Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball-Chapter 203: Voyeurism? Just working overtime

Nash stood in front of Dahlia, his casual smile sharp at the edges, blocking her path without trying.

The brothel’s moans and wet slaps echoed around them, bodies grinding close in the crowd, but these two were in their own world.

Dahlia froze, eyes widening.

... How?

He had vanished with those women a few second ago, so how was he now standing in front of her?

She glanced around quickly, scanning for the half-naked girls, confirming he was alone now. Her fingers tapped her arms once, then stopped, her posture straightening as she forced a calm appearance.

"So..." Nash said, his eyes narrowing, as to remind her to stay in character.

Dahlia swallowed, her throat bobbing subtly.

"Nash. What a surprise." She shifted her weight to one hip, arms crossing loose under her tits, pushing them up a bit.

Nash leaned against a booth wall, his arms folding casually across his chest.

"Didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to Midnight Rest? Looking for some pounding?"

Dahlia’s jaw tightened a bit, her hand adjusting a thread of hair.

"Just... handling some work. For Victoria." Her eyes flicked to the side again, where a woman squirted like a fountain, then back. "What about you? You... weren’t you with some girls? Where are they?"

Nash smirked slowly, even Dahlia flinched instantly. She had said too much. She straightened fully.

"I mean, I just noticed you in the crowd. I know you could go at it for hours, so I’m surprised to see you so soon."

Nash rubbed a finger under his nose proudly. Who would have thought he’d get a praise like that a month ago? Back when he was the Underground’s almighty "baby dick".

"For some things, I’m pretty quick. For others, I like... hmm... taking my time." He paused, eyes on hers. "But anyway, what’s your plan here? Meeting someone?"

Dahlia looked aside, clenching her arms tightly under her tits, pushing them up higher in the dress, the fabric straining against them.

She uncrossed them slowly, gesturing vague to the crowd.

"Nothing special, scouting talent. Work never stops." Her thighs shifted, pressing together. "Hard to get someone willing to pay for that when those degenerates do it for the love of the sport."

Nash looked around, observing the festival of fucking, the symphony of dicks plunging into open mouths, the drumming of asses on hips, sweat and sperm dripping onto skin everywhere.

"Yeah, it is," he said, then stepped closer, his height making her tilt her head up more. "But it’s bad to work overtime. Hey, since you’re here, join me inside. Let’s relax a little."

Dahlia hesitated, her eyes widening slightly, internally panicking.

Invite? Her? Inside? She turned her head slowly, looking at the Midnight Rest doors, moans spilling out louder, bodies grinding in the entry.

If he invited her there... it meant he was planning to... fuck her?

Her cunt clenched wet at the thought, but she pushed it down. No, focus... Victoria’s orders.

"Dahlia?" Nash called her name, softly teasing as he leaned in. "You’re distracted again. Thinking about something?"

He persuaded her with sweet words, his hand brushing her arm lightly, fingers trailing down to her wrist, feeling her pulse jump under the skin.

Yeah... Relax my ass. He’s going to knock me out again. Her teeth caught her lower lip, biting down softly.

But that man... what the hell was so wrong with him? Why did everything he did or said sounded so... perfect? It was like he was getting better everyday just by existing.

"Tonight, just relax. Let me handle things. You work too hard and deserve a break. I’ll make sure it’s worth it."

She hesitated more, her thighs pressing together again, eyes flicking to his lips. Victoria, or a wonderful night?

What a dilemma.

"But... aren’t you meeting someone?"

She tried her hardest to stay focused on her mission, but the more she was tailing him, the more she made mistakes, and that question was one of them.

Nash’s gaze sharpened, locking on hers, making her realize... she’d hinted too much again, let slip she knew about the booking with Nia.

She ended up swallowing, then nodded slowly.

"Fine. Lead the way."

Nash walked forward, Dahlia falling into step beside him as they pushed deeper into the building.

Dahlia stayed close at his side, her arm brushing his as the crowd swallowed them. The inside was the same wave of heat and noise, just thicker than outside.

Bodies everywhere, skin slapping skin in every corner, moans mixing with the thumping music like a dirty heartbeat.

A girl straddled a booth bench on all fours, ass high as one guy slammed his cock into her cunt while another thrust deep into her ass. Nearby, a man lay on a stool, face buried between a woman’s ass cheeks, giving her a rimjob, while another girl knelt below, sucking his cock deep.

The air smelled thick sweat, cum, cheap lube, and alcohol. The more he navigated here, the more Nash understood why Victoria personally suggested him to focus his attention on the upper floors. It was Hell here.

He felt Dahlia tense beside him, her thighs pressing together as a moan cut close. Nash’s hand stayed firm on her lower back, guiding her through the grinding bodies.

She was used to this place, yeah, but not with him leading.

They found a quieter booth in the back, still close to the action, but with a low table for drinks. Nash sat first, pulling Dahlia down beside him, her hip pressing warmly against his thigh.

She crossed her legs, dress riding up a bit, her tits heaving a little faster from the walk.

A server approached, sexy outfit barely covering anything, lace top with tits spilling out the sides, nipples visible through the sheer fabric, short skirt showing ass cheeks with each step, and definitely no panties underneath.

She leaned over the table, tits hanging heavy in Nash’s view.

"What can I get you, handsome? You look like you need something strong." Her voice teasing, eyes on his bulge, hand brushing his arm lightly as she set down coasters.

Nash smiled, his hand sliding to Dahlia’s thigh under the table.

"Two of your best whiskey. On ice."

The server winked, her ass jiggling as she turned.

"Coming right up." She glanced at Dahlia, smirking. "Lucky girl."

Dahlia shifted, her thigh tensing under his hand, but she kept her voice even.

"Whiskey? Told you I’m working. I can’t drink."

Nash squeezed her thigh lighter, thumb brushing higher.

"Relax. Victoria gave me permission to do what I want, right? Well, I want to spend time with you. Consider it part of your work, entertaining me."

He leaned closer, breath hot on her ear, fingers inching up her inner thigh, brushing the edge of her panties, feeling the damp fabric stick to her skin.

Dahlia’s breath hitched, her pussy clenching wet at the touch.

Seriously... this guy... this man, was too much.

"Fine. One drink." She exhaled. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

The server returned quickly, setting down the whiskeys with a clink, ice cracking in the glasses.

Nash clinked hers, downing half his in one swallow, the burn sliding down his throat, warming his chest. Dahlia sipped slower, her lips wet from the liquor, eyes flicking to the crowd.

They watched people fucking, a group of three guys on a girl, stretching every hole, nearby, a stripper on a small stage, teasing the crowd with hips swaying in a tiny thong, her tits free and bouncing as she peeled off her top, nipples dark, rubbing them between her fingers with soft moans.

A guy from the audience jumped up, cock out and hard, grabbing her waist, she laughed, bending over the pole, ass out as he ripped the thong aside and thrust into her ass deeply

Her tits slapped the pole with each hit, the crowd cheering as she squirted down her thighs.

Nash leaned back, hand still on Dahlia’s thigh, fingers rubbing slow circles higher.

"So, found anyone yet?" he asked casually.

Dahlia sipped her drink slowly, trying to stay calm, but her thighs tensed under his hand.

"What?"

Nash’s thumb pressed harder,.

"Talent," he said, his smirk widening. "You said you were scouting. Spot any good ones?"

Dahlia’s eyes widened again, did she make another mistake?

"Huh?... Oh!" She set her glass down quickly.

Her thighs shifted again, rubbing together as Nash’s terrifying passives made her feel wetter. She glanced away, then back at his smirk, and realized.

"Wait...you... You can’t be serious, you told me to stop working and relax."

Nash chuckled low.

"I know," he teased. "Just like seeing you freak out a little. Cute when you panic."

Dahlia’s breath hitched. She took another sip to hide the flush.

"Fine. Have your fun. But if I had to choose..." She nodded to a guy nearby pounding a girl’s cunt from behind against the bar.

"That one’s got stamina, keeps going, no breaks. But he’s sloppy, misses the rhythm half the time, leaves the girl hanging."

She shifted her gaze to another, a man with two girls, one riding his face while the other sucked his cock.

"Him? Multi-tasker, handles two at once. Good endurance. But weak finish." Just as she said, the man twitched, grunting loudly as he came. Dahlia nodded. "Comes too fast, doesn’t build them up."

"Ouch," Nash replied, strangely sympathizing with this pain.

Dahlia nodded to a third, a guy lifting a girl against the wall, her legs wrapped around him, slamming into her ass with hard slaps.

"That one—strength, lifts her easy, good control. But no creativity, just pounds straight. Boring after a minute."

She paused, biting her lip.

"But you... you’d outclass them all. Dangerous, even. At your level, you’d steal every girl’s attention here, ruin the business... But as a sex worker? You’d quadruple the budget, drawing all the women in the Underground. If you ever feel about a change of career..."

"I’ll think about that," he said, smirking.

Dahlia’s thighs trembled, sipping her drink again, eyes on him.

The whiskey warmed her chest, spreading a subtle heat through her veins, making her cheeks flush a dark pink and her thighs relax just a bit more against the booth seat.

Her eyelids felt heavier, the crowd’s moans blurring a little, her fingers loosening on the glass as she took another slow sip, the burn sliding down smoother now.

She stretched, hoping the light would help her staying focused, but a shadow fell over her suddenly, blocking the neon glow.

She looked up, her eyes narrowing at the guy looming right next to her, fat, beer belly straining his stained shirt, a bit over 180 cm, average face with stubble and red cheeks from too much drink, sweat on his forehead.

He smirked down at her, eyes visibly on her tits, then her lips.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said. "Those curves are killer... tits like that, ass probably tight as hell. But come on, no one comes here just to sit and drink, sweetheart. Let me show you a good time."

Dahlia ignored him, turning her gaze back to her glass, sipping again without a word.

The guy stayed immobile for a moment, then groaned. Maybe he wasn’t used to be rejected, but he wasn’t neither going to let it pass.

He leaned in closer, his hand reaching for her shoulder, fingers thick and sweaty, but it stopped mid-air.

His eyes widened, through the alcohol, he was focused on Dahlia, but now, he suddenly the giant standing next to her.