Chapter ３

On the railway bench, I thought of sobbing. Nope. No tears! Nope!

Paul

"I'm sure that had my father been here at this moment and he came to this because he was  especially fascinated by the nudes."

 I had eight stepmothers.  Each came to my home happily while leaving as they aged with money.

As I leave the stage, an elderly man adds, "Your father would be pleased." I don't know who he is,. I avoid all the leeches here. If I distance myself from my dad's smut realm and give them money, they'll allow me in. But if I break their rules, they'll abandon me.

I lmet Brooke on the stairs. Checking emails on his phone. Excellent lawyer. Top-notch. After my mom died and my dad began marrying, he raised me. Brooke made sure I didn't fall over the deep end when I moved out before college because I couldn't stand Dad living with four other women.  If Brooke wasn't there to pull me back when I strayed, I'd have a lot more than tattoos

Brooke responds, "Henry Greenwood left you two emails and a voicemail." "He still mentions the remainder of the strip clubs"

Great. Does this city's mafia own all the sex businesses? If no one else is at the table, I can't help selling to them.

"Nothing else?" I'm dumbfounded. When combined, strip clubs earn about $1 million a night.

When together, they cost $6 million a night, he claims.

He's right. Costly strippers. They're pricey. What a waste of money!

I left in a hurry.

 I've looked everywhere for the pole-dancing stripper.  

When does she work? I should have asked her name that night at the taxi.

The vehicle drives up to the strip club where I first saw the beautiful blonde lady 10 days ago. 

"Hey paul, you back!"

Loefel, the House Mom, greets me as I enter.

Loefel has long admired my fuckcock. She's the oldest here. A vet who sees females come and leave.

"Another girl tonight, Paul?" She asks, eyebrows raised.

"Another, but..."

  She's eyed me,  turns and exclaims, "Upstairs!"

The music is quieter upstairs.

So what? I pinch her behind and ass.

She coos, "I've waited a long time, Paul." "I expected you tonight. You're always here. You haven't dated since Sanaz and Kendel. I know why."

Voilà! She didn't want to fuck me.

"You're done with them, baby?" Asks Loefel. 

"You need a catch, don't you?" She inquires. 

"Where can I find her?" Loefel grins. She touches my crotch.

"Hold up!"

"What's up, honey?" Loefel grins. But I'm distracted.

"She's 5-foot-7 Blondes. Goddess physique. I last saw her ten days ago, when Sanaz and Kendel were around", I tell Loefel.

Loefel retreats, feigning disappointment.

Loefel seems dissatisfied, because she wanted to fuck me tonight, huh?

Loefel whispers, "Arcadia."

"She no longer works here," Loefel replies, "Ifan is Arcadia Lane's stage name. Keep my secret."

She began working atDreams last week

Bingo.

Thankfully, I haven't sold the house.

Tomorrow, I'm dropping by to find this girl.

I kiss Loefel.

I stop her from wanting more

"Thank you very much, Loefel," I exclaim as I run down the stairs.

Tomorrow's here!

It'll be a good day. It's palpable.

Arcadia

one week of taking calls and I've learnt a few things: never ask permission questions, never asked if they're married. So when the phone rings, I quickly shift into character. I drop my voice nearly to a whisper. I feel the lace of my braand then move my hands up my stockings.  I believe it should seem real, and donning the shoes and lingerie quickly puts me into character. I even turn down the lights. I find that the darker the room gets, the more I can concentrate on the voice on the other end of the line.

I answer the phone and settle back on my bed. I whisper in a sweet, sexy voice. . "Hi, this is Ifan . I'm talking to who?"

Man coughs."  Carl"

, "That's my favorite man's name." "You're gorgeous and powerful."

"  Thanks for calling. My neighbors' all-day sex has gotten me horny."

"A secret: I'm braless."

He says, "Is that right?" with a grin.

"I'm hot. It's unbearable. It's been a long day without sex. I'm so worked up and heated that I'm laying in front of a fan, making my nipples eret."  Karl, do you enjoy nips?"

I continue when he mumbles "mmm"

"What would you do to me?" he says conspiratorially.

"I'd kiss every inch of you, Karl. I'd start by nibbling on your ear playfully, then move my lips down your neck and touch your powerful chest—I can tell by your voice. I'd circle my tongue around your nipples."

"I'd let my lips creep farther down your body, my tongue lingering over your jeans' waistline. Even the salt on your skin makes me want more."

"Is your pussy wet?"

"You make me drenched. Your voice and physique turn me on, Karl. My pussy wants you. I'm horny."

" I'd unbutton your pants and touch your cock. I'd run both hands up and down your shaft until you were erect, then kiss it. First licking the tip, then gently bathing your manhood with my warm, moist tongue."

He says, "Mm hmm"

"Then what? I'd smooch your cock and swallow you. I'd gulp it down. Would you prefer a cock gag?"

I hear him breathing harder, so I keep talking.

"Do you enjoy when I suck your cock?

He whispers "Yes—mm hmm—more."

"Your cock is delicious. It's too much "I say, and he pulls away, skin smacking flesh.

"Karl, I want to ride your cock with my hot pussy. I need it. I'll straddle your lap, descend my pussy on your massive shaft, and breast-bomb you. Please eat my nipples."

Then I hear Karl's breathing, so I perform my own climax .

He asks for my phone number as his breathing calms.

" Please dial my four-digit number again in private."

He reluctantly agrees, and we hang up. I gaze towards the ceiling. I agree with Loefel. Stripping is worse. These calls let me utilize my imagination. You're on stage being judged; you can't hide it. During these calls, the other party must utilize their imaginations, which is excellent since it removes my previous routine: waxing, cosmetics, manicures, pedicures, etc.