Elena loved bad boys. She just never expected her brother to be on of them
The Dirty Dancer
Incest fantasies
I like bad boys. Most women do. We’re instinctively attracted to the alpha dog, you know? We want a daring man. A dangerous man. A man who takes what he wants and protects what is his. His children, his home, and his woman.
Usually in that order.
It's an imperative evolution hard-wired into us. That’s why nice guys end up as Incels, and why we keep getting stuck in abusive relationships with assholes who treat us like pieces of meat. Even when we know we’re being abused we accept it because we value our home and our children more than we value ourselves. It's toxic and self-destructive, but it's who we are. We can’t help wanting the love and protection of a man capable of providing it. Even when they hurt us, we keep going back or picking another asshole just like the last one. We don’t have a choice, otherwise we wouldn't be choosing these Neanderthals.
The worst part is they’re right, in their own, stubborn, frustratingly masculine way. Mother Nature doesn't give a shit if we get respected or bitch-slapped by our men. That bitch just wants us knocked up by a man who will kill to protect his offspring. To her, we are just pieces of fuck-meat. And, when it comes right down to it, we know it. We just hate admitting it, especially to our men.
Yeah, I know. Some independent-type woman with her emasculated carpet-dwelling martini boy is screaming at me for being a stupid cunt with no self-respect. Hey, I get it. No offense, girlfriend. You do you.
But I'm not stupid. What I am is a hard-assed, tattooed, banger-chick with a clit-ring, a Catholic School education, and a master's degree in street pain.
I’m better educated than the fucking guys groping my ass at the club, that's for sure. Not that I mind. I've been a ho since I was younger than people want to hear and I know there are only two kinds of men. Those that tell me upfront they want to fuck me and those that don’t have the balls to admit it.
I prefer guys with enough balls to be men. Some prissy little bitches object to being treated like a ho but that's fucking dumb. We are just a piece of ass to them and I wouldn't want it any other way. After all, we are dealing with people who consider a Corona and a blow-job during the Super Bowl half-time show the best gift they ever got. And if you don't let him have your ass, he ain’t gonna be there when you need him.
Just saying, girlfriend.
And, since I'm ranting;
On any given day in the good old US, there are 2 million women making money in the sex trade, mostly in the sexually ripe ages of eighteen to thirty-five. That means one in every thirty-eight of us at those ages is selling our ass for cash.
Some walk the streets, giving five-minute, back alley blow jobs to married men whose wives stopped sucking dick a month after getting their precious diamond ring. Others are escorts who sell their over-priced pussy’s to fat rich guys in hotels for a high-class fuck. Others masturbate or fuck behind the safety of a camera for guys they will never see. But their work remains online forever.
Tens of thousands more strip for men in thousands of small clubs, taking off our clothes on lighted stages and rubbing our nude bodies on guys smelling of cigarettes and booze in darkened cubicles while never knowing who will be next to walk through our door.
No one talks about us and many of us don’t tell our family or friends what we’re doing for a living, but there’s a good chance you know one of us. And, once in a while, we find ourselves face to face, naked and intimately exposed to a friend, a brother, or even a father. It's simply inevitable.
So, girlfriend, tell me again how we ain't all a bunch of ho’s?
———
My first job as a stripper was back in the 1990s at a Deja Vu way outside of Los Angeles. It was a nice place, one where the police rarely checked on us so the morality laws were a fucking joke. It was a no-booze club, so we could dance fully nude on stage. With no panties hiding my snatch, I played with my pussy and rubbed my clit right in the guy's face. The catcalls and whistles turned me on so much I made a slutty spectacle of myself.
Between dances, I walked the floor, rubbing myself against the guys and milking them for tips and lap dances in the private booths. In return, they got to grope my ass and tits all fucking night. They paid me thick for the right to make me wet as the Nile. It made me hot enough to fuck a blind midget before my shift was even half over. Immersing myself in man-musk while grinding my ass on rock-hard cocks made my cunt drool and I didn't give a single rat's ass who they were or what they looked like.
I fucking loved it.
So, there I was, a five-foot, four, fun-sized piece of brown-skinned fuck meat with long brown hair wearing nothing on my ass but a tiny pair of white satin, butt floss panties and a gossamer-thin top that did nothing to hide my decently sized tits. And my nipples were perpetually hard while I was there and not because of the fucking A/C. I was walking rape-bait and I knew it.
Saturdays were always a madhouse. Guys got paid and made it rain, trying to get as much ass as they could. And while they almost never got fucked; they always got screwed by some teasing cunt. This particular night I’d spent an hour doing couch dances before my two-song set on stage. I made love to a brass pole to Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer while every other rod in the place throbbed for release. I was a sweaty, hot little Latina mess with my tits glistening under the harsh lights while spinning on that pole or laying on the stage with my knees spread and my hand fluttering over my cunt.
I couldn't even see the guys beyond the stage and I always got lost in the act, playing for their leering cheers and excited whistles. Damn, if that can't give a girl confidence in her ‘assets’ I never knew what could. I still smile thinking about it.
After my set, I got dressed, if you could call it that, and wandered through the crowd, brushing my boobs against the guys at the tables and offering my ass for a 10-dollar lap dance. After a few disappointing no’s, I came up behind a group of guys silhouetted by the blinding stage lights. Just before I reached them, a strong hand reached out, grabbing my arm.
I knew instantly this was not the usual brushing feel or playful ass-grab men constantly dared. It was a deliberate, aggressive touch and my defenses kicked in Immediately. He was too strong for me to pull away, so I turned on him, ready to claw his fucking face and call the bouncers when my breath caught in my throat.
“Aye, Cabron! What the fuck!”
The man holding my arm was tall and muscular, with a thick beard and a distinctive sleeve of tattoos on his arms. I recognized my brother instantly.
“Paco? Eras estupido?! What are you doing here?! You scared me!”
Paco laughed, flashing that cute ‘I got you’ smile. “I come here all the time. I’d ask you the same thing but I saw you on the stage. That was some dance, Elena. I really enjoyed it.”
“Oh, my God, I can't believe you saw that! Go! You can't be here! I can't do my job with my brother watching me!” I was ready to crawl under a rock or something and I just wanted him out of there.
“Why not? We both know what a freak you are. Why is this any different?’
“Callate, pendejo! Oh, my God, be quiet! This isn’t me doing it with someone else! I don't want you to see me like this! You need to go before you get me in trouble!” I looked around quickly to see if we’d been noticed but the guys around us never looked away from the dancer on the stage.
“Christ, Elena. Calm down. No one knows we’re related. Let me buy you a drink and we can talk.”
The house rule was a guy could buy me an overpriced Coke and I would sit close to him for fifteen or twenty minutes while he caressed my leg or back. It was arousing but nothing too intimate. I got a cut of the drink and I enjoyed it most of the time. Usually, I’d wait until the guy became aroused and then invite him upstairs for a long couch dance in the private rooms above the dance floor. That's where the real money was made.
Paco was clearly familiar with that practice. Handing the waitress a twenty he pulled out a chair for me right next to him. “Have a seat”, he said, gesturing to it with a playful smirk.
I was still angry but Paco was being so playful I couldn't stay mad for long. He was behaving himself so my fear of the club finding out I was sitting with my brother quickly faded. My job was safe again and I sat down with my arm on the back of his chair as I would with any other man.
I thought we were just gonna talk and so I was shocked when Paco slipped his hand on my inner thigh and slowly ran it up near my barely covered pussy.
He must have felt me jump and he leaned so close to me I could feel his breath hot on my cheek. “Just play the part, Elena. We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention, remember?”
I thought he was just screwing around again and glared back at him. The music was loud, killing our voices before they could leave the table. He was pushing me but there ain't no shame in my game so I decided to call his bluff. Spreading my thighs, I dared him to do more.
“I never knew you were such a perv, Paco. Does it get you all hard and bothered brushing your hand over your sister's cunt?” I fixed my eyes on him, daring him to up the ante. I was cool, you know? Confidant he'd back down, but he wasn't done with me yet.
“I know, sis, I can see your tits right through that top. You’ve got a hell of a rack there. It's very impressive for a tiny chick like you.”
I could feel my face getting red and I covered my tits, horrified that he was looking at them and even more embarrassed at how hard that was making my nipples. I’ve always been a sucker for strong guys and Paco’s hungry appreciation of my boobs was really confusing me!
He was like, danger close to me and his breath felt hot on my neck. His right hand was caressing my back and inching down to my ass. His left was high up in my crotch, pressing against my cunt and rubbing me softly through my panties. I was wet and hot and getting more so by the second. He was driving me crazy!
“Stop it”, Paco,” I told him with less conviction than I wanted. “You shouldn’t touch me like that. I’m your sister, remember?”
“Not right now, you aren’t. Right now, you are a stripper entertaining her guest. I paid for the drink so I own your ass.”
He was still flashing that playful smile but I knew he was trying to see how far he could go. ‘Fuck’, my mind screamed. I couldn't believe my brother was perving out on me like this! And then, with a bigger shock, I realized I was enjoying it. I’d started this shit and I wasn't gonna back down that easily.
“Okay, Paco. You want to perv out on me? Let’s see if you’ve got the cojones for it. Buy some private dances and then you really will own my ass. If not, I’ll go find a real man who will do it for you.”
I fully expected him to back down and my heart stuck in my throat when, without hesitation, he dropped a bunch of folded twenties on the table.
“Checkmate, Elena. Now, do you want to find out what I'm packing? Or would you rather go get one of those other guys?”
I gulped hard when his money hit the table! I couldn’t fucking believe he’d do that! I could still walk, of course, but I knew he'd spend the rest of the night at stage front, whooping and whistling at me until I either had him tossed out or left the club myself. And I was ready to do just that when he gave me that smug, ‘I got you’ look.
Now, some things between brothers and sisters will set one of them off even though anyone else could do the same exact shit and not get a reaction. That fucking look was one of those things. Paco was a master of those, ‘I got you’ moments and I realized that was what all this was about. He wanted to embarrass me into backing down and I wasn’t gonna let him fucking do it.
“Okay, pendajo,” I sneered. “You want to spend a week's pay to grope your little sister, fine with me!” I threw back my Coke, wishing it was a tequila, and stood up, holding my hand out to him. “All right then. Get up, cabron!
Let’s go! I bet you can’t even get hard for me!”
I was pissed enough to hit him and that fucked me up so badly I wasn’t thinking straight. I just knew I wasn’t gonna let him win.
But all that anger and bluster evaporated when Paco stood up and shoved that wad of cash in his pocket with one hand while taking mine with the other. “I’m already hard, Elena.” He whispered in my ear. “When we get up there, you’re gonna find that out for yourself.”
Holy shit! How the fuck did that happen? Now what the hell was I gonna do? My mind was spinning as I led him up the stairs, holding his hand and knowing he was staring at my ass.
The private rooms were small, with only a laid-back overstuffed chair and enough room for me to stand in front of it. The music from the club below was pumped in loud enough to make sure no one would overhear anything happening inside.
The only Security was a camera up in the corner that was supposedly being monitored by the club, but I knew for a fact most of the time nobody was watching the screens. The truth was this was the most dangerous place in the club for me, but the threat of being filmed was enough to keep even the craziest guys In check.
The truth was, we rarely had a problem in those booths. The lack of alcohol in the club was a big reason for that and a smart girl learned how to control these guys quickly or she didn’t stay on the job.
“It’s twenty bucks a song and you pay up before we start,” I told him after closing the paper-thin door.
Paco gave me a sideways look with an evil smile and handed me ten of his twenties. “That should settle the bill. Now, let’s see those tits.”
Shit! The songs were timed at three minutes each so he just bought my ass for a whole half hour. This was getting out of hand in a hurry and I knew he wasn’t gonna let me off the hook now. “Don’t be an asshole. Paco.” I told him as I put the money in my purse. “You know I can’t strip in here. You get me like I am or you can walk your ass back down the stairs.”
Paco didn’t say anything and sat down in the chair with his muscled arms over his head and his leg spread, waiting for me to climb up on top of him.
Fuck! I had to admit he was hot. The tattoos looked bad-ass on his arms but what really got me was the size of his cock. He was hard, hard as fuck, and I could see the outline of his long dick pressing against his jeans. It was fucked up as hell, but if this is what he wanted, I sure as hell wasn’t gonna back down. I leaned over him, sliding my legs against his thigh and reached down between us.
I felt as much as heard him gasp when my hand found his cock. It felt thick and hot, and I squeezed it as hard as I could, digging my nails into the denim jeans.
“Okay, Paco. You want to do this? I’m gonna make you pop in your jeans so you’ll have to walk out of here with cum dripping down your leg.”
“I'm gonna come all right,” he told me. “But it won’t be in my pants.”
His words sounded loud in my ears and my heart skipped a beat when he reached down and unbuttoned his Levi’s.
I froze, leaning over him with my hand's inches from his now exposed cock. I’ve seen this happen before I knew from experience that I was between him and the camera so even if anybody was watching, they couldn’t see what he’d done. I was in shock. I was also dripping wet and my self-control evaporated.
Gripping his cock, I give it a few slow, hard strokes. God, he was thick and so hard I couldn’t resist the idea of feeling it against my pussy. Climbing up on his lap, I pressed the underside of his cock against my panty-covered clit while wrapping my arms around his neck.
I could smell his musk and feel him throb under me. Paco held my ass, leading me, grinding me against him in a dry fuck that was driving me wild.
The music was blaring in my ears and my senses were filled with his scent. Grabbing his head, I buried his face in my boobs, pressing myself against him as hard as I could. All the while, he guided my hips, rubbing my cunt up and down the length of his raging hard cock.
It seemed our tempo was just increasing, moving faster to the music and harder against each other. The heat and pressure on my clit was pushing me towards the edge. I hung onto him, digging my nails into his back, hating what he was doing, and loving every second of it.
Then, just as my orgasm began to crest, Paco grabbed my hair, yanking my head back before kissing me hard, open-mouthed, and sucking my tongue into his.
That was it. At that moment, he was just a man, being what a man should be. My belly tightened and my thighs clenched as my orgasm exploded within me. I was trembling and quivering in his grip, moaning into his mouth as my pussy drenched my panties. I’m sure he could feel the heat on his cock, and his hand slipped under the butt floss of my panties and tickled the brown pucker of my ass.
I was lost at that point. A hot mess melted over his cock, sweaty and hot. I was just his bitch waiting to get fucked. So when he pushed my panties aside, I raised, waiting for him to lift his cock, and then sank over it, feeling it slide deep into me.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped into his ear with my arms wrapped around his neck as tightly as I could. I was holding on for dear life as he gripped my ass and lifted me, only to slam me back down on top of him.
Paco kissed me again, and I heard him growl in my throat. Somehow, he slid further down into the chair, and I began riding him, feeling his cock slide in and out of me, faster and harder until my breath came in short, hard gasps.
There was no thought of stopping, no concern about whether he would cum inside me. I knew already I would take his load because we were well past my stopping that.
The only thing that existed to me at that moment was his scent, the hard rock music, and the feeling of him fucking me, using my pussy, and making me his. As he neared his orgasm, he grabbed my hair again, holding my face inches from his and staring into my eyes as his cock exploded inside me.
I heard him grunt and felt his body quake. His cock throbbed and stabbed into me, and I knew he was flooding me with his cum. I realized then I was coming too, flooding my juices all over him.
I spent the next several songs laying on top of him feeling his flaccid cock laying against my inner thigh while he idly caressed my ass.
We didn’t speak about it then and haven’t spoken about it since, but it was the best sex I ever had.
I was wrong about the security as it turned out. We were being watched and I was later fired because they thought I was turning tricks. What could I say?
Even still, I have no regrets. Paco showed me he was a man and men do what men do. And I wouldn’t have them be any other way.