A stripper's tale

Dorothy Black stands under the lights with heavy tits swaying in a black lace bra. She pushes the straps down slow, lets the fabric fall away so her nipples catch the warm glow. Her thumbs hook into her thong next. One tug, then another, until the thin cloth slides between her thighs and drops to the floor. Naked now except for stockings and heels, she spreads her feet and slips two fingers over her clit. The motion grows slick fast. She circles, presses, rocks her hips to the rhythm in her head. A short gasp slips out when she pushes two fingers deep and curls them. Her free hand cups one breast, pinches the nipple hard enough to make her hiss. She leans against the pole behind her, spreads wider, fucks herself with steady strokes. Every few breaths she pulls out to rub her swollen clit again, coating it in her own shine. Her eyes stay half-lidded, focused on the empty seats like she’s giving each one a private turn. When the tension peaks she bites her lower lip, shakes, and comes with a low, broken moan that rattles in her chest. She keeps the fingers inside until the last pulse fades, then licks them clean with slow, lazy strokes of her tongue.