Back Room Ch. 03

"Dude! You should call her over and have her dance for us!" There was a chorus of resounding cheers and jibes from his supposed friends. He wanted to lay out the ringleader flat for that crack and it must have shown because most of the group lapsed into uncomfortable silence. "Cummon. We've had strippers, hell even whores, over before. What's so different now?"

"I'm dating her. That's what's different."

"So we wouldn't even have to pay her for it!" The stupid fucker was grinning ear to ear and suggesting that his girlfriend come over and give them all lapdances. The bastard couldn't get himself laid so he was probably even hoping he could finagle a deal for that too, like he had with strippers at private parties before.

His arm cocked back, fist clenched, muscles tense. Every other face looked horrified by the idiot's latest attempt. Jokes were alright but he'd gone too far and they all knew it. All except the dumbass himself. He took a deep breath, held it and released it slowly, letting his arm remain prepared to strike. Finally he relaxed it with a disgusted wave as he stormed out the door and into the warm night.

He'd had it with his supposed friends and their perpetual immaturity. Either he needed to find some new ones or break with her insistence that he spend at least one night a week 'with the guys'. Most nights he sat at home on his computer, watching TV or some similarly antisocial behavior. He understood the club's rule that boyfriends (and girlfriends for some) were permitted only a single night every week as patrons. They even tried to encourage this attendance on amateur night, the night their girls wouldn't be dancing, simply waiting tables. Unfortunately he was growing more and more distant from the pastimes and simple pleasures of his friends.

She adjusted her schedule to make sure she had at least one night off a week. The club hadn't liked that one bit but she insisted. He'd tried to talk her out of it briefly, insisting that her job was far more important than an evening with him. After all they could spend so much other time together. It took her a few days of explaining and assuring before he finally accepted and understood that she had needed a day off anyway, his presence simply being the catalyst that inspired her to stand up for herself.

She asked him once, after the wonderful first date, if he was uncomfortable with her dancing. He shrugged and admitted a little with private dances, but he trusted her implicitly that's all they were. Besides, a little jealousy was good for the soul. It helped to remind him of all he had to lose in her. He even went for another dance in the back room, although the two had to wait until after she got off work to vent their tension. Apparently the owners knew about the 'do not disturb' signal and insisted it never applied to boyfriends. More than one dancer had been surprised by a jealous, rather than horny, boyfriend and been injured on the job.

He swore that the sexual tension coursing through her only strengthened her dance that night. During the predictably, and insultingly, short dance some of the regular patrons had actually noticed her and tipped her as she danced, writhed and slithered across the stage and squirmed around the poles. Near the end of the dance he'd tipped her well himself and was surprised to find her thong soaked through and her muscles quivering from contact with the various poles. That had been another of their seemingly endless incredible nights together.

He smiled as he looked up and realized he was just about to pass her building on his way home. He decided to stop by. Likely she wouldn't be home, or at best was just about to head out to the club. Either way didn't bother him since he had nothing but time to kill and loved every moment, however brief, basking in her beauty.

He was up the stairs and into the building in moments, admitted by a resident on his way out. He started up the stairwell when the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. She veritably floated down the stairs in her short, forest green dress. With her hair pulled up, the sleeveless dress displayed her soft shoulders before dipping low to emphasize her perfect breasts. The design was cut such that he couldn't see her slight belly, but he didn't mind, his brain added all of the delightful details hidden underneath.

She stopped floating and stood at the top of the stairs staring back at him, her expression a mixture of the wondrous joy he felt upon seeing her and panicked concern that he wasn't where he should be. For a moment he feared she was cheating on him but the simple happiness he felt radiating from her disabused that notion. One thing was certain, that wasn't what she wore to work. Usually she threw on jeans or sweats and a t-shirt over whatever pair of lingerie she selected for the evening's dance. Everything else she needed was already at work. This was clearly party attire.

Before his beauty-addled mind could form words she succeeded. "What're you doing here? I thought tonight was 'guy's night'?"

A direct question, the best way to crack through a testosterone induced fog. "It is. I mean it was. Well, technically still is." Her arms crossed her chest unconsciously propping up her breasts. She tapped her foot, a bemused expression creeping onto her face. He still found himself babbling around her as his mind had done that first night when she entered the back room. He sighed and tried again. "It really isn't for me anymore. Hasn't been for a while now."

She smiled gently, as if humoring a child. "And what were they thinking of doing tonight?"

He couldn't meet her eyes, deciding on a half truth rather than the brutal facts. "They were talking about hiring a stripper."

"Or maybe a prostitute who sidelines as a stripper?"

"That wasn't exactly discussed but I got the feeling it was hoped for. Some of 'em at least." The end of his sentence turned into little more than a growl as he contemplated the bastard trying to paw and take advantage of her. He wasn't exactly the type who liked to hear 'no'. He finally looked up to bask in her smile once more. Embarrassed he added, "you know I never particularly cared for their idea of entertainment where women were involved."

Her smile turned mocking. "You seemed to enjoy it the last time they dragged you along." His eyes widened in shock. He tried to bluster a response but she burst out laughing, only making him more confused. Her smile returned to pity. "You're always so easy to fluster, love."

He blushed, looking away for a moment before he realized she was floating down the stairs to him. It was a sight he couldn't refuse. He loved her graceful movements, the way her curves seemed to flow back and forth with every step. She embodied the element of water, he realized. He couldn't help but think of making love with her, at times she rolled smoothly with his movements and sometimes she broke upon him, writhing and crashing in against him until he felt as if he'd never breath again.

Her hands came up to cup his heated cheeks. She leaned forward, the extra stair giving her height equal to his, to brush his lips with hers. His stomach knotted still, even after weeks with her. He still couldn't believe she found him interesting. Before he knew it she pulled away and was talking to him. "The club called. They wanted to try out a new girl tonight. So she can go on before the headliner. After all no experience is almost as good as a gut and no chest so they can afford to give her a short slot as an audition."

He cringed. He suspected the placement of her dances before the big name act was intentional, even guessing the reason, but it hurt to hear her put it so cruelly. "Love, you are gorgeous. You are real while they're nothing but pretense."

She waved it off, not looking the least bit upset. "I'm not belittling myself really. Just stating their business strategy. Every couple of months they find someone brand-spanking-new who 'just has to try' so they plug her in my spot. Unless she has skill it's a couple of minutes during which guys get to go to the bar. If she's got skill?" She shrugged. "Most of the porn-stars-pretending-to-be-dancers end up leaving in a huff one way or the other anyway. At least this way they discovered talent out of it."

She looked him up and down, eyeing his faded jeans, mangled 'rock band t-shirt' and torn trench-coat. "We'll stop at your place on our way so you can change." He started to ask where they were going but she grabbed his arm with both of hers and dragged him down the stairs and out the door. He wondered if he simply missed the cab sitting out front in his excitement or if it arrived while he was sputtering inside. She pulled him in and gave the driver his address.

"I figured you'd be out with the guys so I called my girl friends to find out what they were up to. Turns out my best friend was throwing a party at her place. Since you're free after all, so much the better. I can show you off." She added a wink to the last. She curled up, feet pulled under her in the back seat, as she clung to his arm and nuzzled against his skin. He smiled, feeling her silken cheek and leaned back to contemplate his outfit. Being honest with himself there really was very little selection to choose from.

Were it not for her weight anchoring him to the seat he would have jumped. He failed to notice when one of her hands slipped away until it absently massaged the slight bulge between his legs. He looked down in surprise to see her eyes closed in contentment as her hand seemed to caress him of its own accord. He pulsed once and his body shuddered with the unexpected sensation, causing her to open her eyes in surprise. She noticed where her hand rested and looked accusingly at him. He shook his head vigorously. Her eyes widened briefly before she began to laugh.

Her hand began to move with more determined intent as she continued to clutch his arm. He knew the game. They played occasionally on busses or in other public locations. The purpose was to see how worked up they could get each other before they got home at the end of the date. After the first date the two never repeated their 'public performance'. He still remained slightly embarrassed about that and hoped no one had stumbled upon them as they slept naked.

His hand began to snake under her to torment her hidden breasts. She released him long enough to slap his hand away lightly. Her eyes came up to meet his, a playful twinkle dancing within. So this was her game? Torment him mercilessly without any recourse or revenge? He returned her gaze with a lopsided smile. The night was young and he knew many ways to return the favor. He would have his turn discreetly antagonizing her where she could not reciprocate.

A few minutes later he thanked his luck that he lived close by as the cab pulled up to the curb. He strained so painfully against the fabric of his jeans that he practically jumped out of the cab before it stopped completely. She laughed at the sight as he leaned over to hand the driver some money through the window, carefully concealing the obvious bulge. When he started towards the door to his apartment building and she didn't follow he assumed he needed to be quick in changing.

He had to adjust himself numerous times, while traveling up the two flights of stairs to his apartment, as he began to shrink from lack of attention. As the strain began to lull he noticed a new discomfort. It was as if the blood draining from his length flooded his testicles building an unbearable pressure within. "Oh, she is SO going to pay for that." By the time he reached his apartment he was breathing heavily from the psychological strain.

Throwing open his closet door he quickly gathered his formal looking denim pants, a button-up shirt and a gold tie that caught the light perfectly against the rest of the black ensemble. In a minute he was changed and flying back down the stairs ignoring the pressure pounding against his frayed nerves. With that as a constant companion it was going to be a long night indeed.

Outside, she was leaning against the cab holding her arm up to track his progress on her watch. When he finally appeared she started tapping her foot. While her expression was dour there remained a playful twinkle in her eyes that let him know she wasn't serious. He stuck out his tongue in response as he skipped every other stair in his haste. As he slid past her, ducking into the car, she whispered in his ear. "Don't stick it out unless you intend to use it." This time he stuck it out and held it defiantly, eliciting a laugh. "I'll remind you of that later!"

They settled back into the uncomfortable seat and she gave the cabby the address. As she returned her attention to him a small whimper escaped her as she discovered his flaccid state. He growled out, "all the pressure went elsewhere!" She chuckled, either at his discomfort or the joke he wasn't sure but he glared at her lack of compassion. It was all her fault anyway.

As an apology, or perhaps an attempt to erase his frown, she leaned in to kiss him. His stomach fluttered and his heart raced as every ounce of passion shifting between them flooded into the kiss. He drank the warmth of her mouth, reveled in the press of her sweet lips and rejoiced in the dance of their tongues. When she pulled back, far too soon, she leaned in to whisper in his ear again. "I love it when you dress up."

"Same to you. That dress is absolutely stunning on you." She blushed. He leaned forward for another delicious kiss when she stopped him short. His breath caught again as she held then began to message him once more, more vigorously than before. Frozen as he was by the sudden turn he couldn't resist when she lightly pushed him to lean back against the seat.

His heart and lungs began working an eternal instant later but she once again held the strength of initiative. In moments the strain against his pants rivaled the earlier pressure still built within his need. He closed his eyes to focus all his concentration on resisting the impending explosion. "Stop. Please, stop." Slightly to his surprise she did.

He waited, letting his breathing and heart slow as he slowly avoided the messy consequences of her torture. Basic functions under control at last he felt himself pulse with the first frustration of fresh shrinking. Then her hand was there, and worse only a single layer of fabric resisted her. He was fully, unbearably, hard in an instant.

His eyes flew wide to see her reaching inside the zipper she discreetly opened. Before he could protest her hand slipped under the folds of his boxer-briefs to clutch his length. The warmth of her hand brought him closer once more as the unbelievable roller-coaster of hormones she inspired soared back upwards. He yelped quietly as his flesh scraped against the rough zipper when she brought him through the various layers of fabric.

He was panting in time with her slow, gentle strokes. She knew him well enough now to draw forth his lust and keep him near the edge without bringing him closer. Her weight shifted until she knelt in the wells between the back and front seats. His eyes flashed in horror and embarrassment to the rear-view mirror only to relax slightly witnessing the driver's concentration deliberately on the road ahead. She set this up while I changed! The realization struck suddenly, sending him even closer to the edge. She looked up in surprise grinning.

She leaned forward and he shuddered in anticipation. Although she took him into her mouth frequently, as her preferred method to torment him hard, she had never finished him with the method. He often speculated the only reason guys sought it as the end-all-be-all of sex was because so many woman preferred not to do it. A kiss at the very tip of his head brought him crashing back to reality.

She pulled away and began to unroll a condom down his length. His confusion grew as he noticed the wrapper, standard not flavored. She reached the bottom as his lust fogged mind came to the inevitable, if unbelievable, conclusion. Her body lifted quickly, knees sliding across the seat to press against his hips. Her hips crashed forward, sending her knees up his sides slightly as she thrust herself around him.

The pressure surged within, sending a wave of sensation cascading throughout his body. Somehow she managed to pull herself free in the awkward position to throw herself onto him once more. She pushed against him, her weight preventing him motion as she began to beat a fierce pleasure into his body with her hips. In moments he was at the edge pulsing and twitching beyond restraint or control. Nothing could hold it off.

She pulled herself free, her head flying forward to capture him in a desperate kiss, and sheathed him once more in her warm glory. Time, thought, motion, sensation, all ceased. For the brief instant he floated in eternity. The world crashed back as she pulled herself free. Every muscle in his body cried out in desperation as she mercilessly rode him. He was beyond caring, beyond needing, he simply was as he became nothing more than a mass of stressed nerves singing in ecstasy.

He lost track of how long she rode him past his pleasure into the state where it became too much to handle. Euphoria merged with torment once more as he begged her to stop. She grinned and pressed on harder, riding him into and through a second orgasm even before the first fully subsided.

Finally as he whimpered, nerveless and weak on the seat, she slowed and stopped. As she collapsed against his chest he noticed her breath only slightly sped. She never came close to her own finish but drove him ever onward through it all. He had to know. He barely managed to whisper, "why?"

She leaned forward, intentionally clenching the muscles that held him still and causing him to writhe again in aftershock. "You promised me later. I just wanted a guide mark for you to shoot for." She bit his earlobe before leaning back. Suddenly her expression turned serious, almost sad. "Besides, sometimes I feel the need to remind you what I have to offer." He breathed deeply with no way to respond. He still couldn't understand what she saw in him.