Chapter 2 AméLie Petit

• Amélie Petit
• Where was my mind when I agreed to come with Laura to the Moulin Rouge? I know my job as Noely's assistant provides me with a good income. I have all my monthly bills paid; there's only one that I'm sure I won't be able to honor. If it weren't for my father getting into this mess and the loan shark he owes, I wouldn't be here subjecting myself to this. Not that I'm belittling the life of prostitution my best friend lives, but I know very well that she doesn't always have the luck to pick a good client who treats her kindly and not just as a punching bag.
• How many times have I needed to help her get home after she called me for help because she suffered another assault from some dirty politician from Paris or Europe who loves to come to the Moulin Rouge to enjoy one of the girls from the world's most famous brothel?
• "Choose a mask and sway on stage, you dance so well, you know you don't have to go to the private rooms if you don't want to, but if you decide, you just need to pay the house fee and the rest is yours," Laura says as she finishes applying her makeup.
• Even though we're wearing masks, the house owner asks us to always be impeccable because the decision to reveal ourselves is only ours. And the clients know the rules of the house. Before entering the dressing room, Madame Françoasi showed me around and said I would always be welcome to dance.
• My beauty was exotic, she said. Thanks, an anomaly inherited from my mother, I have a strand of hair in a darker shade amidst my golden and straight hair; it's something I love.
• Unfortunately, I lost my mother during a robbery she and my father suffered while he was picking her up from work. We went through terrible times after that tragedy. I was still very young, only eight years old, but even then, I saw how the deep depression that engulfed my father sank him when he immersed himself in the gambling addiction.
• I left home when I was sixteen, the moment he decided to sell my virginity to some idiot he would gamble with. I managed to escape by sheer luck. The same luck I had in finding such good people who helped me a lot, until one day I stumbled upon Laura, a Brazilian immigrant who didn't speak a word of French and couldn't buy a bottle of water.
• Luckily, I had learned a bit of Portuguese, but the one from Portugal, so our friendship blossomed, and to this day, we live together, supporting each other, in joys and especially in romantic disappointments.
• Because one thing we have in common is a knack for attracting the wrong men, which is sometimes unbelievable. While I ponder the comedic tragedy that is my life, I choose one of the exclusive pieces that Noely Miller designed and crafted for me; I'll wear a small white one with some lace covering part of my behind.
• I approached my friend, who was already wearing a dark piece and thigh-high stockings, holding her mask.
• "You look beautiful. Don't forget to put on your mask; I think the next show is yours. I'll walk around among the clients for a bit to see if I can get any clients for tonight," she says, leaving me a little more confident.
• I watch as she walks away, take a deep breath, and grab the first mask offered to me by another girl who would dance that night. It's a Venetian mask with peacock feathers protruding from the side, letting some fall over my breasts. It's beautiful. I return the gentle smile and hear her wish me luck on my performance. I step onto the stage and let my body be guided by the sensual sound coming from the amplifiers.
• As I use the pole dance bar, my gaze falls to one of the boxes, and an electric current runs through my body as I recognize the gaze of my boss's flirtatious nephew. I continued dancing, displaying my buttocks towards the box he was in. With each sway, it's as if I'm offering myself to Tommáz Walker, the biggest playboy in America and probably in Paris, at least when he's here to visit his grandmother, Enora Miller and aunt. I surrender to the beats of the music, and with each acrobatic move, I give a subtle glance in his direction, feeling his eyes burning into me, making me even more excited.
• "Amélie?" I hear my name being called by a waiter who approaches the stage. I pause the performance and walk towards him. "A client from the box requests exclusivity."
• "Exclusivity."
• The term used to indicate that someone is interested in having an hour of non-committal and consensual sex. But it's not my intention to go to bed with any man tonight. I'm content just to receive the two thousand euros for dancing and to earn tips after finishing my performance.
• I shake my head, rejecting the offer. After all, how could I sleep with my boss's nephew? I return to dancing slowly until I reach the center of the stage, still looking towards the box. I prepare to perform another acrobatic move on the pole dance. When I don't find the blue eyes belonging to the most notorious playboy I know, I feel frustrated not to find him again. I try to locate him, but my music is almost over. I approach the edge of the stage and collect some euro notes, dollars, and pounds, which I stash away before exiting the stage.
• Before I could enter the dressing room, large hands close around my wrist. When I look at the man, I'm surprised by his audacity to approach me like this without my permission. I gaze at his face, which seems authoritative and carries a weight from the excitement of watching me dance for him because I'm sure he noticed that every move I made on that stage was exclusively for him.
• Summoning courage, I accept his invitation and lead him to the room next to the stage. I keep the room dimly lit because I can't let him recognize me. I intend to give an intriguing night to my boss's nephew. I grab one of the blindfolds available in the drawer and cover his beautiful blue eyes. Once he can no longer see me, I remove my mask.
• They say the unknown instigates, prompting us to seek a way to reveal what we can't fully see on the surface. Perhaps that's why so many people venture to explore the depths of the ocean or the vastness of the sky.
• I feel the woody scent making him even more alluring. I run my hands over his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. I want to savor every part of this night with the heir of the Walker family.
• Tommáz is a tall man, and though I'm not short, even with heels, I barely reach his chin. I push the fabric of his shirt, which falls completely to the ground at his feet.
• "I see you like to torture a hungry man, mademoiselle!" His question massages my ego, indicating his approval of what I'm doing.
• "Hungry?" I ask, intrigued as I remove the belt from his pants. "You don't seem hungry, since you allowed yourself to be blindfolded!" I say with a hint of arrogance.
• I feel his fingers closing around my neck, squeezing and taking my breath away. I'm impressed when my pussy gets wet with this display of power because I can't deny he's hot as hell.
• "Don't test me, mademoiselle. I'm not a patient man..." I pull his face towards mine, silencing whatever he intended to say.
• His lips were moist, caught off guard when I kissed him. I pushed his body, making him release his hands from my neck and wrap them around my waist. I walk with him to the bed and end up falling on top of him, our lips still locked in a battle for dominance. I let a smile appear as I feel him sucking on my lower lip.
• "I hope you have a condom with you, Monsieur Walker?" I ask, maintaining the same formality in my language, emphasizing the French accent.
• My intention was only to dance, so I didn't come prepared for a night of hot sex. Therefore, I hope he's a cautious and responsible man because not for all the money in the world would I have sex without a condom. I've had my share of foolishness, and I won't do it again, especially not with someone I theoretically know.
• "You can be sure of that..." He responds, and then he turns us over on the bed. "Let me see you?"
• "Negative. Be a good boy and keep the blindfold on," I say as he kisses the valley between my breasts and inhales my perfume.
• His skillful hands manage to remove one of my breasts from the frame of the bra I was wearing. Modesty aside, working with Noely has its privileges, and one of them is receiving haute couture pieces.
• I gasp when the warmth of his mouth touches my left breast. I spread my legs wider, hoping that the heated flesh will find some relief. I rub my pubis against the pelvis of the man driven mad by my breasts.
• I hear his satisfied grunts as he touches each of my breasts, alternating between them, taking care not to press his lips too hard on my nipples. I look at the tangle of blond hair making a trail of small kisses towards my slit, which begs for attention.
• "You smell so sweet, mademoiselle..." My mind begins to disconnect from my body the moment I feel his nose brushing against my opening.
• His hands move to the sides of my panties and gently pull them towards my thighs. I lift my hips from the bed to facilitate the process, and a smile escapes the corner of my mouth when I notice the care he takes with the intimate garment I was wearing.
• "I have an acquaintance who works with lingerie," he adds.
• The instant Tommáz touches my slit with his tongue, I come so close to the edge of pleasure that I see sparkling dots behind my eyelids. He plays with my clit as if he were sucking on a lollipop of his favorite fruit, leaving me intoxicated with desire for pleasure, hoping that the orgasm forming in my belly would reach its climax, making me even wetter than I already was.
• Feeling his fingers invading me, reaching the right spot, causes my body to detach from the bed and let out a scream of pleasure through my throat. My orgasm comes so strong that my legs start to feel weak. I feel a lethargy creeping over me, but I know the last thing I'll achieve here tonight is sleep.
• "Don't even think about sleeping, mademoiselle. We're just getting started," Tommáz rises from the bed.
• Even though the room is dark, I see him removing his pants and taking a condom from his wallet. He tears open the packet with his teeth. I can barely see how he puts on the condom, but there's no mistaking it.
• His hands find my ankle, and I help him reach my body, laughing every time he touches spots that tickle me. I stifle some of the laughs, lest he thinks I'm unhinged.
• I rest my hands on his broad shoulders, enjoying every part of that musculature he must have gained in the many hours at the gym, sculpting his beautiful body, as I've seen in magazines. I wish I could see him more clearly, but I know if I increase the light, he'll want to remove the blindfold, and I won't allow that.
• His erection enters my opening, sliding effortlessly and barrier-free, eliciting sighs and moans from both of us. Tommáz has a skill set that had me on the verge of another orgasm when he penetrated me. I close my eyes and let the sensations take over every part of my body.
• "Impressive fucking hot woman..." I hear him swearing in his language.
• I take a deep breath with each thrust that reaches the depths of my womb, a pleasurable pain that surprises me. He grips my wrists and raises them above my head, leaving me defenseless, which only excites me more.
• He teases by entering and withdrawing slowly, driving me crazy, longing for rougher sex. I groan in frustration when he pulls his cock out of my pussy.
• "Turn around, mademoiselle." His hands turn me over all at once, eliciting an exclamation from me for what he's about to do.
• I arch my back, getting on all fours for him to enter again, craving everything the Walker can give me. I'm a woman forced to hand over all my monthly money to a loan shark, but today at least, I'll have the pleasure of lying in the same bed and receiving pleasure from the most coveted man.
• I relax as he begins to enter slowly and runs his fingers over the tattoo on my buttocks, something I got when I was reckless in my youth. I feel a new orgasm approaching and surrender to the thrusts my one-night partner gives me.
• I contract the muscles of my pussy when I hear him say he's close to coming. I start the playful act that every man likes us to do but never has the courage to ask for. I keep contracting and relaxing until I hear Tommáz's roar of pleasure, pushing me two more times before collapsing carefully onto my body.
• I help him lie down on the bed and notice a huge smile on his face. Like him, I'm satisfied with what we just did, but now it's time to wake up to reality; I have to go home.
• Tomorrow, the fashion week begins, and I know Noely will squeeze blood out of me and every model who will showcase her creations, which, modesty aside, are spectacular. And to make things even busier, Elisa decided to get married on the first day to drive each of us crazy.
• "Monsieur, I have to go. Tonight was a surprise; I should have just danced," I speak sincerely.
• "Let me see your face. I want to take you home or have you sleep with me," his blindfolded face turns towards me.
• "We can't, sir," I reply in my language, causing him to lower his beautiful smile, leaving him frustrated.
• "Alright, since you're the only one who can see here, my wallet's fallen there on the floor, grab it," I let out a chuckle, earning a smack on the butt from him. Tommáz sits on the bed, and I hand him the wallet as soon as I pick it up, placing it on his thigh for him to do as he wishes. His hands search for my chin, and I kiss his lips again, with a certain delicacy, then pull away because I need to leave.
• "I have no idea what amount you have in mind for our adventure, but I would love very much if you allow me to have you again," he insists.
• "We can't, Monsieur," I repeat. But my body, longing for more pleasure, almost gives in to let him lay me back on this bed again. However, I can't afford to face him throughout the entire week if he knows I'm the woman behind the mask. I look at him again and kiss his lips before putting my mask back on.
• I rise from the bed and retrieve my panties since, in his desperation, he didn't even manage to remove that piece of clothing.
• "It's all yours, naughty mademoiselle. You'll leave my friend here sad," he pouts, almost making me laugh, but I need to leave.
• "Thank you for the pleasure, Monsieur. I'm leaving the room," I say, taking the amount he left on his leg and he grabs my wrist.
• "Tell me your name, please," I decide to give my favorite character's name.
• "Ella, goodbye, Monsieur Walker!" I leave the room, leaving him alone. I'm not crazy enough to give him my real name, especially since he'll probably spend the week bedding the models working for his aunt. In the dressing room, I look for Madame Françoasi and give her the portion she said was for the use of the private room. She pays me for dancing, and I ask her to let Laura know I've gone home. I need to stay away from Tommáz Walker as much as possible.