Okay haven't uploaded a new story in a while, but this story is going to be ending in 3 chapters I believe. And I have been sooooo obsessed with Doja Cat, streets that I thought it would be incredibly sexy to write a story about it. Hope you all enjoy.
Until Next Time,
Muse xOxO
Olivia eyes herself in the mirror. Her cotton pink hair contrasting against her copper skin. Her cherry lip gloss accenting her desirable lips. Her makeup is natural, she can see herself in it, which she's unsure is a good or bad thing.
"I can do this."
"You can do this. We can do this." Abby answers watching as Olivia fumbles in the mirror getting ready.
"I'm not a stripper." Olivia huffs as she pulls on her crystal thong in replace of her underwear.
"You are. Embrace it." Abby moves to sit beside her closest friend. Trying to give her the pep talk she needs.
"You have a nice ass. The guys are going to love it."
"Abby." Olivia huffs finishing the final touches on her makeup.
She looks over at Abby who's was wearing a dark green thong set. Her friend is ready for any challenge that comes her way, she can handle the swift turns without a problem.
Reaching for the shot glasses, Abby pours her and Olivia a shot of green apple vodka.
"Drink."
"We are working."
"You need to relax."
"Not like that."
"Listen, this is our job for the time being. Let's make the best of it. Let's just toast and consider this as one of the building blocks for our future."
"Cheers." Abby smiles as she throws her shot down with ease, nudging a reluctant Olivia to take hers.
Within a forced smile, Olivia throws the clear liquor down, grimacing as the alcohol burns down her throat but with it comes a sweet moment of calm.
/
The club is electric, the atmosphere is different from what she imagined, she was expecting loud blaring music she never listened to be played, women with barely their clothes on, men with large potbelly stomachs grumbling at the women, but it's not that. It's better. Theirs's a level of sophistication, class, that highlights the ambiance in the room. The women are professionals, the men appear to be respectful.
With neon blue and pink lights flashing around the building and the music vibrating beneath her feet, she surveys her surroundings. Men young and old catcall her from across the room, but she ignores their advances. She struts around the club, looking for something or someone to intrigue her. None of them are interesting enough to gather her attention or worthy of dance from her. But she has a job she has to fulfill, and with it bills that must be paid.
"How about a dance?" She eyes the tall green-eyed man. He's good-looking wearing a black shirt and blue jean pants, yet cocky enough to interest her.
"You are going to dance for me?" Olivia asked with a cheeky smile
He smiles as he leans in closer to her at the bar "I was hoping you would be dancing for me."
Olivia smiles, laughing at his lame pick-up line. "And why would I do that?"
The man whispers in her ear "I am a powerful man, I would pay you generously."
Olivia eye's flicker with interest.
"Fix my shoe strap." She demands and without question, he falls on his knees and plays with the strap of her six-inch stiletto heel. He caresses her ankles before reaching higher up.
"Get up." A voice commands as he bellows to the man on his knees.
Her breath ceases at the man standing in front of her. His icy blue eyes managing to freeze her in that exact spot without even a breath managing to escape. He's wearing a black suit and white button-down shirt, he looks rich, filthy rich, his outfit is simple yet sexy.
"I like him there." Olivia manages to speak up.
The mysterious man eyes Olivia up and down before walking away with his lackey following close behind.
Olivia doesn't say anything after the interaction but she's unnerved by the mysterious man.
"How's it going?" Abby asked in the women's changing room/bathroom
"Ok."
"Just ok? I saw the guys and women eyeing you up and down! They want you."
"I'm not here to be wanted or desired. Just do my job."
"Well, you are doing it well." Abby huffs with a laugh at her rather boring friend.
"So are you." Olivia says with a smile finally. "anything?"
"Little stuff here and thing, but nothing big. How about you?"
Olivia eyes herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup " I think I have something."
"That's awesome!" Abby exclaims elatedly
"Will see," Olivia answers coyly
"Shot?" Abby raises her eyebrow.
Thinking about the man she encountered earlier, a chill grazes down her back "a shot." She agrees.
/
There was a commotion in the club, nothing a normal spectator would catch but for her, she can see the talk. How the boss of the club talks with the lackey she was flirting with earlier, she's unsure who's telling who what to do, but she assumes the guy she was with earlier talking to her boss is the one making the demands that he knows will be filled.
Feigning innocence she walks to her boss after the man walks away to another side of the club before giving her a lookup and down.
"What's going on?"
"You were requested for a private dance." The manager answers
"But I was told I would just walk around and give little dances here and there." Olivia isn't exactly a professional like these other girls who have been doing this for years, she's only a few weeks in.
"Well, tonight you will give a little dance to someone personally and alone."
The two walk around the club. As Olivia chases after the boss, desperate to listen to his words of advice.
"Listen, Honey, you are going to give this man whatever he wants. Don't be cute. Just do what you are trained to do."
"You make it seem like he's a part of the mob."
"He is the mob."
Her mouth is completely agape as she watches the manager walk away from her.
Who, requested her for a private dance? It must be the guy she was flirting with earlier.
She walks gently to the closed VIP area. She fidgets at the door, her heart beating a hundred beats per minute, at what may be waiting for her behind these guarded double doors. She sucks in a shaky breath, praying to the higher power above that she doesn't have to dance to the guy she encountered earlier, but his lackey.
A moment of clarity overcomes her, this is a job. Olivia is acting, pretending. This isn't permanent, but temporary. Olivia can do that. She can pretend, she can separate herself from this individual because what happens inside these double doors won't affect her. She's performing. With the pep talk, Olivia lets out an audible sigh of relief as the guards open and close the door behind her.
But as she turns her head to the lone chair sitting in front of her stage, she watches his cool unaffected gaze meeting hers, and she knows she is in trouble.
Olivia tries to settle the rumble in her stomach. She feels like she might throw up with nerves and odd excitement.
Trepidation nearly engulfs her at his mere presence overwhelming her senses. Her heart is beating so profoundly out of her chest that she feel it diminishing her sight and hearing. She's never been so scared yet intrigued. But she can't show that now, not if she wants to get this job, and she needs to get this job.
The music plays sensually in the background, and Olivia takes this as her cue to begin her show.
She walks to the pole, sensually wiping her damp hands on her thighs before spinning on the pole.
The jacket she was wearing falls to the ground and it's just her under the stage lights with him being the lone and thorough audience member. She hoists herself up onto the pole, holding her weight up with her thighs as she arches her spine. Flipping her head to the side her gaze reaches him, and she finds him letting out a large puff of smoke from his cigar as he watches her like a hawk.
His expression is incommunicable. He neither smiles nor frowns at her dancing, only keeping his eyes glued to hers.
She's curious about his lack of response, titillated by his calm composure. Wanting to capture him in a moment, she bends down and touches her toes, giving him an uninterrupted view of her. With the bend of her backside, his gaze too follows to her ass, admiring the round and firm ass as she touches her crystal heels. She tilts her hips from side to side, teasing him mercilessly, feeling somewhat brazen she slaps her ass for him.
His eyebrow raises at the surprising contact. Amazed that the little vixen was daring him to come on the stage and bend her over. If she wanted his attention, she has completely passed the test.
Looking back at the mysterious man she finds him no longer smoking his cigar but completely and utterly focused on her. He moves the slightest bit closer to her, not enough for her to notice but she has completely and unreservedly had him mesmerized.
Like you, like you
Like you, ooh
I found it hard to find someone like you
Like you, like you
Send your location, come through
The music playing in the background, enhances the experience, how his feet vibrate in sync with the music, how she gyrates her hips for him to come closer. Their eyes connect in the darkroom, neither threatening to look away. Her back connects with the pole, facing him she spreads her legs open for him to see her, sensually one of her hands reaches above her head while the other hand bends beside her. With ease and grace, she pulls herself up the narrow pole as she slithers and glides up and down the pole for his pleasure.
She smiles cheekily at him, while his expression is one of severity. Olivia swallows hard as she begins spinning on the pole and thankfully having a moment to look away from his all-seeing stare.
I can't sleep no more
In my head, we belong
And I can't be without you
Why can't I find no one like you?
Moving her body in harmony with the music, she closes her eyes and imagines dancing in the comfort of her house. She flips her hair as she twirls around the pole, her body and hips moving in congruence with the music. She can't deny how exhilarating it feels to dance so openly and being in control of her body and sexuality.
She studied dance in school, which she finds to be a benefit at this moment. Having only a few weeks to master pole dancing, she took the challenge and was victorious. The beat is so mesmerizing and erotic that Olivia can't help but open her eyes and dance for him, despite her disgust with having to do this performance, she wants to dance for him. She wants him to see her, to desire her.
She hasn't been wanted in so long, that's not true. She hasn't felt this before. It feels nice to be desired. Fancied in the sleaziest way.
Olivia's face heats up and she averts her eyes from his attentive gaze. To her surprise and shock, he has yet to move even the slightest bit, his eyes are solely trained on her own eyes, never breaking eye contact despite the awkward moments.
On the lone nightstand, sits an empty tumbler in his hand. His eyes are painfully glued to hers. With his focused expression, goosebumps begin covering her skin, his enigmatic stare leaves her slightly flushed and breathlessly.
Baby, we tried to fight it
We all been there some days
Thought I needed something else
And acted like I was okay
Climbing the top of the pole, she spins sensually down, her breathing hitches at his fiery gaze.
The tension between them is thick, heavy.
With labored breathing, she walks down the steps before standing in front of him. Timidly at first, she bends down near him, her ass so close to his face that she can feel his hot breath on her. Remembering her job she turns to face him.
His face, passive as always, gave nothing of his feelings. But his eyes, blazing with electricity that even Olivia feels the soft shock penetrating every nerve inside her. With her ass in his face, his eyes deviate to what's in front of him. She's so close to him that he can smell her essences on his face, and wonders if she tastes as sweet as she smells.
He clutches the glass as he fights the compulsion to grip her ass and fuck her right then and there. He downs the rest of his drink, needing something to soothe the burning but all it did was intensify the desire as he watches the siren kneel in front of him as she gyrates her hips in a seductive move. Bewitching him to touch her, to come close to her.
He licks his lips at the tease.
He sits erect at the performance, his interest far piqued by the mystical creature dancing in front of him. Standing in front of him, she locks eyes with him as she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her lace pink shorts, under his watchful eyes she slides the flimsy garment down her thighs and throws it on his lap, without batting an eye he catches the garment and smiles at the material before he sets sight on her barely their pink thong.
Like you, ooh
I found it hard to find someone like you
Like you, like you
Send your location, come through
What is it about this woman that has him so captivated? He's seen it all. Done it all. But theirs's a coyness to her, a subtleness to her mannerism. She's shy enough to interest him, but theirs's an arrogance to her that taunts him.
She smiles subtly as she looks up at him through hooded eyes.
He wants more than anything to wipe that smug look from her face, but he knows exactly how to stimulate a woman without sex, how to bring her to climax without touch. This vixen in front of him will become his.
Olivia straddles his lap and instinctively the man's hands want to go to her hips, but he refrains from touching her, refusing to give her the satisfaction she wants from him. Olivia's gaze shifts slightly with uncertainty about what to do next. Do all men act like him? That's a lie, she knows first-hand that none of the guys she knows to act like the man beneath her.
The mystery man remains impassive as always as she climbs his lap, her hands link themselves in his thick curly hair that is so soft. With his impassive eyes on her, she rolls her hips in small circles on his lap.
Her eyes twinkle with uncertainty, the man underneath her does nothing to confirm he likes her dance, he doesn't pay her, doesn't touch her, doesn't say a word. She's conflicted. Confused. She's not exactly certain how this all goes, but she knows it's supposed to be more than this. He should be more.
Olivia turns around no longer wanting to look at him, her back facing the elusive man she gyrates her hips up and down his growing appendage, and she smiles to herself. This man may act like he is not impressed but he wants her.
"Do you want me?" Olivia asks softly as she falls on his chest and begins slowly and painfully grinding on his hard member "it feels like you do." She whispers shyly this time looking back at the piercing blue eyes that tempt her to undo his pants.
"You don't talk?"
Still, he says nothing, only staring at Olivia, daring her.
"Am I turning you on?" Olivia asks again this time interlocking her hands with the mysterious man who remains frozen with both arms sitting on each armrest.
His breath tickles her face "am I " she whispers against his lips. She's so close to his lips she smells the bourbon on his breath. She pulls back to look at his expression. The man licks his lips but refuses to speak. She knows she should be careful with him, but she wants to torment him, and oddly enough she doesn't feel he would do anything that is not respectful.
Olivia slides down his body until she lands on her knees in front of him. Olivia smooth's her hands down his chest admiring his hard abs, settling both hands at the man's hips she squeezes them roughly, giving him enough friction for his dick to twitch and enough for her to see him grow harder at the contact. Using his hips she flips her body on his, each leg resting on each side of his head.
He smiles at her sinisterly.
The temptation is all too sweet to resist.
"What's your name?" his voice is rich, heavy with desire. He stares up at her.
"Honey." Olivia smiles
He licks his lips, still refusing to look at the vixen's cunt who is sitting on top of him.
"I didn't ask what your cunt taste like, I asked for your name."
"My cunt doesn't taste like honey," Olivia answers cheekily as she grinds her hips close to his face, so close that she can feel his hot breath on her.
"What does it taste like then?"
"Heaven."
He smiles at the answer, tempted to confirm the taste for himself. With ease, he lifts them from the chair as Olivia centers herself with his head.
"Should I sample this sweet fruit?" he asked, he is right there. All it would take is a nudge and she would be inside his mouth.
"You can't afford it."
He chuckles at the answers. He blows cool air at the vagina, watching as she fidgets from the cool air. He smiles to himself pleased to have received the reaction he wanted.
"Get down." He commands
"Help me down." She retorts
He shakes his head " You took yourself up there, so climb down."
Shocked at his lack of affection, Olivia begins sliding down his body until she connects with his rather large appendage.
Neither says a word, as Olivia slides off.
"What is your name?" he asked again this time, he pulls out a checkbook and pen and begins writing.
"Olivia…Price."
He hands her the folded check.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Olivia," he promises as he reaches down and grabs her underwear, coolly stuffing them inside his pocket.
She watches him walk out of the club with a group of men and the lackey she was flirting with earlier.
/
"You're done for the night."
"Excuse me?" Olivia asked confused
"Done."
"Why? I haven't done anything wrong."
"Boss's orders." The manager says
"I thought you were the boss?" Olivia asked
He laughs at the question "I wish. But the real boss gave orders."
"Which is what?"
"You dance for no one but him"
"And who's the…." Olivia stops talking at the realization that the man she gave a lap dance for, is the boss.
/
"How was your night?"
Olivia shrugs with indifference "it was ok."
"Okay!" Abby answers shocked
The girls walk out of the club together "yeah."
"Olivia, you found him."
"I know…" she says with a smile
"Well…"
"I danced for him and he said only a few words…."
"Your lying."
"I'm not," Olivia promises as they stop by their adjacent cars. "Abby, I danced for this intimidating guy. I am not a stripper but I gave him the best dance he could ask for, and he said nothing. He did nothing, he just sat there and watched."
"You seem disappointed." Abby acknowledges viewing Olivia's attitude towards the entire night.
"I'm not. I'm not a stripper. I am an FBI agent. I could care less about him. But I did get something out of the dance."
"What?"
"This," Olivia answers proudly.
"Holy shit!" Abby exclaims excitedly
"I know." Olivia smiles proudly to herself.
"Liv, that's ten thousand dollars. We don't even make that much in two months!"
"I know, but that's not what I am excited about."
"What?"
"His name."
Abby looks to Olivia with glee "you may be uncertain with what exactly he wants from you, but I can tell you. That the two of you are far from over."
"Yeah…I'm counting on that." Olivia answers.
In their respective cars. Olivia pulls out the check and smiles at the paper.
"It's nice to meet you, Fitzgerald Grant."