The power to leave a man hard and desperate just by letting him watch her worship herself to a soundtrack was like a drug to her, intoxicating. So when she turned to slither down her pole and met his eyes, she was already wet. When she was on stage, the gazes she fueled her performance on were usually on her talented body…not direct eye contact. Turning her head to let her glossy auburn hair shield her face as she danced, she thought furiously. Does he know me from somewhere? Do I have a stalker or something? He was front row, tipping generously. The eyes that had gripped her so suddenly had been wide and blue, patient and calm in comparison to the panting gaze of the crowd.

Dropping low and rolling her hips, she glanced over her shoulder and boldly met his eyes again. A slow, mischievous smile appeared on his face, a smile that simply said, Gotcha. It was correct; she had no desire to look away. In her experience, not a word actually need be said to be fucking filthy for someone, and her new eye fuck buddy knew it too. Her damp skin pebbled with goosebumps even in the heat. Her nipples were taut and hard. Even when she helplessly felt sticky warmth on her inner thighs, she didn’t look away.

As her song crashed to an end and she turned to step offstage, he looked pointedly towards the back of the bar and then got up swiftly. By the time she was free of the crowd, all she could see was his leather clad back disappearing around the corner to the restrooms. Don’t look too eager, don’t hurry, she thought to herself as she followed him. She stepped through the swinging door into the white tiled restroom and jumped when the stall door to her left bumped open. He was waiting, with that same smug grin, and his jeans unbuttoned.

The arrogance was almost eye-roll worthy, but the cock proudly jutting from his fly was not. The delicious shiver down her spine making up her mind, she strode into the stall into his waiting hands. Slamming the door behind her with one, he pulled her thong down in one swift movement with the other. She pushed him back against the wall where he sat, their tongues tangling. Lifting her ass with both hands, he brought her down hard, impaling her in one thrust. Her gasping echoed off the tiles and her eyes widened. She pulled her creamy thighs high and wide and she begged him with her eyes. Ever the silent conversationalist, he understood and gripped her with both hands.

Burying his long fingers in her hips and holding her up just a bit, he pounded her from below. The only sounds in the room were her moaning, the rattle of the metal stall walls and the barely audible swish of the swinging doors as a few people hurriedly changed their minds and abandoned their bathroom trip. He wrapped his arm around her waist and stood up abruptly, nailing her to the stall wall. Long stocking-clad legs wrapped high on his waist, she reached up to brace herself on the wall behind her. “Now,” she said, challenging him with her eyes, “finish giving me what you promised on stage”.

The smile back, his eyes dragged over her lush mouth, her pert tits, her glistening pussy lips split by his cock. Inch by inch, he slid wetly out of her body and paused to meet her eyes again. She wordlessly mouthed please. He drove forward hard and high, drilling her mercilessly into the wall until they came explosively together, her sweet juice trickling down his balls and thighs. After he set her down gently, he wordlessly bent down and picked up her discarded panties and handed them to her. He left her sitting bewildered on the back of the toilet, trying to catch her breath and fervently hoping she saw him in her crowd tomorrow tonight.