“Would you like a dance?”
He nodded. He never spoke. Never said even a single word to me over the months we’d done this same dance. He’d spoken to the bartender at the club a few times – I’d asked – but other than that, not a word.
I took his hand and led him past more customers and into the champagne rooms. I took the one on the back left, our usual spot. The room was slightly brighter than the club, mirrors lined the walls and a pole was in the middle, surrounded by a small platform. There were two small couches, both made of leather or something like it. Easy to wipe off.
I walked to the music station hidden in the mirrored wall and picked a song with a slow, sensual beat. He sat, his legs spread apart and his hands on his knees. He never stopped watching me. I’d realized over our time together that the mirror was never enough for him. He wanted to see me at all times.
My pussy was already wet, like it always was when he came to call.
I swayed my hips to the music before turning to face him. He feasted on me with his gaze. Up, down, tits, pussy, face. He was hungry for all of it. I ran my hands down my body as I danced, pausing at my nipples and tweaking them through the fabric. He licked his lips. I slid my hands lower, caressing my sides, my stomach before I went even lower, rubbing my thighs and the slip of fabric between my legs.
I put a heel onto the platform and grabbed the pole. He took in his breath sharply when I stepped up, my legs spread for the briefest moment. Did he see my pink? By the way he was fisting his hands, I suspected so. I smiled down at him and unhooked the back of my bra. His gaze was rapt. Still moving, shaking my tits along to the music, I slipped the bra off.
“You like that, baby?” I asked. He remained silent, so I teased him with my words right along with my body.
He moved his hands further up his thighs, gripping his legs and easing closer and closer to the bulge in his pants. I turned away from him and bent over, dropped it down and then back up again. I peeked over my shoulder. He was looking at my pussy so hard it was like he thought he could will the g-string off me. His two fingers were in the air again, demanding I come to him.
“You want me?” I put one hand between my legs and ran my fingers down the drenched fabric.
His two fingers again. This time more insistent. He drove me wild with that shit, but I wanted those two fingers somewhere other than in the air.
I stood back up and turned before dropping down to the floor. I took the two steps to him and got on my knees. I leaned forward and placed my face directly over his cock. My mouth watered. I could see the imprint of the head through his dark slacks. What would he taste like?
“What I wouldn’t give for just a little lick.”
His hips jerked slightly at my words, moving his cock even closer to my face before he settled back down. He looked down at me so intensely it was almost a scowl.
I pushed against him and lifted myself off my knees, brushing my tits along his cock before straddling him. I was enveloped in his scent, familiar and delicious. He’d moved his hands to the side, palms flat on the black leather. He followed the club rules to a fault.
I rose and fell against his cock, not caring that my panties were soaked and leaving darker marks along his pants. I looked into his brilliant green eyes as I smoothed my body against his, up and down to the pounding rhythm. He had a dark shadow along his cheeks. I wondered what that stubble would feel like against my thighs. I moaned at the thought. His hips jerked again.
His gaze flicked to my too-red lips. I let my tongue play along them, giving him ideas of how soft and wet I was. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
He fisted his hands again. I was bringing him close to the edge. He practically vibrated with tension. I flipped around so that my ass was against him. I worked up and down and lay with my back to his chest. I was desperate for him to touch me, to simply reach up and cup my breasts. The thought sent a buzz of heat straight to my pussy, making it clench. I arched even more, keeping my ass tightly against him as I worked his cock.
I laid my head against his shoulder and turned to look at him. His gaze was on my tits and lower before he came back to me, back to my eyes. His eyes said everything his mouth wouldn’t. How he was fucking me in his mind, the same as I was doing to him. I wanted him buried deep in my pussy. It pulsed at the thought.