They wouldn't come here to this strip club only to witness me messing up again.I could tell Clint was angry. He had every right to be furious at me. I...was his queen. His first woman. And he still came. He still... wanted me. The men shouting at me, lusting after me, filled my pain, but it wouldn't last. The song would end. I would have to let another girl dance, slip backstage.Feel empty... I darted down the stage that thrust out into the crowd, a peninsula into a sea of hungry men. I jumped. She was ready to try her sweater tit wank experiment. They went into his bedroom; she told him to take his pants and shorts off and get on the bed on his back, propping himself up with some pillows. She got on the bed next to him, but slightly lower, leaning toward him.Her boyfriend cupped one of her soft tits and squeezed it gently. My wife watched her boob compress with each squeeze.She said, “Would you like to feel my tits with your dick?”While continuing to massage her sweater tit, he said,. More

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