A/N

As promised, this chapter...escalates.

We're gonna pretend that this is exactly how private shows work lol... But, if you don't want to read the s m u t , then the third <> is a guideline to where things begin heat up. And the one that breaks this note with the story counts as the first one.

But let's face it, I BET you secretly do because who doesn't want to read Steven getting all hot and sweaty hmm??

Exactly! No one in their right mind. So, without further ado, enjoy! Or don't...(I tried ok, I tried to make it reasonably good)

<>

Pulling on his leather jacket, Steven hammered on the door for the second time.

"JOE! Get it up, and open up!"

Listening out in response to his play-on words, Steven was about to raise his hand and holler for a third time, but the bedroom door flung open, whooshing air in his face.

"I heard you the first time," Joe grumbled angrily, leaning a well toned arm on the door to stop it from opening all the way. He was already providing a fitting smoulder expression around his messy bed hair.

Steven ignored him, bent down to pick up the sports bag lying between his feet, and threw it into his friend's bare chest.

A quick reflex action ensured it was caught comfortably.

"Get dressed. We're going to get high."

"I haven't eaten yet."

"Well, you can have girls as your meal."

Joe rolled his eyes, dropping the bag behind him. He then placed a firm hand on the edge of the door to close it.

"Whatever, man. Give me five."

Steven stuck his foot in the gap. "Three."

"Just leave me alone."

The corner of Steven's mouth stretched with a dangerous smirk, and he took his foot away just before Joe slammed the door properly in his face.

Freshly dressed in distressed blue jeans, a black t-shirt and his iconic black leather jacket and boots combo, Steven jogged downstairs. The burner phone and crumpled piece of paper with phone numbers rested in his right front pocket and a healthy sum of cash settled in his left.

He experienced no more strange memory flashes when rounding up the guys and like he was a new man, he was acting close to his normal self.

Loud and bossy.

They waited in the van, Tom retaking his role as driver with Steven and Joey next to him, and Brad opted to go in the back.

Joe showed his face around seven minutes after Steven had told him three, most definitely on purpose, but having a mind set on hot chicks and getting high, meant he couldn't really care less.

<>

Using code worded messages, Steven had been given an address of a place around a forty minute drive away.

In the daylight, the surrounding villages that he must have driven through on moving night, were stunning. Petite cobbled homes in smart rows oozed historic character and accompanied neat hedgerows and gardens that lined narrow roads.

Their destination would have had a similar feel about five or ten years ago, but from past experience, it was always the bad places that had the good stuff. So, Tom parked up where there were a couple of other lone vehicles and they all got out, no questions asked.

Steven did a three sixty, scanning the abandoned surroundings, and led his friends to the presumed entrance.

The building used to be a pub or club house of some sort judging by the empty sign that hung out the front. Most windows were bordered up, and there were temporary fences like the ones found on construction sites in an attempt to block the place off, but half of them were flat on the ground and leaning awkwardly over their concrete feet.

Steven knocked twice on a dodgy fire exit and a guy appeared with a significant amount of gel combed through his black hair, a scar running down his left cheek, and a freshly lit smoke in his mouth.

The guy took his time looking them over, particularly Steven, but opened up all the same.

Light music, a bath of neon lighting, and a plume of pot and alcohol welcomed them in. There was a fully operational bar to Steven's right where a few middle aged men were nursing a drink. Tables of drugs and empty poker games were scattered here and there, and probably stretched around the back, but the main event was to his left where a couple of hotties danced on a lit stage and swung from poles where an audience would sit in dingy red booths.

Mr gelled hair had wandered off towards the stage area and smacked the shoulder of some other man, alone watching the girls, though he made sure he was looking right at Steven when he spoke.

"The Americans are here."

As he stood at the front of the pack, Steven was eyed up and down first, and once stood, the guy was huge, around six four, six five, with thick arms barely contained by the smart purple shirt he wore. His shoulders were stupidly broad and he had a young, chiselled face with impressive sideburns straight out of the seventies.

Mr gelled hair and nasty scar, a Russian bloke by the twinge Steven picked up on in his voice, seemed uninterested by the whole meet 'n' greet situation, and he puffed away silently behind his presumed boss.

Steven was already beginning to dislike him and his icy glare.

The giant of a human stole the attention though and gave a contrary sideways grin, revealing a gleaming silver filling on a front tooth.

"Welcome to a little taste of heaven, boys."

<>

It turned out the rather intimidating giant was not intimidating at all. He introduced himself as Matthew but everyone called him Matty and he spoke with a softened cockney accent which did thicken on certain words.

Not only did he make everyone feel right at home with his friendly personality, but he also had an excellent selection of drugs, and if that didn't steal the show, the women were on another level because Matty said there were no rules except their rules, and that was fine by Steven.

Absolutely F.I.N.E, fine.

He was already teetering with a high having snorted a couple of lines with Joe which had loosened the tension between them. He was splashing the cash left, right and centre and giving everyone an opportunity to have their turn, but in the end, he didn't really care what they got up to.

He vaguely registered Joey and Tom going off somewhere, maybe even Brad, and after being with Joe a while, he too went off to do his own thing.

The concept of time and care seemed to disappear into thin air.

Steven was in a warm buzz, spread out over a sofa and chatting to a beautiful chick who he just so happened to be sharing a joint with. She had caught his eye whilst on stage and made no hesitation to come over once her little party trick was over. They exchanged names, hers being Honey, which, for a stage name more than perfectly described her hair colour and sweet perfume.

Mischievous blue eyes accentuated by thick black mascara and eye-liner kept him hooked, and Steven was well aware of how close they were sitting and the dainty hand snaking its way along the inside of his thigh.

He watched her take a slow drag and tilt her head back to blow the smoke upwards into their little drug bubble. As she did so, her long, honey blonde waves of hair tipped down her back and the sight was quite something.

Steven was enjoying himself, relaxing more with every second that ticked on by, yet he still placed his hand on top of hers to stop it rubbing on his jeans.

"I took you as a risk taker." Honey hinted with disappointment, flicking her eyes down at their hands. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Oh I am, baby," Steven assured, and managed to stop her hand from completely slipping away. He leaned ever so closer, just to make sure his voice would carry the purpose of seduction. "I would have you right here, right now, with all those dirty fuckers watching."

Even with the soft pound of music in the background, Steven could hear the light vibrations of Honey expressing her humour, and he refused to be seen as a liar.

"You think I'm joking?" He took her hand, positioning it so the base of her palm was pressed just underneath his belt and her fingers could curl over the top. "A little risk doesn't scare me."

With tips of teeth, Honey grazed her cherry stained lip, narrowing her eyes at him. She had not, however, moved her hand, and that was a good sign in his book.

"Go on."

Keeping his cool, Steven relied on his talented way with words to do the talking.

"I would kiss you first- really kiss you, and slip my hand under your skirt whilst you were distracted with my tongue. I'd push your panties aside and play with your pussy, tease you with my fingers until you can barely keep your mouth shut, and then have you ride my cock until you're so close you don't know what to do with yourself."

Steven paused, curling the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and it certainly got the attention. He didn't need to, just like he didn't need to lean in closer so he could drop his voice to a sensual whisper, but it added the drama to his speech.

"You wouldn't let yourself finish though, would you?" His knuckle slowly brushed the chain around her neck, lifting before he was too close to her breasts. "Self control is too important for you."

Honey removed her hand from his belt, and stared at the joint she twiddled between her free fingers.

"That's quite an assumption, Steven."

"Am I...wrong?"

Honey took her sweet time deliberating, inhaling on drug-induced smoke, and eventually setting her eyes on him, and him only.

"There's no need to be so cocky about it," she said, placing the joint between her lips again. "Though, I do like a confident man."

It wasn't just confidence Steven could offer, but he decided to stay quiet and keep his hands to himself, in order to get the invitation he wished.

When Honey had made up her mind, she first lit herself a cigarette from a pack on the table as a fresh incentive, and then hooked a finger towards herself, a hithering notion that could have only been to please.

Steven might have sported a smirk as he took a place beside her, and used the opportunity to snake an arm very low round her ample hips and guide her to face him.

"Was it something I said?"

To be answered with a firm palm rubbing down his crotch, two of those fingers holding a cigarette, was a challenge he relished.

"Maybe, I just like what I see." Honey gave him a squeeze, batting her eyelashes up at him.

She led the way after that, no time for Steven to press what exactly she meant with such a vague statement, and they ended up somewhere a lot more private where there would be no chance of anyone watching, not that the drunks were giving anyone except their empty glasses the time of day.

The mood was warm and the suite intimate, and Steven removed his jacket before taking a seat on a black couch.

His smile was lazy, a functional giddiness from being high on coke and lust, and he noted just how short Honey's skirt was as she pulled the drapes across. The material did wonders for her arse, and the same went for the tight lace on her busty top piece which clung to her figure in all the right places when she turned around.

She was smokin', and quite literally too.

Taking the cigarette from her mouth, Honey placed it delicately between two fingers and strutted over to an oh-so-patiently waiting Steven. She climbed on top of him, placing her knees either side of his hips, but she did not sit in his lap.

It was show time, and Steven spread out his arms either side of him on top of the sofa.

"Are you clean?" Honey asked seriously, holding her effortless waves of hair to one side.

Steven's lazy smile never wavered, lost in a daze at the beauty that he was about to receive head from.

"Of course."

"Good."

Evidently satisfied, Honey lifted her unoccupied hand to the side of his neck, and stroked her thumb there.

"I only have one rule..."

Affection like this was extremely uncommon; it was a blow job and payment, but Steven often had this effect on women, and Honey was no different succumbing to his charm.

"You only."

"No exceptions?"

He had to try, it was only in his nature, and Steven bettered his chances by placing one of his eager hands on top of the smooth skin of her thigh. His palm slid upwards and the tips of his fingers disappeared slowly, as if to tease, underneath the shiny fabric.

When he touched the lace that covered her pussy, Honey sat on his lap to prevent his access, and he was no longer the only one aware of the bulge in his jeans.

Steven had the cig nudged between his lips for him, happy to be of service taking a drag, and didn't look away from the mysterious blue eyes when he blew out a smoke cloud from the side of his mouth.

"No exceptions," Honey repeated, leaning forward to kiss him.

Contrasting the powerful urge in the kiss, soft hands found and guided his own, placing them either side of her middle and his fingers automatically splayed at the contact.

Alternating pressure and a grind of hips had Steven's cock twitching in his pants, straining further into the two layers that kept it hidden. He lowered his hands over her arse, squeezing firmly, and tried to reclaim some of the control over his tongue being attacked in his own mouth.

Steven had a knack for persuasion, the thought of sex after a dry spell alone making his heartbeat quicker, so he secured his hands to her hips to keep her flush to his lap and dragged his lips down her chin.

Honey must've been surprised judging by the grip on his shoulders, but she didn't stop him from latching onto her neck, eventually holding her hair out the way for more kissing coverage, or loosening the ties on her top so he could bury his face in her tits.

"Oh god." He made her moan, securing her fidgeting on his lap with the skill of his hands. "This isn't part of my job."

Steven carried on, only for the gift his mouth was giving being forced into a kiss when his face was held up. His eyes closed, lips moved in sync, and it became a pace that should have led to some hot sex.

So when Honey slid off his lap in one fluid motion to the floor, spreading his knees wider so she could kneel in between, rules, unfortunately, remained in place.

At the loss of friction, Steven had to roll his head back to prevent a moan escaping him, but his belt loosening gave him the anticipation of his beloved freedom, and he would have been an idiot not to watch.

Honey tugged at his jeans, an insistence to get them down his legs, and he was left in a pair of snug boxers that barely contained his erection.

"All that talk..." His t-shirt was pushed up, warm mouth to his skin. "And you really do have something to show for it."

Steven made a soft noise at the back of his throat with each kiss placed on his clothed cock. He could feel the damp spot, and the attention his concealed tip was receiving would only stimulate more pre-cum.

Being under the influence of drugs meant he didn't care so much for an emotional connection, and he was confident he could hold out long enough to enjoy a blowjob from a lack of consistent sex.

Boxers pulled down his thighs, Honey took his cock in her hand, all his hardened glory that was beginning to throb again with a woman's touch, and wasted no time slickening him up further in her mouth.

Steven managed to keep his hands to himself for a fair while, but the more her tongue licked along his smooth veins, his fingers wove their way into her hair to hold it up.

As blowjobs went, Honey was taking him delightfully, perhaps moaning too much around the firm strokes her hand made to push his dick into her mouth, but she was making his knees weak, his orgasm close, and shattering his stamina.

"Fuck," Steven muttered, stroking sections of her hair back to get a better view of her hollowed cheeks. "Just like that."

As much as he knew holding off would give a better end, he couldn't fight the instinct of thrusting his hips and chasing pleasure heightened by drugs.

Steven didn't say her name when he came; he didn't really say anything in warning of his release, but he knew Honey was watching him intensely enough to know when he was about to finish.

She was licking her lips clean from him when the blissful feeling had dissolved away, and although it didn't make him hard again, it was a sexy sight.

Honey got up from her knees, smoothing out her outfit, and turned away for Steven to re-dress himself. He joined her eventually, standing face to face in front of the drapes, and was holding his jacket by the collar since he had slung it over his shoulder.

With his free hand, he reached into a pocket and pulled out some cash to stick into Honey's top, and the money fit nicely between the lace on her breasts.

"I think the girls will like you here."

"Why's that?" Steven asked, curious with his easy-going smile.

Honey pondered, puckering her cherry stained lips in thought. "They just will."

He took the lack of elaboration as a compliment nonetheless and bent down to kiss her cheek. When he pulled away though, she simply scrunched up the bottom of his t-shirt and connected their lips again. Steven was thrown off balance for a brief second, but pressed back eagerly, with his free hand stabilising her hip, and his tongue dipping into her mouth to prolong the parting kiss.

"Now fuck off, I want to get wasted." Honey pushed him away and dragged open a section of the thick drapes.

Steven couldn't exactly be disappointed with the service he had received, and didn't need to be told twice.

He retraced his steps, body refreshed, and he came to the conclusion, as he wandered past the bar, that he liked this place very much.

<>