Chapter 12
Courtney
The sultry grin on her full, glossy lips stopped any other questions I had, and I let Sasha take my hand to lead me down the
hall to the lower room. When we crossed the threshold, I stopped to take in what she’d been doing. I honestly thought she’d
been down here just getting some work in since this was her comfort space, but she’d been busy setting things up for a performance.
The lights that were strung around the room cast a low, reddish glow, and the twinkling bouncing off the disco ball danced
on the walls. She’d really put some effort in, just like with breakfast this morning. And I told myself not to dwell on the
fact that in three years she’d never . . . nope, not dwelling.
I refocused my attention on being present. “What’s all this?”
She glanced back at me over her shoulder with a smirk on her lips as she led me over to the chair. With a gentle shove, I
fell back onto the comfortable furniture, readjusting myself on the wide, armless seat. She’d been very particular in choosing
this piece; she wanted to make sure she had room to move unrestricted when giving me dances. I was happy to have deferred
to her expertise.
“I’m just tryin’ to do somethin’ extra nice for you.”
I could feel the joy and excitement radiating off her as she stood in front of me, fiddling with the sash. As much as Sasha
enjoyed being the center of attention, I had to admit she also seemed to enjoy pampering me from time to time. I’d told her
before she’d make an excellent masseuse with the way she could work me over and relax muscles I didn’t even know could be
relaxed. Then again, part of me was selfish and wanted to keep those magic hands of hers to myself. She made it an entire
experience that I had initially tried to brush off, but then I gave in and let her have her way with me and I never protested
again.
Though sometimes it was also her MO when we were having issues and she didn’t want to admit any wrongdoing. She’d turn up
the attention factor, choosing to do actions instead of using her words. Most times I didn’t mind, but I would be lying if
I said I didn’t wish she would actually take responsibility and apologize rather than leaving it to be implied.
But what I wanted most was peace in my home. So I usually met her where she was at.
I took in the sight of my wife. Her hair was in loose curls hanging past her shoulders. The honey-brown color complemented
her golden-brown skin. Her eyes shimmered thanks to the glittery silver eyeshadow she wore. She finished off her lip with
the nude, high gloss I loved seeing her in. All of it made me even more eager to see what wonders awaited beneath the robe.
“Thought you said this morning you weren’t doing anything else nice for me. Got so aggravated that your accent went deep country.”
Whenever I teased Sasha to the point she was sick of my shit, that Southern twang of hers got way more pronounced.
I loved it, and I knew saying something would only rile her up.
I had to press my lips together to hide my smile when she narrowed her eyes at me and placed her hands on her rounded hips.
“Well, it sounds like you sayin’ you don’t want this.” She gestured up and down her body.
Again, I shook my head. “Not at all what I’m sayin’, baby. I always want this. Always want you.”
She grinned again. The smile stretched across her lovely face, crinkling her eyes. She truly was beautiful. “I always want
you too.”
A short silence settled between us before she gave herself a full-body shake, seemingly getting herself into character. She
picked up the remote next to the table and a melody started. I settled deeper into the chair, stretching my arms across the
back of it. When she undid the sash, my breath caught.
God, she was fucking stunning.
Coco Jones’s “ICU” filled the space, and when she started singing Sasha’s dance began. Watching her move reminded me of the
first night I saw her. Me, Shae, and Tina had gone to The Candy Shop, not planned, but we’d been looking for something to
do. And we’d heard good things about that particular strip club. It was fairly upscale, with great atmosphere and comfortable
club seating that invited you to stay for a good long while.
We hadn’t even bothered with getting the VIP area, and no one came up to us. We’d been enjoying our time when the mood shifted
in the club. The lights dimmed and the DJ did a hype introduction for Sugar Baby. The spotlight hit Sasha as she posed, waiting
for the song to start. At that moment it felt like the whole club went silent in anticipation.
“Dirty Diana” began, and she’d had my full attention. I was enamored when she started moving to the first beats of the song, and I could tell how much she enjoyed the attention. She commanded it. She moved as if the song was written just for her, for her performance.
She exuded a confidence that radiated from each movement, and that was on top of what she did onstage. The upper-body strength
alone was sexy as she climbed the pole, held on to it, and did a split midair, ass popping to the beat. A quick flip as she
slid down and stopped halfway in a feat I was sure defied the laws of gravity.
She was the snake charmer, and I was the snake, completely under her spell. Before I knew it, I’d made my way to the edge
of the stage, bills in hand, ready to give her anything she wanted. From there I became a regular, going on the nights that
she performed. And each night I went to see her I was never disappointed. Tina and Shae gave me shit about it, but I didn’t
give a fuck. There was something about Sasha that captured my attention, and years later, as she prepared to dance for me
in the privacy of our home, she still held that same allure.
However, this was better because I could touch, and touching I’d be doing. She strutted around the pole, timing her steps
with the music. The rhinestones of her outfit, catching in the low light, shimmered on the walls. And I was again mesmerized.
Never breaking eye contact with me, she flashed me a serene smile as she gave herself over to the dance.
Down she slid until she was in a squat. From that position she swayed side to side as she ran her hands over her breasts,
squeezing them together, which pulled a groan from my throat. Slowly, she opened and closed her legs while teasingly running
her fingers up her inner thighs. In six-inch heels, she performed a turn so effortlessly while in a squat that would have
probably had me on my ass.
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my legs, watching in wonder as my sexy wife popped each ass cheek independently.
There was an art, a craft to dancing and she’d fucking perfected it.
Rising with graceful ease, she strutted around the pole, then hooked a leg on it for support before moving into a slow backbend, her arms flowing with the music as she mouthed the lyrics.
I licked my lips, drinking in the sight of her. She was every-thing: beauty, grace, poise. The way she moved was what had
enraptured me in the beginning, and that hadn’t changed. I’d seen plenty of strippers in my day, but Sasha truly seemed to
come alive when she was performing. There was confidence in each move she made. It was easy to see that for her it was more
than just a job; she took pride in what she was doing, and not only did I find that sexy as hell, but I had mad respect for
her doing something she loved.
When she straightened, I instinctively slid back. She took slow steps while dancing and swaying, never breaking character
even though she was only performing for me. Sasha eased onto my lap, gyrating her hips and pushing her breasts into my face.
Soon as she was on me, I grabbed her ass, kneading the soft flesh and pulling her body close.
Being able to touch was the best perk of having my private dancer.
I buried my face in her neck and inhaled deep, drinking in the light vanilla-and-amber scent of her favorite perfume before
kissing and sucking at the soft skin.
She kept moving, while singing softly in my ear. A sweet seduction. “I’m a little lost without you . . . I need you.”
Sasha placed her palms on either side of my face, brushing her mouth over mine, slowly at first. A teasing series of small
pecks mixed with soft nips to my bottom lip. When she slipped her tongue in, I moaned at the connection. She pressed closer,
controlling the kiss. Her hard nipples brushed against mine. I gripped her ass, holding her in place; the heat of her body
seeped through my clothes, as did the evidence of her arousal.
I’d missed this. Missed her. Missed the way we could be. The way we should be.
Sasha wrapped her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. Our tongues swirled as we slowly drowned in each other. I moved
my hands up her back, her flesh warm beneath my palms. Moving slowly, I slid to the edge of the chair. She pulled back, looked
at me, full lips slightly puckered from our kissing and eyes sparkling.
She wrapped her ankles around my waist and with great care, I lowered us to the floor. I pulled the barely there bra down,
revealing her plump breasts. She tangled her fingers in my hair when I captured a nipple between my teeth and then flicked
my tongue over the tight bud. Hearing her moans of pleasure made me clench as the throbbing between my legs increased. Here
we made sense. Here we worked flawlessly.
I gave attention to the other side, mirroring the actions that I had just performed. She hissed out my name, widening her
legs, the heat of her, her wetness easily felt through her skimpy clothing. As I started to work my way down her body, she
stopped me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m takin’ care of you tonight. Remember?” She sat up, forcing me back, and she slowly maneuvered so that she straddled me
once again. “Don’t move.”
Sasha got up to retrieve a pillow from the chair. When she returned, she once again settled on top of me then gently adjusted
the cushion beneath my head, but I didn’t miss the small case she laid beside me.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t worry ’bout it.”
“Alright. It’s your show.”