Babylon - Part 3

Ivory strolls back into Babylon, his boots hitting the steps of the Kit Kat Club like he already owns half the sticky vinyl. The lights slap red across his face as he scans the sweaty crowd. The club's hostess, Miss Pussy, spots him—slides right up, all hips and sweet sin, runs a silk-gloved finger down his collar. “Fresh meat tonight?” she purrs. In two minutes flat she’s got him tucked into a corner booth, her knee shoved between his thighs, talking bold about the special she only shares in private. Ivory grins, watching every sway she gives him, and Miss Pussy grins right back—one sharp hook on his zipper and she’s already laughing at how fast his pupils blow. Before the next bass drop, she drags him through the swinging door to a lounge nobody else gets invited into, sits on the padded edge, legs wide enough to feel the chill against skin, and tells him to fuck her slow and greedy so the bass rattles through their ribs the whole time. Ivory slams into the wet heat of her and she laughs, nails scoring lines he already plans to kiss back open. Short growls in his ear become stutters, fierce pumping, and Miss Pussy cums first, silky slick gripping him all the way, pulse hammering the beat every which way until the boys on bass drop another heavy swirl and he fills her flush.