Show & Sell

Sure, I can see the woman is hot. She’s got class. Black long hair cascades down her naked back. Her tits look fleshy and adorned with soft pink nipples. Flat abdomen, and I’m sure her pussy is as good as the rest of her.

Strangely, though, I don’t feel the need to go over and fuck this beauty. Black Beauty. Her name should be Black Beauty, I decide, and make a mental note to raise this with Cam, my manager, later.

The new girl is not alone onstage. There are four others alongside her.

Two of them are now naked, with only their thongs still on, the one piece they usually keep on to collect their well-earned tip.

Black Beauty took hers off in that amazing backwards walkover. I wonder how she’ll collect her tips.

Seconds later, she tosses her tight black mini skirt into a small group of men huddled near the front.

Now I can see a thin gold belt around her waist, a belt soon holding numerous hundred-dollar bills.

“What brings you here today, boss?” Cam taps me on the shoulder.

I spin around. “Checking up on business.”

I don’t like it when people surprise me like this. My fist instinctively came up to my chin into a defensive position.

“Chill, man,” Cam laughs at my fist.

Fuck, if anyone scares me like that from behind, they’re taking their life into their own hands.

“How are things going?” I ask and look back at the dancing girls.

This new girl knows the most amazing moves. She seems to be super flexible, and right now, I can’t work out where her body begins, her legs and arms end, and her head is.

“You mean with the new girl?” Cam thrusts his chin in the direction of the dancer.

“She’s good, I can tell. She’ll pull the men in,” I say.

“Business is great. The figures for last month were stable, not high, not low. Nothing drastic to report. I don’t think we’re doing better than last year, but we’re also doing no worse.”

“Good,” I say casting my eyes in the direction of Black Beauty.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Normally, I’d be all over her. But something in it feels wrong, like I’d be betraying Aurora or my true goddamn feelings.

Even though this woman is awesome, my cock’s…I mean, my heart’s just not in it. Part of the reason may be that in my head, I keep comparing her to Aurora.

Aurora, who has milky white skin, perfect curves, gorgeous blue eyes, and angelic features.

Aurora, who is exquisitely delicate, unique, and otherworldly.

Aurora.

It’s fucking obvious. I’m obsessed with Aurora.

“I’ll be seeing you.” I turn away from the show. “There’s something I need to do.”

“Later,” Cam walks away and gives me a casual wave.

With large strides, I leave the club and head home. I’ve got something important on my mind.

Back in my penthouse, I take to the punching bag. It’s in the gym that I’ve outfitted with every manner of equipment essential to keeping up good health.

The punching bag is naturally my favorite feature. It comes in handy when I’ve got shit going on in my life. Right now, I need to it to vent and work up a fucking sweat.

Left jab, right jab, and left again. I go over and over, pounding my aggression and inner turmoil out on the bag. It becomes clear to me what the fuck I need to do, and yet I’m resisting.

I’m not the type to resist. I’m full of fucking action.

But I can’t do what I want. I promised my brothers. We all promised.

We promised not to go after Aurora. And yet I can’t stop thinking about her.

I want her. My fucking cock wants more.

Ever since that night, when we took her virginity, I haven’t been the same. I’ve increased my workouts and spent more hours at work, but nothing’s helped.

I’m like some lovesick puppy.

Only one way to fix it. Call her, fuck her, and get her out of my system. Easy. With any luck, my brothers will never know I broke the brotherhood bond.

What the fuck am I talking about? We hardly get along as it is.

Does it really matter if I go against my own word? They’ll never even know. I just need one more time with her to get her out of my system.

Sweat is pouring down my back and chest, and I stop. I’m breathing heavily and feel no better. The urge to punch someone is still surging through me like massive electric currents.

Instead of keeping on with my impromptu boxing session, I walk over to my desk. In the top drawer, I’ve got her phone number.

I doubt the others asked for it. I did, and I got it.

As I stare at the numbers, written by her, I feel my cock stir to life. I have to call her. I owe it to my cock.

Since fucking Aurora, my dick’s hasn’t been interested in any other pussy. It’s never gone this long between good fucks.