FicWad

"Don't leave!"

"I have to go."

"Don't leave me... please..."

"I have to."

"No! You can just stay! I love you..."

For months and months now, she had constantly pleaded with him to stay with her, since he always went out. Except whenever he went out, he never went to his best friend Ryan's house, or back to work, as he always said. No, he went somewhere much worse and much more heartbreaking, and every time the words slipped out of her lips, it tore her up inside.

He was subject to going to an illegal strip club down the street.

She never knew why, nor had he ever told her why. And she didn't believe that he had a real reason for going to the strip club. He had always assumed to her that he was just returning to work for a late shift. He had always persuaded her that he was faithful to her and to her only. He had always assumed that he would be right back.

But she knew better.

She knew he was lying through his teeth. She knew he hadn't been making his annual Friday trips to work again. She knew that he was sneaking around behind her back, with God knows how many women.

And yet she couldn't help but feel guilty.

She somehow felt that she was driving him to do this. She felt as if she were pushing him away subconsciously. She felt as if she was starving him of the one thing he craved the most - his sexual urges.

She hadn't had sex with him in over half a year, and she had first noticed his emotional change when he became isolated from her. He seemed to be extremely satisfied with himself at one point, and she had asked what had happened, and he had given her a grin as response.

"No, don't go! Please, just stay. I promise I'll change!" She gripped onto his leather jacket, digging black nails into his arm. She could smell the sexy cologne, see the need in his facial expression, hear the annoyance in his voice. Yup, he was going out to the club. Again.

"Jade, I told you, if I don't go, I'll get fired." He glanced at her before grabbing his keys and jamming them in his jeans pocket.

"No, Brendon, don't go!" She began to cry, black tears streaming down her cheeks. She latched onto his white t-shirt with all her might, not wanting to let go.

"Don't do this to yourself, Jade." He mumbled, looking away in irritance. He glanced into the mirror, fixing his hair as it had begun to mess up, and blew a kiss to his reflection. He smirked. He looked so delicious.

She blinked dark green eyes at him, tangling her hand in her messy sapphire and cayenne hair. It was up in a loose bun and she was dressed completely in a tank top and rolled-up sweatpants.

"Don't leave me. I know where you go!" She grabbed onto him once again, pulling him back, as he began to walk away. She secretly slipped her engagement ring into his back jeans pocket; it was a silver ring with black diamonds embedded in the band that spelled out her name in fancy letters. "Every night you go out with your friends to those...illegal strip clubs down the street! I heard you and Ryan talking about it, Brendon!"

That was such an exaggeration. He only went on Fridays and Saturdays." You're being paranoid, babe." He shook his arm and loosened Jade's grasp.

"You're such a dirty liar!" Jade yelled at him in rage.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do! You don't fucking control me!"

An eery silence fell over the two of them.

Jade knew she had better stop. Things could only get worse from here.

But she was just confused. She had always been the one who understood him and really knew him when Kayla or whoever, didn't. And now he was sneaking around behind her back, at strip clubs? She could understand how much men like him love strippers, but she had attempted herself to be his personal stripper, multiple times. And yet he was still going. It hurt to know that he had no love for her at this point.

"I gotta go." He gave her a quick peck on the lips, leaving Jade distraught in her wake.

"Brendon..." She blinked back a wave of tears as she watched him sling open the door.

"And don't wait up for me." He growled and slammed the door behind him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He listened intently to the sandpaper-like tap tap tap of his worn-out Converse high-tops, scratching the pavement as he walked along past abandoned old cars parked in towing zones. It was dark, and he continued to throw rocks at the streetlights. Occasionally, the dim bulb would burst on impact and a shower of glass shards would ran down on him.

Brown eyes flicked towards the black windows and rooms of lone or idle buildings. He hummed to himself to pass time on the way to the club.

He noticed the bright lights of the obnoxious neon sign to the strip club, and he soon began jogging towards the entrance. The burly, tan-skinned bouncer waited with extreme temperance at the front door. He flashed the bouncer a quick nod, and the bouncer knocked on the door behind him. A small square in the door slid open, and a masked face greeted him. The bouncer gave the acquaintance a wink, and the square slid shut. Brendon proceeded to go inside.

Even the club was dark. It consisted of a long, wide, black hallway lined in gold, with multiple rooms on the sides, some labeled "Restrooms" and some labeled "Cafe" as this was partly a restaurant. At the end of the hallway was a set of heavy double-doors, with gold trim and an array of gold and copper swirls on the frame, that lead to an enormous stripper stage-area.

He ran up to the double-doors and knocked. A similar, slightly-larger square slid open and Brendon was met by yet another Masquerade face. He winked at the person, and the square slid shut, and the heavy doors opened.


The club was dark, as usual, with multiple colored lights shining on the stage in the middle of the room. Around the stage, were arranged tables and booths against the wall. The booths were sunken into the wall and framed by curtains, in case the user wanted the booth to be closed for privacy. Multiple men, probably around Brendon's age - 26 - swarmed around the stage and clouded the tables and filled the booths. A long bar in the far side was stocked with men drinking margaritas and some were making out with the strippers. But there were many strippers at this popular club, so a few strippers being occupied by intoxicated, horny men was no concern.

Brendon already knew what went on here; Every night the strippers would perform a show, like any other strip club, where they would tease themselves in front of eager men and dance for them, or give them lap dances. This club was best-known for its large array of strippers. Brendon could see them; the skinny, tall, model-like ones, the curvy normal-sized ones, the heavy-set ones with attractively-shapen bodies, the short ones, even some that had no curves whatsoever. Those were mainly just young women with flat stomachs and slim thighs, but no breasts. He made sure he stayed clear of those. They were always trying to rub up on him.

But he was attracted to one stripper in particular.

He did not know her name, he did not know her age, but that didn't matter to him. He knew she was young, gorgeous, sexy, and full of energy - energy that could definitely be used in the bedroom.

Every time he would come here, he would look for her. She was his favorite, and as was he to her. She was long and lean, just like he, with large, round breasts, an unusually slim waist, a flat toned stomach, and rounded hips. He loved seeing her prance around on stage like a cat, as it was a major turn-on to him. He would pay big bucks just to see her, any day.

But jealousy was not an emotion he had under control. He had been kicked out of the club numerous times before for getting into serious fist-fights over other men ogling his stripper. His stripper!

But he had managed to be the better person, this time.

She was his favorite.

Brendon pulled on a gold-and-ruby detailed mask and slipped off his leather jacket, and hung it on the back of a chair. He pulled the chair to the side of the table, so the front of the chair was to the stage - actually it was a front-row seat - and the back was against the table. He sat down contently, gazing around. Just a few feet from him were men stocking up tables and whooping at the stripper. Each time one of the girls would do a trick, one of the guys would cheer and toss a couple dollar bills at her feet.

Brendon whistled sharply at the bar, and instantly the bartender looked up. Brendon winked, and the bartender saluted him. He always got the same thing every time he was here - but on the rare occasion, he would try something different, but only if he were looking for a romantic night. Any other man would just get a beer or a shot of vodka, but although Brendon loved to get drunk and have the wildest nights, he loved a good daiquiri.

And this was mainly because they were her favorite drink, too.

He bobbed his head to the loud, blaring music, a wide smirk plastered on his face. A cluster of strippers trotted to the edge of the stage nearest Brendon and danced around each other, shimmying their hips to shake the row of feathers attached to the back of their thongs.

Then he saw her.

In all of her bronzed beauty, she stood out strikingly from the rest. From the cluster of thonged girls, she burst out into the open, whoops and screams arising from the wave of men gathering around the stage.

She was dressed in a flashy golden bra and thong set, with gold tassels all over them and a set of gold feathers with shiny blue, green, and pink streaks. Her bra was crisscrossed at the sides and pushed her breasts forward, nearly making them burst. Her thong was the same - crisscrossed at the sides, with the bright feathers attached to the back, and connector hooks on the fronts of her thighs running from her panties to her thigh-high, sheer, black-banded tights. She wore high gold stripper heels and her hair was curled. She had on a gold-detailed mask, similar to his, and so did the rest of the strippers, the masks the same color and shade of their lingerie.

Brendon bit his lip in desire. This was the best she had ever looked, and she'd been a stripper here for years.

When he saw her bend forward toward him, hook her finger in her mouth innocently, and let it slide down her breasts, he felt his pants tighten.

The other strippers dispersed, and began cloaking miscellaneous men in the audience. But she was still there.

On the long note to the song, she did a quick spin and laid on her back, and slowly outstretched her one leg to where it was actually touching her forehead! Then when the note was over, she sat back up and slinked off the edge of the stage towards him.

Brendon growled lowly as he saw her hunt him down, eyeing him hungrily, like a tiger ready to pounce.

She stood in front of him, and began to dance to the music. She would roll her hips in a circle, she would turn and smack her ass, earning her a low whistle or a groan.

"You from around here?" She asked seductively as she crawled onto his lap, as if she'd never seen him before. Her voice was actually high. Not screeching high, but it was on a high decibel, as if her voice just HAD to be heard by everyone she knew.

"Up the street." He murmured in response, smirking at their position on the chair and the envy of the many other men.

"You want to go home with me tonight, big boy?" She ran her manicured fingers up his thigh, stopping dangerously close to his groin.

"That depends." He responded huskily. "You seem to want to be in my bed all the time."

"There's no bed here." She sat on his lap, perfectly aligned with his erection. "I guess we'll have to break the chair, instead." She whispered, moving her face closer to bite his lower lip.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $100 bill, and handed it to her. "For tonight." He said with a quick wink.

She smirked at him, big, dark doe eyes glimmering. She took the bill from his hands and rubbed it up and down her chest, moaning out as she did so.

Brendon gripped onto her lower back and watched her intently, eyes slightly bulging, as she pressed the bill to her breasts and gasped, as she trailed it town her stomach and slowly rubbed it on her virgin boundaries.

"Oh..." He whimpered quietly as she rolled her hips on his upper thighs, grabbing his hands and placing them on her butt. He quickly took the opportunity to grope each cheek, occasionally pulling her forward, pressing her against him. But she only smirked at him, a smirk full of evil intent, and full of play.

She stood, and hooked her thumbs under the top rim of her thong. His eyes trailed to her pelvis, and he noticed how the gold fabric was being pulled. She pulled it down to expose her pelvis, but did not expose her innocence.

She slung her legs off his lap and stood up. She looked down at him and curled her finger towards him, and he got up, as ordered.

"Let's take this somewhere more...private." She purred the word, rolling it off her tongue and letting it infect him with want. She hooked her fingers in his shirt collar and pulled gently, dragging him towards an empty booth.

Brendon watched as every time she stepped, her hips would sway back and forth, making the feathers shake. She would even put her hand on her hip and make it roll back as it swayed, knowing very well he was watching.

She kicked aside the curtain, planting her heel on the booth seat. She glanced back at Brendon, who stood with a smirk and hands in his pockets. She noticed how he hadn't taken his eyes off her ass since they started walking.

"You like this, don't you?" She quickly spun around, back pressed against the thin tabletop and heel still on the seat. She ran one hand on the inside of her thigh and let it caress the sensitive skin. Her other hand ran down her neck and rubbed her nipple in tight circles.

He licked his lips in response, eyes glued to her bronzed thighs and gold-covered crotch.

She bit her bottom lip, smirking all the while, and lightly rubbed her crotch with both hands, making sure he was watching as her fingers flexed ever so slowly, as she pressed down on her vagina and moaned out.

"D-Damn.." He stuttered, unsure of how to speak for a moment.

With a grin, she spun around towards the table, got down on her knees, played with the latches on the bottom of the table where it met the floor, and lifted the table up. It was a pretty small table, so she couldn't have had that much trouble, but he never knew that tables were able to be taken out of the ground.

She tossed the table into the crowd of horny men circling the stage and other strippers. She curled her finger towards herself once again.

Brendon smirked at her and sat down on the wide booth seat, legs open and back slouched.

"No touching." She waved her finger, eyes glued to the large bulge in the seam of his pants.

He nodded in understanding, chocolate brown eyes glazed over with lust and need.

She stood against the seat, and reached behind her to plant her hands on his upper thighs. Brendon let out a lustful sigh. Her hands were so close to his arousal that he just wanted to grab them and make her tug on his erection. But damn it, this joint didn't allow that.

He watched as she lowered her round ass towards his groin, making sexy circles with it, and finally began to grind the crotch of his jeans.

Brendon tossed his head back and dug his nails into the padded seat, trying so hard to restrict himself. Her grinds became quicker, and he couldn't help but moan. He felt so weak, so womanly for moaning, but dammit, having a boner the size of a football rubbing against your jeans isn't exactly comfortable.

She quickly took notice of this and turned around, standing back up. She eagerly pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it outside the curtain, and her mouth dropped open slightly. He was toned, with a set of strong abdominal muscles and a sexy happy trail that lead into the waistband of his boxers.

He chuckled softly, and suddenly she swooped down, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them down to his knees, letting his erection spring free under his boxers. It was then that she saw how truly aroused he was. The crotch of his boxers was standing straight up.

Her heart fluttered for a minute, but she pushed that note aside and sat pressed against his manhood, legs wide open.

"P-please..." Brendon begged. She suddenly felt bad that she was not allowed to see him naked. Her boss forbid it. If she had been allowed to, this wouldn't be a strip joint, it would be a porno house. She was only allowed to tease.

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed." She replied nicely, frowning. "It'll have to wait."

With that, she lunged forward, pressing her lips against his. He sighed quietly, and parted his lips to slide his tongue across her lip. She wasted no time responding to the kiss, letting her tongue gently slip into his mouth.

She giggled when she felt his tongue piercing roll across her tongue, the little rod giving her shivers as it scratched her tongue.

They indulged in a full-on tongue battle, as Brendon would slide his tongue down hers, and she would try and push his back. But he always won. He had never once met a girl who could beat him.

Not even Kayla.

Time stopped when his mind drifted back to Kayla. His Princess. His one-and-only Princess. And he had hurt her, when she was there for him, and when she was trying to help him. He suddenly felt sick. He felt like trash.

His personal stripper suddenly lost control, and pushed herself harder against his throbbing erection. He couldn't help but buck his hips, and she half-gasped, half-screamed his name.

His name.

This stripper, who he had no idea who was, and had never told her his name or age, just screamed out his name in pleasure.

He stopped, and pulled back.

"How do you know my name?"

She froze, blush concealed behind her mask of gold. Her long curled chestnut hair hung over her face in little waves, concealing her raised eyebrows.

"I...uh..."

Brendon reached behind him and untied his mask, and pulled it off.

She gazed lovingly into his eyes and whispered to herself, "It's you..."

"How do you know me?"

She stood up, unsure of how to approach the answer. She accidentally stepped on his jeans on the floor. She looked down and kicked them away. She turned back to him-

-and she heard a clink.

Brendon narrowed his eyes suspiciously, obviously having heard the noise, too.

She turned around and walked towards the pile of denim that was his jeans, on the floor on the other side of the booth.

"May I?" She asked politely, pointing to the pockets.

Brendon, knowing he had nothing to hide, agreed. "Knock yourself out, Princess." He rolled his eyes. He never got to use that nickname anymore, what with Jade being stubborn all the time.

She whimpered softly to herself. Pushing her emotions aside, she dug through his pockets, flipping past dollar bills and his skull-carved box lighter.

Then she glanced to the ground by her feet - and froze.

She bent down, and picked it up. It was a small silver ring, intended to fit the skinniest and boniest of fingers. She didn't think anything of it, until she turned it over. Inscribed in the silver band, in carefully-placed miniature diamonds, was the name "Jade" in all capitals.

She felt her heart pound in her throat, and her entire body heated up at that very moment. She zipped back to Brendon, who lay against the chair, completely satisfied.

She trotted up to him - and smacked him. Hard. Literally, backhanded him.

"You dirty pig!"

He cocked her head and looked at her with a look of utter confusion. "What...what did I do?"

"What the fuck is this?" She slammed the ring down in the palm of his hand.

Brendon looked over the object carefully, turning it and flipping it. It was just a simple ring, and it wasn't his. But then he saw Jade's name carved in it.

Oh no...it was Jade's engagement ring. And his toy had found it.

"I can explain!" He blurted out. "I'm not engaged, no matter what you might think. Trust me."

"Trust you? TRUST YOU?" She stomped her heels. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM!"

He sat motionless. She growled loudly and untied the back of her mask, and thrust it into his chest.

"Now take a look."

Brendon looked at her. He studied her closely. She was beautiful, just like he always knew she was. although this was the very first time he'd seen her face since he started coming here about a year ago. She had big onyx doe eyes, a band of freckles spreading from the bridge of her nose to under her eyes, and pouty golden lips.

"Oh my God..."

He was looking at Kayla.

"You...fucking got engaged...to JADE?" She asked calmly, taking heaving breaths in-between her words to keep herself from yelling. A look of total disgust shielded her face.

"Look, it's not what you think-"

"Not what I think?" Now she was yelling. "You fucking dumped me for no reason, better yet, you CHEATED ON ME on National Television! I was always there for you, Brendon, and you betrayed me! ME!"

"Kayla, I-"

"Go fuck yourself!" She stormed out into a cloud of screams and protests by the other men.

Brendon pulled on his clothes as quickly as he possibly could, and ran after her, but stopped short.

Cops flooded the entire joint, handcuffing men like crazy. Brendon noticed a lot of the men being arrested were WAY older than he was, and he even noticed a few teenage boys roaming around.

"Hey! Let me go!"

Brendon noticed Kayla being shoved and handcuffed, and being lead outside. Each of the strippers were being arrested, too. He heard the manager shouting in protest, gunshots ringing out through the air like the popping of balloons on a dart board, and he looked down at the ring in his palm.

Out of rage, he tossed the ring across the stage and never bothered to care where it went. He just wanted out.

He sighed in annoyance when he noticed cops flooding around him, handcuffs being slapped on his wrist, and...Jade?

Jade was here!

She seemed angry as hell, and was pushing her way through the wall of policemen.

"Brendon!" She growled angrily. "You are so gonna get it!"

I really don't even know. I honestly didn't think it would turn out like this. Whatever. Hope y'all liked it.
xox Van