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Roxie moved away from him, dancing all the way to the stripper pole. She opened the glass doors and then shut them behind her again. Her back to him, she grabbed the cold metal pole with both hands and slowly rolled her hips in small circles, lowering her body until she was almost touching the floor, then getting back up slowly. She watched Eric watch her in the mirror, his hand over his thick organ, rubbing himself as she twirled around the pole on her heels. She turned to him and gave him a seductive look, licking her lips.
She heard him groan low in his throat, still touching himself. Roxie brought up one leg, displaying her flexibility, gently hooking the heel of her boot onto the side of her g-string, and very slowly pulled downwards on it, her back still to him, clasping the pole for balance. Her g-string fell to the floor at her feet and she kicked it away, arching her back and grinding close to the pole, running her hands over her breasts and ass, still staring at Eric’s reflection in the mirror. The sight of him intensified her desire to completely ravage him.
“Roxie,” Eric said huskily, and she finally twirled around the pole to face him. He gestured with his free hand, his finger crooked in a come-hither motion. She gave him a racy smile and stepped off the small platform, opening the glass doors and standing in front of him, now wearing only her boots.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he groaned, watching her kneel before him at the edge of the bed and taking his shaft in her hands, stroking him teasingly. Roxie was already excessively turned on, between the strip club, Eric’s vibrating motorcycle, the pole and watching him touch himself. She stared up at him with round eyes, slowly taking him between her lips. She felt his body go slack, relaxing under her knowledgeable touch.
She swirled her tongue around him, tasting the few drops of precum at the tip, feeling his fingers twist her hair as she buried him as far as she could to the back of her throat, almost choking on his massiveness, her need for him increasing exponentially. She shook her head from side to side with him still in her mouth, lazily trailing her tongue up and down his length. She felt his entire body stiffen and pulled back, slurping the excess saliva from his dick, her ruby lips pouting.
He grabbed her by the hair to hoist her up from the floor, and she responded by pushing him back on the bed, reaching towards the small care package the motel clerk had given them with the room key. She opened it, finding several condoms, a small tube of lube (unnecessary for now), a cock ring and desensitizing cream.
“Are you ready for me?” she asked, aligning her hips with his, rubbing her wet heat over his cock without taking him inside her. His fingers dug into her thighs, sliding down to her leather boots. He stared up at the ceiling, seeing her backside.
“Do your worst,” he challenged. She arched an eyebrow at his dare, ripping open the condom and rolling it easily onto his length, then guiding him inside of her. She moaned, feeling him stretch her, taking him in fully. She slid over him slowly, lubricated by her own juices.
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