0 comments/ 30681 views/ 0 favorites Private Dance By: intriguess I hear the shower going and smile. I know you had long day out biking with a friend and are probably tired but hopefully not too tired. I slip into a long flannel shirt only bothering to do up a few of the buttons spending the time combing my long soft thick hair. Dabbing a little perfume on and putting some music on. As I hear the shower stop I think of you dripping wet and rubbing yourself dry with the towel seeing you glance in the mirror as you comb your hair. My hands running anxiously over my body as I sit on edge of bed in plain view of the bathroom door. Hearing it finally open your body filling the doorway the towel casually draped over your hips. I resist the urge to run to you and let my hands move up over your chest and attack your lips with my own. I stand moving slowly to the music playing with the shirt tails agonizingly slow. As I undo the few buttons playfully flashing one side then the other seeing you mesmerized I let shirt slip off my shoulders and pull it tighter a shy tease. My simple white bra showing and you wonder if I am wearing any panties. I let the shirt drop lower letting my fingers dance across my neck and exposed breasts. I turn around letting shirt slowly drift to the ground my hair covering my behind. I turn quickly my hair a cloud concealing my skin. I walk towards you as your eyes are locked on mine and when are bodies barely make contact I back away and turn around. You watch my hands slide up my back to undo my bra you manage to whisper, "Let me." Your hands sliding slowly up my back feeling my body sway as you undo the clasps. I turn back around cupping my bra to my chest. "Sit down," I softly command. You are so compelled to obey you almost sit on floor before your mind clears to think of sitting on the bed. The bra drops and you watch as my hair brushes over my soft warm breasts the dark nipples puckering from sudden exposure and caresses. I see you lick your lips and slowly move towards you, sitting in your lap holding your shoulders. I toss my hair back letting my body speak for itself. Planting a soft sensuous kiss as my body moves against yours with the soft music. Kissing my way down your neck a soft smile forming as I notice your towel has slipped to show your desire. I decide not to move the towel instead taking your hands and guiding them up the sides of my body to cup my breasts silently asking you to participate. As if I suddenly set you free, your lips slide slowly down teasing my nipples one hand going down determined to answer the panty question. The music has stopped, but a soft rain patters on the window the natural rhythm urging us both on the air charged. I squirm a bit as your questing hand finds that I am indeed bare bottomed, a rare event for me. I'm slightly tense with anticipation and it takes your fingers longer than usual to work their magic. A roll of thunder covers my moans, the staccato of the rain a steady driving sound primitive and sensual. My hands somewhat unsteady slide down your chest bringing your eyes to look at mine. You almost by reflex bring your wet fingers up and slowly suck on them as my hands hit the towel. My fingers shake and I kneel giving room to remove the towel and in one awkward moment pull it away. The motion causing us to tumble back on the bed with you on top. My heart seem to be pounding in time with the rain and I pull your face to mine the slow kiss sweet and making my desire much more obvious to myself. We've shared few words but I want to have you now in the most carnal way yet not. My eyes look away wondering how to say it. Your lips are already kissing their way down to have a closer taste. My legs cross making you look suddenly and slightly confused up. "You can clean up later," the words are soft and sensuous the next words are almost harsh with lust and longing. "I want you now," the emphasis on the words making my point. Private Dance From the stage I can see all the way to the back of the smoky club. Scan the blank, bored faces of the customers; old, dried up men feebly sipping overpriced, watered down drinks in a strip bar on a Tuesday afternoon. The music in the background is deafening, the volume increased to compensate for the lack of conversation. I gyrate my hips in time with the throbbing bass, hands complicit in a crude pantomime of masturbation; a black g-string barely covers my crotch and fully exposes my ass. Swiftly remove the skimpy undergarment to the cackling delight of a vaguely familiar toothless man with a patchy white beard. I flash a hollow smile of acknowledgment at him. Cheap bastards never pay much at this time of day, but one can always hope. I writhe on the floor spastically; legs spread wide open, totally displaying the smooth pink lips of my cunt. The remains of my costume are scattered in various places on the stage; all I leave on is my tall black leather boots, a black lace choker clamped tight around my neck and a pair of black silk gloves that cover my forearms. I never remove the gloves. As I straddle the pole, I spot him, hidden away at a small table beside a support beam. His shoulder length hair is jet black, tied back in a ponytail. A tight olive green sweater shows off his broad chest well. Deep blue eyes obscured by wire rim glasses penetrate my skull. Feel my skin flush bright pink; nearly trip over my heels. His gaze never wavers. I move through my third song with renewed intensity; every movement is subtly injected with the slow heat of my desire. Stroke my large breasts delicately with my hands, teasing my full, red nipples to erection. I slide to the edge of the stage on my hands and knees, the submissive pose an offering especially for him. He grins enigmatically. I have to meet him. My set finally ends. I gather my outfit together and exit the stage. I feel his perceptive stare burning through the back of my head as I make my way towards the washroom, slicing past the next dancer like a blade. Need to fix myself up a little bit before I can summon the nerve to speak to him; a little narcotic courage usually helps. Rick waves at me from behind the bar. His shaved head reflects the flashing lights like a mirror. I smile wearily without stopping; my feet hurt and I really have to piss. I make it to the stall and plop down unceremoniously on the cold toilet. Relief washes over me; I held that in for too long. As I sit on the throne my thoughts drift back to my set, to the man in the green sweater. I have never been attracted to a customer before, yet I find myself drawn almost magnetically to him. Want to feel the delightful pressure of his lips on mine, his body slamming hard against my pelvis. My right hand drifts south, attentively stroking the tender folds of my labia. Insert one silk-encased finger, then another, causing me to gasp softly. Someone enters the bathroom, jolting me out of my erotic trance. I flush and proceed to get dressed. Open the door and walk to the white ceramic sinks. Ginger is leaning over the basin beside me, touching up her eye make-up. Her long copper hair is held back by a purple scrunchie. 'Hey girl,' she says, cocking one eyeball in my direction while applying mascara. Her supple hands are surgeon steady, experienced. 'Hey.' I dig in my handbag; pull out a small brass mirror, a razor blade and a plastic dime bag half filled with cocaine. Set the equipment on the counter; meticulously cut two huge rails. I offer Ginger one, but she declines. Pull a crumpled five from inside my boots; roll it into a tight cylinder. Snort up one line from the mirror, then another in the opposite nostril. Warm ice slides down my spine; my mind expands, clarifies as my face goes numb. 'Do you always do so much at once?' Ginger asks absently. She already knows the answer. My habits are notorious amongst the other girls. 'My feet are killing me,' I say; lean up against the sink to rub one foot. Ginger smiles as I place my paraphernalia back in my bag. Check my nose in the mirror for any remains. Clean as a whistle. 'When are you on 'til?' Ginger's innocent question startles me. Nearly drop my handbag. 'Eleven.' 'Are you okay?' I pause before answering, nervously readjusting my skirt hem. 'I'm fine,' I say, the response more terse than intended. Imagine his strong hands yanking my hair, forcing my mouth down onto his cock and choking me with warm salty cum. I feel the familiar wetness of arousal soak my panties. A strange sense of anticipation tingles my flesh. I shiver as we exit the washroom together. I'm not usually anxious while working; maybe it's the coke. The music is slow, sinister, with a rumbling distorted beat. The vibrations permeate my body, skin pulsating in rhythm with the bass. Ginger wanders off into the depths of the club; a thick young man in a purple football jersey approaches her. They talk for a few moments before heading off together in the direction of the private booths. I saunter over to the bar with languid ease. Rick already has a double rye and ginger waiting for me. Swiftly down half the glass in one swallow. I feel electric, predatory like a hungry lioness. Peek back towards the stage to see who's presently dancing. A short blond in white hot pants and a spandex crop top flounces around awkwardly, her belly swollen with pregnancy. She told me her name yesterday, but I forget it now. Must not have been very original. Rick grins at me tightly, casually wiping condensation and spilled beer off the bar. 'One of those days?' I gulp back the rest of my drink before replying. 'It's always one of those days.' Rick laughs roughly, his guffaws swallowed by nasty coughing. He shuffles off to tend to a customer. I glance around the club, vainly attempting to catch a glimpse of the man in the green sweater. Can't see him anywhere. Fuck. 'You dance beautifully.' The voice is sensual, thick and creamy like warm caramel. I pivot slowly, already knowing it was him that spoke to me. He is taller than me, but not by much. 'Thank you,' I say; hope he didn't hear my voice crack. 'My name is John.' 'Noelle.' John takes one gloved hand within his own, brings it to his lips and kisses it tenderly. I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin through the flimsy material; my body trembles with restless delight. 'Why do you wear gloves?' Oh shit. 'Would you like a private dance?' The offer blurts out too quickly, makes me appear overeager. I hide my obvious discomfort by squeezing John's well-defined forearm suggestively. He nods slightly. The sounds of the club seem muted, a distant memory. All I am aware of is the musky fragrance of John's cologne, the mesmerizing effect of his eyes. John and I make our way to a booth, arm in arm. Thick blue shag carpeting blankets the floor. Brass table lamps cast a dim glow over the diminutive cubical. Sit down beside each other on a blood red plush loveseat. We are separated by only several inches of space; seems like a small chasm. I ask John for the money. He digs into the front pocket of his tan cargo pants, pulls out a crisp twenty, neatly folded in two. As he passes the bill to me, our fingers momentarily touch; my hand jumps away from his as if scalded. 'Did I do something wrong?' The note of confusion in John's steady, certain voice seems out of place, unwelcome. I silence it, placing one fingertip over his lips. A new song begins, the second of the current dancer's set. I stand up suddenly, towering over John. Bend forward slowly, teasing his chiseled jaw with my thick mane of auburn hair. I brush my tits against his chest, sliding down to his crotch. John's cock is rigid, rock hard against my soft breasts; the large tent in his pants gives an indication of its ample size. On my knees my power feels reduced, the tension thick as fog. Thin fabric and a zipper are the only obstacles keeping me from swallowing his engorged member, enveloping it between my lips, my teeth. My breathing begins to quicken. Slither up his torso like a snake, blowing lightly on his neck along the way. I pull away, turning my back to John. Slowly unhook the clasp of my black leather bustier, carelessly dropping it to the floor. Heart is beating like a trip-hammer, clit rock hard, painfully aroused. I am dangerously close to climaxing; he hasn't even tried to touch me. I straddle John's leg, grinding my cunt hard into his thigh. Lean back into the cradle of his torso. John's body is tense with obvious restraint. Grab his left hand, firmly placing it on my right breast. He kneads the soft tissue savagely, pinching my nipple with vicious enjoyment. My body shudders as my pussy spasms with an orgasm, drenching his pant leg. I drop myself onto John's crotch, rubbing my ass over his rod. His hips thrust into me aggressively, almost knocking the wind out of me. I hike up my leather mini-skirt, revealing the twin orbs of my backside. His palms caress the marble smooth flesh, coaxing a throaty purr from me; I arch my back like a cat. John's fingers dig sharply into my flesh. I cry out in delicious pain; a warm trickle of blood flows down my ass. I am overcome with the desire to touch him, skin to skin, our sweat intermingling. I want him to hold my hands, kiss my bare palms, but the silk holds razor sharp memories. The air is crisp with electricity; the erotic charge sends sparks up my spine, into my brainstem. Feel the soft fabric of my gloves sliding down my forearms, exposing the scarred tissue beneath. Jagged wounds glare menacingly upward. My youth was spent repeatedly cutting the meat, almost to the bone; embroidered my frustration on my arms with a small metal jackknife. I was desperate to make myself weep, scream, experience some kind of sensation beyond the bitter turmoil in my head. My skin is a tapestry of self-loathing that constantly haunts me, like a revenant. I can't breath; I feel naked. John intently strokes the rough surface of my wrists with his fingertips, as if reading braille. Tugs on one glove, yanks it off completely. It drops lifelessly to the floor, like discarded skin. I can't bring myself to look back at him, to see his face contorted in mute revulsion at the brutal slashes that criss cross my forearm. I've seen that shadow of disgust gloss over people's eyes many times. 'You are so beautiful.' The incredulous warmth in John's voice melts away insecurity. I peel off the other glove, the cool air tingling my flesh like a static charge. The coarse stubble on his chin scrapes against my shoulders. Shut my eyes tight, imagining his head between my thighs, cheeks scouring the tender skin like sandpaper. John continues to caress my arms, his long fingers creating gentle friction. His hips grind insistently against my ass; he's nearing climax, and I am not far behind. My entire body begins to smolder from John's sweet attention, sweat glistening in the hazy light. Our bodies mould together like wet clay. I feel John's body tighten, the intensity of his orgasm evident. My eyes water, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I restrain a wail of ecstatic release, my pelvis rocking brutally against John's softening erection. The last song ends. My next set begins in a few minutes. As we exit the booth and re-enter the club, I drop the gloves on the sticky floor. John encases my hand in his. I pull away before he can say anything we'll both regret the next day. I hate empty promises, hollow expectations. I don't look back as I make my way back towards the stage; I know he's still standing there, I can feel it. Private Dance This is my true sensual story about one of my first visits to a "Gentleman's Club." If you're looking for raw sex, it's not here; but, if you want to a springboard for your erotic fantasy, then I'm happy to be of assistance. This is dedicated to Nate: "Thank you for reminding me to keep it real and for doubling my love circle." ************** Her name is Shelby. She has long legs and curvy hips, plus full natural breasts. She makes you think she is dancing just for you. I have been watching, enjoying the sights and thrills for about an hour now. My husband is sitting next to me, reminding me of the typical routine of how things "work" at a strip club. Then seemingly out of no where, she stepped on stage. My back arches, my breasts rise...instantly I'm wet. How did she do this to me? I whisper to Theo, "Her. I want her." He encourages me to go up and sit at the stage where I can get the best view. The closest view. He hands me numerous single dollars. "I don't know. I'm nervous. Where do I put the dollars, I ask him?" "You can put them in her g-string," he instructs from his obvious experience. I hesitate. I'm losing time because each stripper is only on stage for 2 songs at a time. So, I take a swig of 'reinforcement' beer and a deep breath while walking forward. I settle down, put my purse on the small bar-like table in front of me and take another swig. Why am I so nervous? I have been to a strip club Once or twice before with Theo. We found it to be erotic foreplay and couldn't wait to get home. Those first experiences lead to fantastic sex and therefore we definitely wanted to repeat them. But tonite is strangely different. Because... she's here, Shelby's here. Damn, she's gorgeous. Shelby sees me and flashes this heavenly smile. I melt. She's on all fours slowly writhing, grinding for all to enjoy in perfect time with the sensual beat. I'm perfectly happy that the DJ chose a slower melody for her to dance to on this set. I realize she's crawling towards me. Oh god, my heart races and I get wetter, soaking my new black lace panties. Shelby is just 3 feet away now. I think, if I reach out and lean over just a bit... so that my breasts would press into the metal bar encircling the stage...then I could touch her flesh. I realize, with a spark, that I WANT to feel how soft she is; but, of course I don't do it. I'm too damn shy, why am I so timid? I'm never this shy in my "day-life" but she has me all discombobulated. I turn toward Theo again and smile. I need him to give me moral support. He does so by smiling back. No, actually he is smirking at me, enjoying my discomfort. He takes a gulp of his beer to hide his forthcoming chuckle. Theo knows me all too well and knows how nervous I am, but also ho strangely excited too. He had lovingly watched me change my undergarments and clothes multiple times before deciding on one my final choice at home. He waves his hand at me flippantly, gesturing to me to go on and enjoy the sights, sounds, smells and maybe even the touch. I turn back around. Shelby is right there. She slowly turns over with her legs spread wide and begins to girate. She is just inches away from me and I can even smell her musky sweet aroma. She is working hard so her skin glistens with sweat. My hand shakes as I lift it to place some some dollars next to her thigh flesh. I brush the skin and sigh as I register it's velvety softness. Another smile curves at her lips, so sincere and genuine. Shelby moves her body so elegantly that it's mesmerizing. I don't even remember her moving and now I have to shake my head a bit to clear it because she's waiting for me to respond. She had asked me a question. Shelby realizes that I haven't heard her and says again, "I like your purse." Girl talk. Simple, easy. No pressure, so why can't I respond? I make a quick smile and gulp before responding, "Thanks." Nothing else comes out. Really, is that all I've got? I take a deep breath and slowly place some dollars in her g-string around her hip. Her eyes drop and they land on my cleavage, which I'm Now glad that I've purposely displayed. She's still moving, changing, shifting...I notice a small splatter of freckles across her chest. It makes her more real to me for some strange reason. My chest is right at the metal barrier bar and her hand is now there too. She lifts her eyebrows and looks deep into me as if asking, "May I?" I blush but lift my breasts slightly so they are within her reach and she does touch, actually squeezes. Electricity runs through me and out my toes. I sigh and she moves again. This time, gently caressing down my shoulder and arm while holding her hand over mine for a few more seconds. Brief moments, but they are powerful, wonderful. Shelby turns again but as she removes her hand it seems like she flicks her finger over my ring, my wedding band. She moves to the customer near me, always smiling while still seemingly connected to me through her, albeit less direct, stare. I rise and dreamily stride over to Theo while sliding into a retro swivel chair. He smiles at me and asks if I'm having fun. I have barely started to answer when I feel her presence, her heat beside me. She leans over me but looks at Theo and asks him if she can give me a private lap dance. He eagerly nods his consent. Shelby grabs our hands, one in each of hers and leads us to a back room. Entering the back room, she guides us to these makeshift loveseats with small wooden partitions between each one. Shelby gently pushes me into the soft cushions of one and motions for Theo to sit in another seat that's perpendicular to ours, for a good view. She then straddles her long, toned legs over me, sitting on my thighs. I shudder slightly. My hands grip the cushions. I'm so wet that I can feel it build in between my legs. The music builds as she moves her body near mine, less than an inch away. I can feel her heat radiate off of her skin. She leans in and whispers to me, "It's okay if you touch me. They don't mind the women touching." I place my hand on her thigh and slowly trace up her hip and rest it on her waist. Shelby is so smooth and full of luscious curves and now I'm even wetter. How could I be wetter? I recline into the cushions even further so that I nearly lying flat as if on a bed. Shelby moves above me, grinding into me while mimicking my hand movements on my body. She has her face in front of mine, our eyes lock while her hair falls down and caresses my cheek. I can feel her hot breath as I watch her lick her lips. They are full and pouty with a glittery pink lipstick glistening them to a shine. My heart is racing and I am transfixed on her mouth. I take in a sudden gasp as I feel her caressing my breasts. She is slowly kneeding and pressing into them. I was torn by so many sensations when IT happened. Her mouth was on mine. The kiss is delicate at first but then I open my lips slightly and her tongue touches mine. This sweet, sweet kiss was unbelievably warm and wet. My response is deep, kissing back harder and with urgency. Her body didn't stop moving. She was grinding in slow circles now while pressing onto my body. I realize I'm purring with this erotic sound of pure pleasure. The intensity rises as I feel that intense sensation before an orgasm deep in your loins. I know I won't climax but this overwhelming sensation envelopes and consumes me. She looks into my soul with her green eyes. Slowly she is parting, the song is closing and I feel her pull away. I don't want this to end and she senses this as well, pressing her full body into mine onch more while asking me, "Was it good for you?" I nod my consent, my voice has left me again. She turns towards Theo and smiles a wide grin. He stands to pay her and I watch their brief verbal exchange. I'm locked, unable to move as if floating above myself. Shelby drifts from the room and he walks over to me. Theo offers his hand to assist me in standing. My legs are like jello. I grasp hold of him and steady myself into his strong frame. I find my voice and ask him, "Did you see her kiss me?" "What?! No Damn! Her hair must of been blocking my view. Fuck, I would have loved to see that!" He shook his head in obvious dismay. I rose to my tiptoes, placed my arms his neck and whispered, "Please take me home and fuck me until morning? " We were out the door within a minute...