Measure for Measure

Travis shuffled into the dimly lit strip club, his cheeks already flushing under the neon glow as he clutched a drink he didn't really want. Across the room, Sasha caught his eye—an hourglass vision with curves that could stop traffic, her hips swaying like a challenge as she approached with a knowing smirk. "First time, handsome? You look like you're trying not to stare," she teased, her voice low and laced with wit. He mumbled something about just needing a break, but she laughed, sharp and inviting, before leading him straight to the VIP lounge without asking. "What do you like?" Travis ventured once the curtain closed, his shyness making the words stumble out. Sasha arched a brow, leaning in close. "Nine inches gets my full attention, but seven's my minimum—anything less and it's just foreplay for disappointment." Her hand slipped down his pants without warning, fingers wrapping around his hardening cock as she smiled wide. "Looks like someone doesn't measure up." Travis's face turned beet red, heat flooding his cheeks. "Yeah, well, most guys talk big but deliver small," she continued with a wicked grin, stroking him firmly now. "Bet you wouldn't even make it past the cheeks if we fucked doggystyle—my ass would swallow that six-inch cock whole." The air thickened with tension as she pumped faster, his cock throbbing hard in her grip while she whispered about her dripping pussy and how she'd never get wet for less. Travis panted, sweating under her touch, his body betraying him as he grew hornier with every witty jab. She kept the rhythm relentless, her strong hand working him until he couldn't hold back, his cum spilling hot and fast over her fingers in a shuddering release. "Pathetic and quick—my favorite combo," she purred, licking a drop from her thumb. But as she straightened, her eyes gleamed with unfinished promise.

What happens when she decides to teach him exactly how a real woman plays with shortcomings?