Went home. Jerked off. And proud of it.
Tuesday, January 28, 2020 8:17 PM
She was pretty. And she was down to fuck. She wasn't a stripper. Not tonight anyway. I was at one of my sleazy Pennsylvania clubs on a slow weeknight. She was in street clothes. There with a girlfriend. Also pretty. They're two seats down, and they wave me over. Why not?
She tells me she's going to be working here. She says she can't wait. I buy a round of shots. She puts her hand in my lap. We're drinking. She's working my prick down my pants leg.
She says she wishes she was dancing tonight. I say I wish she was dancing tonight. She asks whether I'd do a dance with her someday. She says she does it all. She'll suck my dick. Those are the words she chooses. She says she'll fuck. Anything I want, she says.
More drinks. She's playing with my zipper. Let's fuck, she says. Let's go and fuck. Come on. Let's fuck. Let's go.
No I said. Too good to be true, I thought. I'm good looking. I've got a great cock. Even if she's more interested in the size of my wallet than the size of my dick, this can't be right. Not the pay for play. Definitely not her good looks and good bod. The set-up. I'm being set up. Too easy. An easy mark.
The risk-reward ratio wasn't in my favor. Maybe a hundred or more was all she wanted. Maybe she really wanted to fuck. Maybe her boyfriend was waiting with a tire iron. I wasn't going to find out.
Back home, I looked for porn with a girl like her. Gave up quickly and knocked one out to a hot Latina. No regrets. A pretty girl, a stranger, was playing with my dick most of the night. Not bad at all.
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