"Face Your Fears… Vegas Style!"
Small-town girl, Samantha Monroe heads to Las Vegas for a new and exciting life. But her ethical career path falls short in Sin City, and a proposition for "one night, one dance" at the Pole Position could give her the financial boost she needs to survive. If only she overcomes her sudden fear of big-city stage-fright.
Brady Buchanan, young, impressionable pro-footballer is in town and dragged to the Pole Position by his teammates. But watching the attractive woman onstage make a complete fool of herself is too much for even QB Buchanan to handle.
Brady may be the man to steer Samantha towards a fulfilling career, all the while facing her fears… and his fantasies.
Brady Buchanan sat among his football buddy teammates in the stuffy nightclub. Strip-club, Brady, your friends dragged you to a fucking sleazy girls-gone-wild joint you vowed never to attend. Sure, it was their week off. Time to let loose a little. But half these guys were married, with kids no less. What the hell were they thinking?
Bringing his bottle of beer to his lips Brady guzzled heavily, felt the icy-cold rush of potent brew scale his esophagus. It felt damn good going down. If he finished off the case, he'd be good and ready to sit with his eyes half-mast, his tongue hanging out and his dick soaring for the skies as the girls onstage degraded themselves for reasons unknown to him.
Fuck, he'd kill his little sister he ever found her in a place like this.
As the music to ' What's New Pussycat' started Brady almost choked on his beer. Raising a fist to his mouth he cleared his throat and watched as the woman appeared from behind the curtain, clad in full-body cat-suit. "Fuuuuuck me!" he drawled with disbelief.
His buddies cracked up laughing around him as he looked around and saw nudging and ribbing along the rows of fellow football players as the lady in black leather feline attire took the stage and awkwardly prowled the front row.
Brady cringed as she stumbled along in spiked stilettos, her legs gangly as she swayed her hips out of tune to the horrendous music. Brady half-seriously waited for Ashton to lunge from his hiding spot hollering, 'Punk'd'.
This had to be a dare.
As she clumsily made her way to the edge of the stage she began to unzip her suit. Her fingers were slow and hesitant. Yeah, it was a dare alright. Stupid lady. She managed to bare herself from collarbone to navel and shimmied two narrow shoulders from the tight leather.
Brady felt a pull in his crotch as the guys around him whooped and laughed hysterically as she exposed herself. Her tits were tiny, but her nipples were perfectly rounded tight little red balls of suction, er seduction. He coughed aloud, moved his lower body to a different position to shift his heavy sack and throbbing dick.
He tried to avert his discomfort by concentrating on her face and noticed she was actually quite beautiful. Her eyes were deep and brown, big circles of pure timidity. She looked on the verge of tears, as she locked sights on the rowdy bunch of football players laughing hysterically at her, but her mouth curved slightly as she attempted to swab a tongue across her upper lip. Brady felt his gut clench at the sexiness of the simple move. Her nose was short, cute. Her face, kinda wide and plain, but her eyes shone heavy and he felt, he didn't know what he felt exactly, but it was something jolting to his sensibilities.
The howling laughter of his teammates made him antsy to turn around and swat them, as she hopped from one leg to the next and discarded the suit altogether. Her hair was long and sleek down her back, wisps hung erotically over her shoulders and around her nipples. He berated himself for looking again.
Jesus Brady, she's a stripper, and not a very good one at that.
And why wasn't anyone stopping her? Surely she had gone far enough to satisfy a dare? He turned his head, angled his view around the room and saw a sea of unimpressed faces on the men who made up the majority of the customers.
Not able to take anymore he stood from his seat, ready to flee the floor. He took one final look her way and saw her tackle the pole. Her G-string was a tiny thread of material that caused his cock to sky-rocket. A hard liquid heat flooded his bloodstream and perspiration broke out of every pore he owned. Aww hell! He was sunk.