to anyone. He was both blessed by being my first viewer and cursed by being the test object.

My routine started with typical salsa moves, after all, I needed to warm up. I could feel his eyes on my rounds hips, that were quickly and swiftly moving to the music. The, almost magical, hips movements were remnants of my days as an exotic dancer. I don’t regret the transition, but it’s nice to show off to someone sometimes.

The music changed to a more electronic version that I somehow managed to find in the depths of the internet. I started taking off my clothes, starting with my glitter top and skirt. Matt’s excitement, but also admiration, were so clearly visible, they were almost palpable in the air. He wanted me, he craved my body as only a man can want a woman – passionately, rapidly and without borders. I was impressed by his self-control, despite me moving seductively just inches away from him, he didn’t try to touch me.

My bra flew off my body next, the striptease was near the end. Now, my only cover was my underwear, and, to be frank, it wasn’t covering much. I wondered what Matt will want from me next. I could feel the sweat dripping off my body and my muscles getting more and more tense. A warm shower would be nice, but I was afraid it would subdue our arousal. 

My body decided for me, quicker than I was even able to register it. I dropped to my knees and unfastened Matt’s belt.

“My flower is getting impatient,” he smiled, but helped me pull down his jeans.

“I am, and you love it,” I spat, before taking his manhood deep inside my mouth.

My hips and arse were still moving to the music, when he started fucking my throat.

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