"Joanna Wylde - Survivals Price" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wylde Joanna)

the edge of the stage, hoping proximity would pique his interest. The woman before
him gyrated listlessly, and he tossed her a credit chit, hoping it might make her come
alive. It didn’t. She scooped it up without smiling. The music changed, and she stood,
bowing briefly to the crowd before walking off stage. He sighed, wondering if he’d end
up alone tonight after all. Bedding down someone like her would be more like
masturbating than having sex. He’d jacked off too much for one lifetime already. A new
woman sauntered out.

She caught his attention instantly.

She was tall, with long dark hair and dusky skin. She wore a spacer’s coverall,
although he’d never seen a spacer wear one that tight. Her lips were rounded and pouty,
and her breasts swelled like two plump fruits just waiting to be squeezed. His cock
leapt in response.

He wasn’t alone in his interest. Every man in the room perked up, and she smiled
seductively at all of them as she stuck one long, slender finger into her mouth and
sucked on it, apparently judging the crowd. Her face held a speculative look. He wanted
to know what was happening in her head, he thought suddenly. She seemed so much
more alive than the women around her.

She walked forward, swaying with the music, rubbing one hand up and down the
front of her coverall while still sucking delicately on the other. She was still fully
clothed, but there was something so incredibly sensuous, so dirty about the way she
touched herself that her motions held more eroticism than anything he’d seen on the
stage.

Her hips swiveled sensuously as she strutted down the runway. Here and there
poles pierced the floor, rising up to the ceiling, and occasionally she stopped rubbing
herself long enough to grab one, swinging her body around it as she moved. His breath
caught in his throat as she came to a stop near him, backing herself into the nearest pole
and rubbing against it with her ass as she slowly slid down to the floor. She crawled
forward on her hands and knees until she faced him directly. She pushed herself up on
her hands, thrusting her breasts toward him, then licked her lips, allowing her heated
gaze to trail across his face and down his body.

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His pants were suddenly far too
tight for this.

She blew him a kiss, then sprang back up to her feet and swung around the pole.

As she did so, she reached up and pulled apart the fasteners corralling her breasts in
the coverall. They swelled forward, barely contained by a red bustier. She turned away
from him, grasping the pole with both hands and rubbing up and down it. She leaned
back so far that her hair dangled against the floor. Her breasts pulled down out of the
bustier, and for a moment he glimpsed her areola peeking out. She pumped up and
down against the pole, her eyes closing in what appeared to be truly satisfying, personal
pleasure. The music pumped in time, and he felt himself growing warm. He’d never
seen anything so hot in his life.