When a struggling Broadway talent agent reluctantly agrees to represent a male stripper, she finds out there's more to her new client than oiled abs.
Season 1 of Strip in the City
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Today might be the worst day of my life. I just lost my biggest c...
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I woke up with the most insane hard on of my life.
My face was buried in Maren's neck, and my arm was draped around her waist. Holding her smooth, warm stomach flush against my chest. Our legs tangled together.
Maren wiggled closer, and my epically hard dick slipped out of my boxers, pressing right up against the seam of her thong—which she insisted on sleeping in instead of the basketball shorts or boxers I'd offered her.
I swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe in her irresistible scent.
I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning because fuck that felt good.
Then she wiggled again, rubbing my cock against her wetness, and I knew this could not continue.
With a prayer to the almighty for strength, I untangled myself from a sleepy Maren and eased myself out of bed. Then I buttoned my boxers and tried to coax my dick back down.
I ran through the specifications of an SH-60S Seahawk helicopter. When that didn't work, I moved on to NAVAIR safety procedures. That wasn't doing the trick.
Maren rolled over, looking so gorgeous sprawled out on my bed. Red hair mussed. Lips parted. Her eyes fluttered open, and I realized I was flying in dangerous conditions.
"I'm cold," she complained. "Come back to bed."
She might be cold, but I was thermonuclear. A reactor ready to explode. Especially when her big blue eyes focused on the bulge in my boxers and lingered. She could see just how badly I wanted her. Hell, astronauts on the space station could see how badly I wanted her.
I grabbed the comforter and inched it towards her chin, covering her up. "You stay in bed. I've got to hit the gym. I'll be back with breakfast and coffee."
Yes, the gym would take my mind off...this problem.
When in doubt, I could always fall back on my morning routine.
"Fuck the gym." Maren flung open the covers, giving me a full view of the triangle of her thong and the curve of her tits—which were nearly spilling out of the little tank top she had on. "You could skip a day and be perfectly fine. Your body is insane."
I wanted to fuck something, but it wasn't the gym. This was not helping my current boner situation. Not at all.
"If I skip a day, it throws off the whole schedule, and I'll have to do a double workout tomorrow."
Maren shook the covers, and I swore one of her tits was going to pop right out of that tank top. Her hard nipples snagging on an inch of lace. "Five minutes, West. Please."
The way she said my name—like she really wanted me back in bed—made my cock twitch. My gaze settled on that black triangle of fabric. I wanted to slide it to the side and touch her until she gasped my name. No, I wanted to touch her until she screamed it. West! Yes! West, harder! Over and over until I had her cumming all over my cock.
