Tyler Smalls made his way to the Pussy Cat with a plan. He had changed so much in the past two years that even he didn't recognize himself. He'd grown four inches in height (not to mention several in length and girth), put on a bit of weight, and his acne had cleared up. He'd become a fairly good looking, utterly confident young man. There was still evidence of the boy he had been in high school- popmarks, a bit of a hunched posture, and something in the eyes of anger or resentment, but he was confident that not one of the assholes he'd left behind at high school would recognize the man he had become.
High school had been hard on Tyler. His classmates had teased him, boys had bullied him, and girls had ignored him, but one girl, in particular, had outdone all the rest. Celia Grace, the hottest, most popular, meanest mean girl at Bellarmine Prep had made his life a living hell, giving him the nickname "nerdy needle dick," orchestrating elaborate embarrassments for the boy, chastising him in only the most public settings, and otherwise simply relishing in tormenting the young boy.
So when Tyler walked into the Pussy Cat stripclub, knowing Celia had been dancing there for the past few months (thanks social media), he had a plan of his own- to defile the young hot Celia, make her beg for his big dick, and make her understand what he had become.
Celia was the first thing he saw center stage. Beautiful long dark hair, big shinning Disney princess eyes, fat pouty lips; her face was absolutely gorgeous and yet sinister, a slutty expression that spoke volumes about her adoration of dick. Her body was also incredible- 5'6" tall, 115 lbs of fit lean tanned soft flesh, unbelievable 38D tits, a perky heart shaped well-rounded ass, and two thin lean legs. Her body said, yeah I work out, but most of this is god given. Despite what a complete cunt she had been to him, Tyler had jerked off about a gazillion times thinking about Celia Grace. The way she moved let everyone at the Pussy Cat know that she knew how to fuck and liked to get fucked- slow smooth gyrations, writhing twisting, thrusting motions. Tyler remembered that in high school she had been a dancer. It was clear that she was making great use of what she had learned.
The stage was littered with cash and men ogling her surrounded her adoringly. She was still clothed in a light translucent red negligee over a very itty bitty bikini. She probably could dance clothed and make more money than any girl in the place, Tyler thought to himself. As she began to strip slowly, Tyler saw her see him for the first time. He knew she would not recognize him, but he also knew that she would notice him. No one looked more like money in the place than Tyler. His suit cost 10,000 dollars, his shoes cost 5,000 dollars and his haircut cost more than any one else in the place's entire ensemble. He looked like he was made of money because he kind of was. His nerdy techy skills had made him a very rich young man- think hundred millionaire territory.
Tyler could feel himself being targeted by the young slutty beauty on stage, and step one of his plan was complete. He seated himself and watched Celia teasingly flash her unbelievable natural tits, primarily to him before she exited abruptly backstage. Predictably, five minutes later, Celia emerged from behind a billowy partition and walked directly up to Tyler, ignoring about a dozen other patrons who were clearly vying for her attention.
Tyler looked unsurprised and smiled her way as she approached, stopping in front of him.
"Why hello there," Celia said politely, hands on hips, oozing sexual confidence as she smiled at Tyler.
"Hello," Tyler replied slyly, lifting an eyebrow and taking a quick drink of bourbon.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Celia asked, pouting her thick lips and lifting an eyebrow in return.
"Quite," Tyler replied, "I was a little disappointed, however, at its abrupt conclusion."
"Oh?" Celia remarked a little defensively, "Well, perhaps we can arrange a more intimate sequel. I can do a private dance for you in the back if you'd like."
"And how much might that be?" Tyler replied nonchalantly.
"It doesn't look like money should be a concern of yours," Celia sparred, gesturing at the young man's ensemble, "Why don't you suggest a price?" Celia suggested.
"How does a thousand sound?" Tyler replied confidently.
"That sounds about right," Celia smiled, a little taken aback, lapdancing being typically around 100 dollars. "Follow me," Celia suggested, grasping Tyler's hand and walking seductively towards the back room.
Tyler found himself on a small leather couch in a small private room in front of a strip pole and the hottest woman he would ever see, and the meanest girl he had ever hated.
The song started, and Celia began dancing, moving her hips and rubbing her hands across her young beautiful body. Tyler's dick grew instantly hard in his pants. As the first song concluded, Celia dismounted the strip pole and approached Tyler.
"I guess it's time for me to start earning that thousand dollars, isn't it?" She questioned suggestively.
Her large 38D tits were pressed against his face, her tight round ass pressed firmly into his groin. She was beautiful, young- 20- and fit, with dark vague latin, Hawaiian, and Asian features, a beautiful bright smile, blue shining eyes. Her body was incredible big round tits, a tight fit body, and a firm round ass with perfect legs.
"I think it's only proper to know the name belonging to that hot ass writhing on my dick," Tyler said. She rolled her eyes. She was used to misogynistic assholes giving her lip, but she knew how to get tips, too.
"Celia," she said, pressing hard into his iron hard dick that was tenting down his pant leg.
"I'm Tyler. How do you like what you're feeling?" Tyler asked suggestively.
In truth, Celia couldn't help but be impressed. His cock felt pretty big, fat and hard in his pants. Her pussy was getting wet as she ground hard into his groin. She never fooled around with patrons of the pussy cat. It was a rule. But...she loved big cocks. This one felt big.
She looked down at his groin. The large bulge tented down his pant leg and unconsciously she mentally measured the length and girth with her gaze.
"Fuck," She exhaled, muttering the reaction almost imperceptibly to herself.
Tyler laughed. "How about a quick little handjob?" He asked, "C'mon, sweetie. I'll pay you good money for it. How about 1000 more. You make my dick so hard in these pants, baby. Just take it out, Celia."
"I don't know," She said, continuing her erotic lapdance and pressing her pussy ever firmer into Tyler's massive erection.
"I have a rule about that," Celia smiled and bit her lip, her beautiful face clearly expressing her internal conflict.
"Surely you can make an exception," Tyler laughed pressing his hips upwards to meet hers.
Tyler reached into his pocket and pulled out ten one hundred dollar bills. Almost unconsciously, Celia reached for them, placed the money on the table beside them, and slid from Tyler's lap slowly to the floor on her knees in front of Tyler. Tyler grinned widely. Celia's pouty lips parted, her large breasts heaving slightly at the naughty thought of what was about to happen. Her curiosity at the bulge had bested her better judgement.
Tyler looked down at the beautiful young woman about to jerk him off (and probably more), her bright shining eyes, clear tanned skin, bright smile, luscious long dark hair, and eager eroticism fueled by youth. She reached up exhaling deeply, eyes wide, unbuttoned his jeans, and unzipped his pants. Her dainty hand reached inside Tyler's jeans to find his bare flesh. He had gone commando. She raised an eyebrow at the thought of this patron's intentions, and her eyes bulged as her dainty fingers encircled a thick hard pipe of flesh. Her hand struggled to grasp the thick piece of meat. She pulled it out of its denim prison, and Celia's eyes could not betray her most perverted thoughts. A huge, hard, long and fat, veiny piece of meat stood proud and firm towering above Celia's gaze.
