Travis shuffled into the dimly lit strip club, his shyness pinning him to the bar like a secret he couldn't share. The music throbbed as his gaze caught her—an hourglass figure swaying with commanding grace, hips and curves that demanded attention.
She spotted him and cut through the crowd, her smile sharp. "You look lost, stranger. VIP room, now—my treat," she declared, gripping his wrist and steering him past the velvet ropes without debate.
Once alone, Travis cleared his throat. "What do you like?" he managed, cheeks already warm.
"Nine inches gets my full attention," she replied with a wicked laugh, "but seven's the bare minimum. Anything smaller and I'm bored before we start." Her hand slipped down his pants, fingers brushing his hard cock. "Looks like someone doesn't measure up," she purred, watching his face turn beet red.
"Six inches? Adorable, but not even worth a blowjob," she added, voice laced with teasing wit. "You wouldn't make it past the cheeks if we fucked doggystyle—my ass would eat you alive."
Her strong grip began stroking, making him horny fast. Travis started sweating and panting as she worked his cock, her pussy clearly wet and dripping from the power she held. "That's it, let it out," she taunted confidently.
He came hard, cum pulsing over her fingers in a rush she controlled completely. She wiped her hand with a smirk, already planning more. "Stick around—next time I might decide if you're worth keeping."
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