Paris France 1

Unpublished work © 2023 Mischievous Imagination. Use of the following material must be authorized by explicit written consent.

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Author's note :

- This tale is part of a series of standalone stories that recount the adventures of a lone traveler. They take place in cities all over the world.

- All the characters are over the age of 18 unless otherwise specified.

- My stories involve a lot of sex that isn't about phallic penetration, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

***

I stop. Stare. The neon lights blaze before my eyes in the cool night air. My breath mists in front of me as I look around. The streets are deserted apart from the bouncer, calmly smoking his cigarette. The quiet is eerie in such a large city; the cold has people huddled indoors. The bouncer nods my way. I hesitate still. I have always been curious but a part of me wonders if it is wrong. Is it? I look around, not sure what I expect to find and then brusquely make up my mind. I walk over to the door and wordlessly greet the bouncer.

"Have you been here before?" he asks me.

"No, this is my first time."

"All right, I just want to be clear: this establishment isn't a nightclub, it's a strip club..." he trails off as if the implications should be clear. I have no idea what to expect. "It's 20 euros to enter," he adds. I acquiesce and he opens the door for me.

In the dim lighting, the first thing I notice are the scarcely clad half-dozen women leaning against the bar. All of their eyes turn towards me and this only adds to my nervousness. I pay my entry, and am led past the bar to a room in the center of which thrones a stage with a pole bar. A sofa lines every inch of available wall and I see some corners are occupied by clients chatting with strippers. The hostess leads me to a free corner where I sit and order an obscenely overpriced soft drink. A speaker announces Ruby will be on stage in one minute. My drink arrives and before I really have time to get my bearings, I see a beautiful woman walk towards me. I barely have time to take her in as she sits down to start the small talk. Her wavy blond hair reaches past her neckline and stops just short of her black strapless bra. Her voice betrays the slightest accent and I'm pretty sure she's from an eastern European country. I try to keep the conversation going but am repeatedly distracted by Ruby's dance. She's very graceful and her dance seems effortless. She catches my eye, flashes me a dazzling smile from behind a curtain of jet black hair and, without breaking eye contact, slowly and sensually removes her bra. I realize I've just been asked a question and tear my eyes away from Ruby's perfect nipples, trying to refocus.

"Um, yes. I just moved here for a couple of months, I'm travelling around the world actually."

"All right, we've chatted a bit. Do you want to buy a private show or buy me a drink?"

The abruptness of the question takes me by surprise. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Ruby topless, squeezing the pole with her breasts while slowly sliding up and down. It does nothing to help me cope with the situation and all I can manage is a strangled, "Thank you but not right now."

"See you later then," she concludes as she stands up to walk back to the bar. You can tell she doesn't really believe it.

I take a deep breath and try to regain control of the situation as Ruby finishes her dance with a full front split, bouncing her ass up and down against the stage for good measure. I barely have time to take a sip from my drink before I hear a new voice.

"Hi, I'm Jess."

I turn towards the sound of the voice to see a tall blonde woman standing next to me. Like the rest of them, she is clad solely in undergarments with a light black silky jacket 'covering' her back. Her undergarments are red and, as she plops down next to me on the sofa, I immediately recognize her fair complexion and her accent as French. We chat for a bit, discussing how she has always been a dancer and she has moved to more and more sensual dances as time went by.

At one point she asks, "Is this your first time here then?"

"Yes it is."

"Let me explain how this works then. If you like a girl, you can buy a show. There is a table dance for forty euros. We do the same dance as on stage, so up to topless but right next to you. Other clients can see as well. Then there are private shows. You can choose an eight minute show at eighty euros. This one is a monologue, you can't touch the dancer. I dance for the pleasure of the eyes only and go all the way to a full nude for you. Or you can move up to a twenty minute show at 220 euros. This one is a conversation, you're allowed to touch me and I you. This one is the most intimate you can get. Then of course you can choose a longer show if you wish : thirty minutes, one hour, the concept stays the same, the conversation only lasts longer."

I look into her hazel eyes and am tempted, very tempted. But something holds me back and just as I'm about to answer, I hear the microphone announce that Jess will be on stage in one minute.

"Oh, that's me!" she smiles, puts her hand on my chest and softly adds, "Hold that thought," before getting up to dance.

The next conversation is an exercise in multitasking. Jess is clearly dancing mainly for my benefit with prolonged eye contact; repeatedly bending over to give me a full view of her cleavage or her scarcely clad ass. Man those red thongs look good on her, rising high above her waistline. She twirls and exposes small perky breasts while I struggle to keep another discussion going with the stripper that sat down next to me at the beginning of her dance.

But I'm getting the hang of the situation. As I politely refuse to purchase yet another show, I'm almost eager for the next conversation. It's very flattering to have the undivided attention of a beautiful woman. It's frustrating not to be able to enjoy the dances uninterrupted but, by that time, I had made up my mind to purchase a private show. If I was going to do this, I wanted the full experience. I take a sip of my drink and look up at the next woman walking my way. She has dark auburn curly hair reaching just below her shoulders; on which are strapped a beautifully laced pure white bra. It practically glows on her olive skin in the semi-darkness of the room. I have time to take in the matching white panties and of course the transparent high heels they all wear before she glides into the sofa next to me.

She pierces me with intense blue eyes and playfully says, "I hear you're new here; we're taking your virginity tonight!"

She's sitting slightly closer to me than the others were and has my undivided attention. I laugh and answer, "Yes you are. I take it this isn't new for you, is it? Dancing I mean. Not deflowering."

She smiles and answers, "Oh I dance regularly, I'm on a strip tour actually, staying a week in one club, then moving onto the next. When I'm tired of it, I go back home and relax. Then I start again."

"Wow, sounds like a demanding job. I didn't know you could dance in a club just for a week."

"Oh yeah, it's really easy actually, you just send them a couple of pictures and the dates you want to be there. We're entrepreneurs so there is no complicated contract to sign."

"You're entrepreneurs? So the money you make is only based on commissions when a client buys you a private dance?"

"Yes. That and when you buy us drinks."

"Oh interesting. Some nights must be pretty uneventful. Do you make good money?"

"Honestly yes, if you put a minimum of effort into it, you get a good paycheck. Either that or you're ugly."

I chuckle in surprise at the honesty of the comment.

She laughs nervously and quickly adds, "What about you, how's your job?"

"Oh I'm working a temporary job to finance my travels. I found a job in IT for a couple of months. It isn't a passion but it pays reasonably well and it's not a chore."

"Oh my father works in IT!"

"It is a common domain to work in these days."

"I don't know why I said that ... I probably shouldn't be talking about my father right now. I'm slipping-up quite a bit with you aren't I?"

"It's because I'm a likable person," I joke in return just as the speaker announces,

"In one minute, It's Lola's turn to delight you onstage."

Lola leans in even closer, "That's me. Think about those dances." She winks and gets up to walk onstage.

She doesn't touch the pole but turns towards me and lets her black silken jacket slowly drop to the floor. Then she's hypnotically undulating her hips, caressing her body with her hands... I know exactly who I want to dance with privately. She twirls on stage for me, stopping with her back to me so I get a full view of her magnificent ass. Then, without moving her feet, she turns her head towards me giving me a complementary view of her breasts. They are full and perfectly shaped. I'm captivated. She slowly bends down without bending her knees, making her back arch and her ass jut out. Then, she slowly comes down on all fours and turns to face me. I have a full view of her cleavage and I lean towards her as a voice pipes up.

"Hi I'm Rose."

I turn to Rose with a smile, swallowing my frustration. If only I could enjoy Lola's dance uninterrupted. But my multitasking isn't up to it and I politely concentrate on Rose, losing Lola's attention in the process. Lola's dance lasts two conversations and the second woman, a very cute young lady who I haven't done justice to by only half-heartedly participating in the conversation, ends up asking,

"So, has a girl stricken your fancy? Do you know whose dance you want?"

I nod and she must take my response for shyness because she adds, "Do you want me to bring her to you? Which one is it?"

"Um, I think I'd like to ask Lola for a dance."

She smiles and gets up, "Have fun then."

Lola has just finished putting her bra back on and is walking past my table when I beckon to her. "I think I'd like a private dance with you, if you're free."

"Sure, how long would you like me to dance?"

"I'll go for the shortest one. Eight minutes."

"Honestly, you should at least get the twenty minute one. It's a whole other experience."

Of course I should, you'll make more money, is definitely not what I said. Instead I went for a more cautious, "There's quite a price gap between the two."

She leans in and her eyes spell sincerity when she says, "Trust me, there's a huge performance and intimacy gap as well. The experience is not the same at all."

I'm torn. That's a lot of money but hell, I won't be doing this very often, if ever again, so I might as well. I hesitate a while and she adds playfully, "You think too much honey."

"Alright, I trust you, let's go for a full experience."

"Great, follow me."

That was the best decision I made all month, the next twenty minutes are pure bliss.

We walk to the bar where I pay for my dance. She leads me to a curtained off area where I find a sofa big enough to lie on. As she closes the curtains she gestures to the sofa and jokes, "It's a shame I'm not a masseuse."

Curtains closed, she turns her full attention onto me. Eyes ablaze, she walks sensually into my personal space.

Before she can start anything I ask, "Please remind me, am I allowed to touch you?"

"Yes you can touch me everywhere except in between the legs."

"Everywhere except... I can touch your breasts?" I ask unbelieving.

That devastating smile again. "Yes, some clients can't but you can," she confides with a wink.

I'm terribly flattered by that but my thoughts soon move on to other things as she starts to dance. She raises her arms above her head and begins a swaying motion with her hips, never breaking eye contact. She turns and bends over presenting me with a premium view of her backside. I reach out and lightly brush her skin. So soft. She drops into a squat and swirls around to rest each of her hands on my knees. Her head is level with my crotch and she jokes, "Someone is going to need a wank tonight."

"I don't think one is going to be enough." I reply honestly as she slowly rises, clearly honing in on my lips. She slides into my lap, straddling me and stops with her mouth mere inches from mine. I take a sharp intake and breathe, "It's taking everything I have not to kiss you right now."

"Good boy!" she purrs into my ear.

I can feel the heat of her breath on my neck. My hands lightly rest on her waist and I trail them up her body as she leans back to give me a better view of her cleavage. I notice a small beauty spot right between her breasts as my eyes roam all over her body, devouring every inch of her skin. She reaches back and unclasps her white bra. Then she takes a step back, turns around, hunches over slightly and has the bra slide to her hands. She nonchalantly throws it into my lap in a gesture that is sexy as fuck. I'm oblivious to everything but her. She turns around revealing her nipples to me. She starts moving towards me and grabs her breasts with her hands, squeezing them playfully together. I reach for her waist as she kneels on the sofa between my legs. My head is now level with her breasts and she rubs my face into her bosom. The silken touch of those breasts on my lips are maddeningly erotic. I want to kiss those nipples but I stop myself.

"You're such a good boy! I've never seen someone so well behaved. As a reward, you get to remove my panties," she alluringly says.

She steps away again and beckons me provocatively with her index. I reach out to grab either side of her panties and pull them down to reveal a perfectly shaved pussy. She pushes me back and slides back into my lap, naked this time. Her feet rest on the sofa next to my thighs and she arches her head back, bringing her breasts up towards me as she slides back to lay down. Her ass is pressing into my boner and the rest of her body is lying on the sofa, her face in a pool of auburn curls. I trail my fingers along her body, gently caressing her waist, stomach, breasts, shoulders... she turns around and I trail my finger down her back, onto her ass and down her legs.

"I like the way you touch me," she says

I'm surprised, pleased and flattered all in one quick succession. My eyes smoldering with arousal, I answer intensely. "I'll make sure I don't stop then!"

She turns around again and sits up; her face so close to mine I can smell the alcohol of her last drink on her breath.

"I desperately want to kiss you," I breathe.

"Tut, tut. You'll have to wait a bit longer," she gently chides, but without backing away. It's infuriating and sexy and I'm completely at her mercy. "My, my! You are such a good boy," she repeats.

"You have to stop saying that or I'll become a lot less well behaved."

She gets out of my lap and stands-up for a short dance out of arms reach. Her hands trail her body and I follow them avidly: through her hair, down her neck, squeezing her breast, lingering on a nipple. She steps closer, and, feeling bold I place my hands on her hips to gently kiss her stomach. She straddles me again and whispers, "I think you liked this." Then she grabs her breasts and brushes them against my face again. Only this time, emboldened by her previous comments, I plant a kiss on her left nipple.

"Look whose becoming naughty all of a sudden!"

"Well you keep telling me I'm too well behaved," I try to justify, embarrassed. "Tell me if I go too far."

"Oh, I'll stop you way before then," she responds, back in control.

She turns around, her hands on my knees, letting me caress her ass that's currently level with my face. I can't help myself, I kiss her left butt cheek. She sits down on my hard on and leans her head back onto my shoulder, showering my torso in dark curly hair. Her chest arched for my eyes to feast on.

"I have bad news honey, our twenty minutes are up."

I'm flabbergasted. I had, of course, completely lost track of time. She stands and begins putting her undergarments back on. I'm so blissfully happy, it takes a second to register that the dance is over. I stand and grab the black silken jacket to help her into it.

Once on, she looks down and chuckles. "It's on backwards."

"Well, I'm not fully operational yet," I retort.

"You can't be perfect," she soothes. "Those dances are my favorite. Thank you for being so respectful and caring."

"Thank you for being so generous. That was an amazing moment for me."

"I can't give you my number or personal Instagram but I have a professional Instagram if you want."

"Yes please!" I respond eagerly. I write down her stage name diligently after which she suggests.

"Do you want to grab a drink together?"

I'm still lightheaded and I've had quite enough adventure for one night so I respond. "No, I think I'll call it a night and head home."

As I walk out of that door, I'm thinking, 'that was sex in everything but the common definition of the term.' I'm on cloud nine. My only regret is that we haven't kissed. The moments her face was inches from my lips, her blue eyes boring into mine haunt my dreams for several nights onwards.

**********

It's been about 3 weeks since my little adventure and I regularly catch myself daydreaming about a small curtained off room. I shake my head and bite into my sandwich, popping open my Instagram to scroll through my feed. I see I've received a personal message and as I read it, my jaw drops and a half-munched piece of sandwich actually falls out of it into my lap. I ignore it completely.

Lola's sent me a picture of her, topless and winking at the camera. Below, the caption reads: 'I'm back in town next week if you're interested in a little follow-up session.'

I stare at the message for a long time, devouring her with my eyes. And an ache comes roaring through me. I can physically feel it, I don't understand how I can want to see someone this bad.

I have trouble concentrating all afternoon, unable to decide what I should answer. Another dance at the strip club with her will surely be delightful but I have a feeling it won't be enough. I want more.

After typing and retyping messages for an hour, I settle for the following, 'What a delightful message to receive on a Tuesday morning! I have a suggestion: I'll invite you to dinner. Before work, before you dance. And just so you know, I will not be going to the strip club with you after dinner. If you come, it's either because you want to spend time with me or because you want a free dinner. What do you say?'

After sending that message, my nerves are a mess. I check my phone compulsively, much more often than necessary. My hopes for an answer decrease as the days pass.

And then, one morning, I wake up to, "That's very sweet of you, I accept!"

I remember her suggestive gaze, the feel of her breasts on my lips, the way she threw that bra at me and I cum hard into my sheets.

We agree on a date, time and location.

I show up early in what I hope is a smart outfit, without being too uptight. I have deliberately chosen a rather chic restaurant. I want quality service tonight so I can concentrate on her.

"Hello handsome," I hear behind me.

I turn around and take a step back to admire the gorgeous woman standing in front of me. I realize I've never seen her dressed in anything other than undergarments. Today she wears a very elegant black dress with a slit cut into the side that reveals some leg at every step. The cut is unusual: slim but not too tight and she has one arm in a long sleeve while the other is completely bare.

"You're breathtaking," I sigh.

"Aww thank you!"

We move inside and settle at the table. We chat amiably for a while but then a silence carrying some weight announces a change in topic.

"I can't seem to figure you out. Most guys who want more ask for sex. You invite me to dinner on a night where you know it can't go any further. I have work." She says this forcefully, as if making absolutely certain I understand that that is not negotiable.