13. Nathan
13 /
nathan
Crotch Diving For Treasure
As part of my choreography, I do a backflip off the DJ’s stand, land on the dance floor, strike a pose, and then roll my hips to the music. When I spin toward the crowd, I expect to find an anxious little bride waiting for me. Instead, I find Jeanie. My Jeanie.
My split-second shock is replaced by a naughty grin. I couldn’t have planned this moment better if I’d tried.
Sure, I knew I was dancing for a bachelorette party, but I thought the chances of it being for Sophia was slim to none. We’re miles away from the resort in another city. There are probably a hundred bachelorette parties happening tonight in South Florida alone. I only knew the location and the time to show up.
Typically, I don’t do these types of gigs anymore. I’m only here as a favor to my agent, Natasha, who couldn’t attend the wedding of some old college friend.
Jeanie is simultaneously adorable and ridiculous in her bachelorette party outfit. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I want to rip off her top and hold those bouncing tits in my hands. My mouth waters as I imagine tasting them.
I prowl in her direction, never releasing her gaze. With her deer-in-headlights expression, she’s either in shock, terrified, or both. At least I won’t have to explain my job now. She’ll experience it up close and personal. I prefer it this way. She will too when I’m done with her.
Circling Jeanie, I drag one hand across her shoulder, tugging off her pink boa as I walk. I spin and face her and loop the boa around her back so she’s trapped in my snare.
“Relax and have fun,” I say when I lean in.
She nods, still appearing nervous, but she hasn’t run off, so that’s a positive sign. There’s even a part of her that looks curious.
I toss the boa to the floor and take her hand. I kiss it like I did a few hours ago and then kneel in proposal. To move forward, touch her, and do the wicked things I’m about to do, I’ll need her consent.
So only she can hear, I quickly gloss over what’s about to happen and ask for her approval. When she accepts with an unsure nod, I’m relieved. As jittery as she is, she could have gone either way.
With the ground rules laid out, I continue my tortuous dance. I undo the buttons of my shirt, moving to the erotic dance beats. With the fabric fluttering open, I stand behind her, lift her arms above her head, and drag her palms down the hard planes of my bare chest.
Jeanie screams with embarrassment and taps her feet on the floor. The crowd laps up her ruffled responses. Cell phones around the club capture the moment. I allow everyone else to fade away as I focus on her.
Using the back of the chair for balance, I cartwheel over her shoulder and land straddling her lap. Now we’re face-to-face, inches apart, our gazes locked.
My pelvis hovers above hers, our chests parallel as I grind to the rhythm of the music. She grips the seat of her chair and her breathing hikes. I want to suck the air from her lungs in a consuming kiss, and I want her eager for the same.
I tug her to her feet and hold her hands above her head.
“Don’t move,” I tell her.
She rolls her raspberry-colored lips inward as I bury my nose between her tits and drag my face down her body, all the way to her pussy. She screams again, but this time her entire body trembles. Standing up, I grab her legs, lifting her from the floor. They circle my waist, locking in place while her arms drop over my shoulders.
“Oh my God,” she chokes out, panting when our foreheads touch.
It may be from the shock of the unexpected move, but it’s more likely my rigid cock pressed against her core. She probably hasn’t been properly fucked in years.
With a few subtle dance movements, she’s riding me in front of everyone, and they don’t even know. Her eyes roll back into her head. If I wanted, I could finish her in a few strokes.
“Hold tight,” I say, and her fingers lock behind my neck.
Gently, I lower Jeanie to the floor until she’s laid out. Her thighs spread wider and her dress hikes higher as I slide between them. Planked above, like I’m about to enter her, I roll my hips a few times, displaying all the sinful things I could do.
In time with the music, I hitch-kick off the floor and launch into the air in a body-wave motion before face-diving into her crotch, where my forehead grinds right above her sex.
Like a trap, her thighs snap closed around my head. I breathe heat into the spot that’s probably been dormant for years. I want her sweet little pearl to wake up and weep. I want it to cry with happiness that I’m here to shine it up like the jewel it is.
Jeanie cups her hands over her face and laughs. Though I’ve never taken a lap dance this far, with so much contact, I’ve come to know this expression well. She’s completely embarrassed and one thousand percent turned on. But she can’t say I didn’t warn her.
For the finale, I hook her legs over my shoulders, and I stand until she’s hanging upside down. With her back pressed against the length of my body, I spin. As I pick up momentum, her body lifts like a helicopter blade. She stretches out her arms as the club flies past. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying being pressed between her strong thighs in a new way.
With a few stealthy movements, I flip her ride-side up and she lands in my embrace with our cheeks pressed together. Our heavy breaths and wet lips are inches apart. She’s lucky I don’t ask to take her right here.
“That was ...” Words seem to escape her, and then her brows draw tight. “You told me you wanted to be a life coach.”
“Are you disappointed in my night job?” I laugh, neither confirming nor denying her accusation.
She hesitates a moment. “Disappointed wasn’t the word I was thinking.”
I slowly dirty-dance her to her chair with our bodies pinned together. Every single place we touch is a live wire. I’ve never been so turned on while dancing. It’s a miracle when I release her.
I step away. If I don’t, I may not be able to leave. Taking her hand in mine, I press a kiss on top, ending the dance how it started.
Glancing up at her from under my lashes, I study Jeanie with sudden concern when she’s unable to look me in the eye. Did I take this too far? There’s only one way to find out.
“Will you let me see you tomorrow?” I ask.