by Nora Flite
Right?
The decorated house was in one of the fanciest neighborhoods I'd ever had the pleasure of strolling into. There were kids toys in some front yards, mailboxes with tiny flags. A sparkly Santa sticker on the house proclaiming “HoHoHo” shined in the light of my bike as I parked it.
Up and down the curb were rows of expensive cars. Unless I was wrong, I was about to entertain a packed house.
This might be interesting, I thought with a quick grin.
My knuckles tapped next to the glittery fat-man, louder than the music inside. Christmas was a few weeks off, but these people were partying it up. That was good. I made more money when women were drunk.
I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door burst open, hitting me with unfiltered laughter and squeals. Standing there was a short girl, her brunette hair wound into two braids. Lots of earrings, skinny as a rail, and she smelled a bit like cheap vodka. I'd have said she wasn't my type, except—honestly?
Every girl is my fucking type.
“Hello there,” I said smoothly, wearing my nicest grin. “I believe I'm looking for a birthday girl. Is that you, sugar?”
I watched the way she hesitated, taking me in—my tight jeans, my fitted grey shirt under an open black jacket—before that familiar heat tinged her eyes. Yeah, she liked what she saw.
Her lashes fluttered, body leaning forward to show me deeper inside her crop-top. “God, I wish I was. You're Huxton, right?”
“That's me.” Lifting my bag, I looked over her head into the house. “How many of you ladies are in there having fun tonight? And how dare you start without me.” I winked, feeling optimistic.
Arching away so I could enter the home, the brunette with her pouting lips and hungry gaze giggled; high pitched, super fake. “I'm Janet. I think there's twelve, including Zoe—it's her birthday.”
Zoe. Cute name. I prayed it fit her. “Should I go say hi, or do you want me to get set-up first?” I asked, peering around the entryway. The house was big, streamers stuck on the walls and voices murmuring down the hall. I was eager to get to the action.
“Uh, what do you need to get set-up?”
I waved my bag. “A room I can put my radio in, for after. Could you go play this CD where the girls are?” Handing her the disc, I ran my fingers over my skull.
Janet followed the movement, maybe wondering how my rich black hair would feel in her hands. “Sure, yeah.” Shaking herself awake, she pointed at a bedroom. “You can put everything in Eliza's room. Is that where you'll be doing...?”
“Private dances, yes ma’am.” My teeth flashed. “Let's not keep everyone waiting. I bet they're as eager as you are.”
Her blush was delicious. “I—uh. Right! I'll go put this on. See you in a few minutes.” She swayed down the hall, wiggling her hips extra hard. She wanted me to stare at her ass. Of course, I was happy to. I'd bet money that even if no one else bought a private dance tonight, Janet would be an eager customer.
I dropped my bag in the bedroom, setting the small radio up in the corner. It was a cramped space, but for a personal show, I could have performed in a closet if I had to.
On a desk, I spotted a framed photo of Eliza. Her rich, oil-slick hair hung down over the pretty pink sweater she wore. If that was a recent photo, she hadn't changed a bit. Her location sure had, though.
Last I'd known, Eliza had been living in a tiny apartment. Whatever she was doing now, she'd upgraded her life a few notches.
Checking my phone, I eyed the email she'd sent me. Pleasantries and all that, then the real information. Eliza had requested a specific outfit for her friend. Not my favorite, but I was here to please.
Changing quickly, I caught the heavy emptiness of the music stopping. Then, outside, my first song began. The beat started slow, the rhythm building. It was time.
Even if I didn't dance much anymore, I still loved performing. It never failed to get my heart thrumming. Stepping into the hall, I adjusted my new jacket—my red tie—and strolled towards the fun. It was easy to find my targets, the girls were a tornado of noise. The second I rounded the corner, entering that dimmed room packed with wide-eyed women, they turned their excitement up a notch.
Oh yes. This was what I adored.
“Hey there,” I chuckled, dragging my fingers down the front of my jacket. “Sorry if I kept you ladies waiting.” Decked out like a billionaire entrepreneur, I was the man you saw in a Business magazine, or who you stared at from afar as he guided his Corvet down the street. Money. Power. Fantasy.
The group was made up entirely of women. That was good. There was usually one fucking guy who couldn't stand that someone else was getting all the attention. It always ended in hurt feelings, and once or twice there was a bloody nose involved. Never mine, though.
Raking my eyes across the room, I judged each of them—tried to grasp who they were and what they would like. Tall, curvy, blonde or even blue haired... I didn't care. I loved them all, and my cock loved them even more.
Eliza was standing to one side, her eyes narrowed in that knowing way of hers. She lifted a hand, waved subtly. We'd talk when things calmed down.
Popping my top button, I revealed some of the cream-colored undershirt. “My name is Huck.” They parted for me like a river while I swayed closer to the center. “And while all of you are beautiful, I'm looking for a certain someone.” Slowing down, I rocked my hips. Every set of eyes jumped down to my zipper, so fucking eager. I whispered, “The birthday girl.”
A giggle, a nervous titter. Turning, I spotted Janet. She was pointing at someone sitting in a chair. They'd set her up for me, an offering on a platter.
Conveniently, I was ravenous.
I should have spotted her initially, but she'd been hiding behind the standing bodies. They moved away, revealing the woman and her gaudy plastic crown that read the number 'twenty-two' in glittering silver.
She was the opposite of the adornment; bare of makeup and nothing sparkly. A simple white dress, copper-red hair. The picture of innocence.
Contagious energy threaded the air. The party-goers were living vicariously through their friend. She was wide-eyed and pink as a rose. I loved it, I wanted to see what colors the other parts of her body would turn.
Rolling my torso, I moved fluidly until I stood over her. “Guess you're the one I'm looking for.” Her eyes were frozen and unblinking. I could see my smiling face in her pupils. “What's your name, love?”
I knew it was Zoe, but I wanted to ease her into this situation. She wasn't giggling like her friends. Hearing her own voice should help break the ice.
“Uh, I'm Zoe.” Lowering her eyebrows, she shot a glare at Eliza and tugged the crown off of her head. “You don't need to do this. Go dance for someone else, I'm not—”
“Booo!” Eliza shouted, the others picking up the vibe. “This is your birthday gift! You can't back down!”
Dropping the crown to the floor, Zoe scrunched into her chair. “It's just not my thing,” she said softly, apologizing to me. Her nails gripped the edge of her seat, ready to break the wood.
I'd handled shy girls before. This didn't concern me. Cupping her cheek, I winked. “Don't worry, I won't be rough. I'll only do things that you'll like.” Her skin was porcelain, tiny freckles I wanted to lick.
She shivered under me, lost in the sea of screaming voices. I wasn't lying, I would only do what she liked...
I was just confident she'd love everything I did before this was over.
The music dropped, then picked up in tempo. Grinning, I leaned away and fingered my tie. The hush of anticipation grew, punctuated by the occasional whistle. My jacket was peeled away, the first thing to go—I was too warm to wear it any longer.
Bit by bit, I pulled my shirt open until the deep grooves of my stomach showed. I was a road map of tattoos, a variety show for those who were into that. It spoke about who I was, how pain meant nothing. Their yearning stares said they approved.
Zoe sat up, darting her attention over
my marked flesh. Minutes ago she'd looked on the verge of disgust. The more of my carved skin that I displayed, the more she watched with rapt fascination.
Maybe Eliza got it wrong, I wondered, loosening the tie around my throat. The business look isn't Zoe's thing. This girl...
I think she likes it fucking wild.
Now I was grinning. I dug a woman who was spellbound by tattoos and raw grit. If that was Zoe, then perfect. I'd figured her out. I knew what to do next.
Draping the shirt over my shoulders, I let it hang. Fingers tugged at my belt buckle, the metal clinking; a few girls licked their lips.
Rolling like an ocean wave, I hypnotized Zoe from the moment the top button of my pants opened. It took a full second for the zipper to part over each single metal tooth. Nobody was breathing. They were under my spell.
The very top of my black briefs peeked into view. Painstakingly slow, I inched my pants down further. The hard lines of my lower stomach led the eye naturally. Zoe was caught. She was no longer the sweet, blushing bride. Those blue eyes were starving.
She wiggled in her chair. Impatience was her new friend. Smirking sharply, I purposefully adjusted my firming cock through my underwear. The crowd gasped and shrieked and giggled. I expected her to do the same.
Zoe lifted her eyes and met mine. There was no flinching, no blinking. This girl was fucking serious and it threw me off. My composure never broke, but I grabbed myself a second time. The new rush of arousal wasn't under my control.
Okay. Zoe was suddenly very interesting.
Normally, in this kind of environment, the girl getting the dance in front of her friends always ended up laughing and squealing. They covered their eyes, or they grabbed at me and put on a show for the other women.
This red-head, she was holding still but her energy was sizzling. The nails on her hands no longer dug into the chair. They rested on her thighs, slightly curled and occasionally flexing. She was fighting with herself. Zoe wanted to touch me and was holding back. Well. I couldn't allow that.
Reaching down, I scooped up her wrist and guided her to my stomach before she could react. Her palm was silky, gliding easily over the ridges of muscle. Never taking my stare off of hers, I took Zoe's fingers on a journey from my hipbone, to my sternum, then back down again.
She held steady, and that actually started to bother me. I wanted a reaction. I was eager to watch this woman go from stoic to shivering. Narrowing my eyes, I jerked her hand and used it to slide my pants completely down my thighs. Around us, the party was a wave of cheers.
Zoe blinked at the shape of my full erection through my tight briefs. Maybe she was the one daring me, but I didn't care. I needed her to react. That was what fueled me.
Grinding my hips with a chuckle, I inched her palm over my leg, then brought it close to my bulge. There, finally; pink as cotton-candy, Zoe's whole face glowed. I was rewarded with her trying to yank away. I held on tight, enough to show her I knew and she knew that I was in control of this dance.
Fuck, the way she chewed her lower lip had my cock throbbing.
“Here,” Eliza said, appearing at our side. The screams of the others nearly drowned her out. “It's her birthday, go give her a private dance.” A lovely devil, she hooked her arms under Zoe's and forced the surprised woman to her feet.
“Oh, no no,” Zoe laughed. Twisting away from her roommate, she bumped right into me. The scent of her body heat hit me, wafting from her red hair and her elegant throat. Inhaling sharply, my eyes fluttered. She heard the noise, startling and gaping up at the wall that was my mostly naked body.
She was saying she didn't want to be alone with me?
What a liar.
Kicking my pants and shoes away, I looped my arm around her waist, spun her like a dancer. “Don't insult the host,” I said, shooting a quick look at Eliza. The wicked light in her eyes said she hadn't changed one bit. Still such a ball-buster. “It's your birthday, being too scared to enjoy that would be a shame.”
Zoe followed at my side, everyone clapping behind us. She was dazed, her words stilted and angry. “I'm—I'm not too scared to enjoy it!”
“Good.” Pushing the bedroom door open, I let go of her. Dipping my head, I motioned inside. “Then let me do my job. I already promised to be gentle.”
This was her moment to choose. If she walked away, I wouldn't chase her down or coerce her. Perhaps I could change her mind as the night went on, but I was ready right now. If Zoe didn't go for it, I'd burn my energy out on that Janet girl. She'd been eye-fucking me the whole party.
Lifting her chin, Zoe gave me a sideways smile. “It's my birthday, what if I don't want gentle?”
Breathing through my nose, I pushed the middle of her back. Okay. Never mind this 'choice' bullshit. Even if it was just a dance—for now—I was getting a piece of this woman.
She didn't fight me. Zoe walked into the room with her head held high. It wasn't until I'd shut the door, cutting off the music and setting us in our private bubble that her coy smile crumbled. “This is just a lap-dance,” she said, though it was verging on a question.
Dressed in just my clinging briefs, still sporting a solid hard-on, I moved towards her. The twinkle of nerves in Zoe's blue eyes had my heart thumping. Leaning past her, listening to her tiny gasp, I chuckled. She'd expected me to touch her. Instead, I clicked the play button on the radio I'd brought. Soft, trance-style music began to flow.
This was intimate, different than the display I'd put on for the crowd. I wanted her to know that before we even began. It'd been some time since I'd done a strip-tease for a party, but private moments like this? Just me and a woman and nothing in between?
Those were as familiar as breakfast.
“Hey,” she said, her voice going razor-thin. “Answer me. Just a dance, okay?”
Running my fingers through my thick hair, I shrugged. “Unless you ask for more, sure.”
“I won't ask for more.”
Narrowing my eyes, I showed her my teeth. “Don't go making promises you can't keep.”
Zoe's chest flared, filling with surprised—excited—air. I could tell she liked my challenge, it was written on her parted lips.
I was used to girls reacting this way, it wasn't new. What was new was the odd resistance coating her every move. This girl was into me, so why did she keep wavering around it? Where was her wall coming from?
Putting my hand on her shoulder, I pushed her down onto the bed. She sat heavily on the edge, the springs squeaking in place of her own voice. She'd gone stone-silent.
In the light of the single lamp on Eliza's desk, her vanity mirror showed the two of us. Zoe was stiff-backed, eyes popping to their limit while she gazed expectantly upwards. Still fully dressed, she should of had the advantage. It didn't work that way.
When I rolled my stomach, my reflection mimicked me. The plethora of tattoos rippled, black and red and even green. I loved ink, swelled proudly at how the designs accentuated the sharp dip of my hip bones.
Zoe was entranced. Clearly, she loved the effect, too.
Lifting her eyes, she realized by my smirk that I'd caught her eating me up. Her mini scowl said, I'm flustered, okay, so what?
If she thought this was flustered, she had a harsh lesson coming her way.
My fingers clamped onto her knees. Her jump was instant, amusing. Pushing her legs apart, I slid between. My bare chest came close to her, stroking the fabric of her dress, a butterfly's kiss.
Lifting her hands, she slid her nails along my upper back, like she was testing to see if I was real. A curl of her hair tickled my nose. “Is this your first lap-dance?” I whispered.
A row of goosebumps sprouted along her neck. She answered me in her cracking voice. “Would it shock you if I said no?”
It did shock me. Pulling back, I stared at her curiously, looked for some hint of what this girl was made of. Zoe was still blushing, but her eyes were a smile all their own. “In that case,” I said, trapping her wrists tight. “You know
the rules. No touching.”
She showed me her tiny scowl. “You let me touch you earlier.”
My grin split wider. “If I put your hands on me, it's fine. I didn't this time. Rules are rules.” Letting go, I pulled her down the bed until her toes were on the floor. This shoved my cock against the soft spot between her thighs.
Zoe's dress slid high, revealing the pink fabric that did what it could to create a barrier between her sweet cunt and my eager hard-on. The sound she made was all squawks. “Whoa whoa! Hey! What are you doing?”
Licking my lips, I dug my hands into her smooth flesh. Purposefully, I rocked against her pussy, rubbing along the fabric. There was a growl in the back of my throat. It wasn't fake or exaggerated, I was fucking turned on. Her shock was just adding to it. “Thought you'd had lap-dances before?”
“Not like this!”
“Well,” I purred, grinding my cloth-covered dick firmly against her, “That makes sense. I do them my way. I do them fucking right.”
Zoe was gawking, but the bit of fire I'd spotted in her before was shining in her face. She kept her hands on the bed, mauling the blanket. She could have shoved—or tried to shove—me away. She hadn't.
For a moment I waited. My palms traced to her knee, hips holding still and creating a wave of aching need in me. Shit, I was excited. Her scent was burrowing into my nose. My lust was made worse when she arched into me experimentally. “Yeah?” I breathed out.
Darting her eyes to the side, then back to me, she chuckled. “I'd be a pretty poor birthday girl if I didn't let Eliza get her monies worth. She paid for all of this.” Those pretty irises were deep and dark. “Go ahead. Show me what a proper lap-dance is—what did you say your name was?”
I didn't muffle my laugh. “Huxton. Just call me Huck.” She'd forgotten my name? What a little tease. I wouldn't let her forget me, no way. Patiently, I gyrated my throbbing erection against her panties. I knew how to move, where to press. Zoe's moan was... encouraging.
Hoisting her by her round ass, I pushed her up the bed. Doing so put me close to her, a wave of her sweet, intoxicating musk dampening my brain. The scent of her excited cunt was driving me towards the edge. I needed to stay in control.
