Excuse yourself somehow and get in to the house ( we have been given a house separately to live in, she was talking about that house ). And make sure no body sees you, ok sweet heart ? I just nodded and still was scared. She went. And after sometime, I somehow escaped some pair of eyes and got in to the house. She was leaning against a wall and was looking at me. She was wearing a yellow coloured saree which was quite thin and transparent. She was looking hot. Her full hips and healthy curves were killing me. She was wearing the same coloured blouse. She was smiling at me.She then said, close the door and lock it. I obeyed. She started walking towards me and my eyes were just glued to her sexy hot voluptuous full body. Her saree was looking seductive. My erection was hurting me inside my pants. She came to me, pretty close and said, you like me, don’t you ? I said, no. She said, you liar, I can see how aroused you are. She caught my cock over my pants and started squeezing. My eyes. She figured she ought to be able to clear a $1,000 a week.That Saturday Vixen got out her fuck-me heels, fishnet stockings and her Victoria's Secret underwear and then put on a short tartan wraparound skirt and a pleated blouse and dark blue blazer and went to work. The club allowed bare breasts but insisted on at least a g-string bottom and that was how Vixen worked using a Neal Hefti CD for music, music that was often drowned out by the whistles and howls of the audience as she shed her clothes nonchalantly and moved her lush, young body willfully. It took her a good five minutes to doff her blouse, button by button, but her skirt disappeared in five seconds."Whirly Bird" got them going and "Cute" brought down the house with many patrons throwing wadded up tens and twenties up on the tiny stage as Vixen gyrated in her V-string and bare buttocks, her big breasts moving in time with the drums as she leaned forward, smiling and licking her lips as salaciously as she could, hands on.
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