STRIPPED

by Tarrah Anders

  I’d like to think I put that sparkle there.

  He smirks at me, still holding the glass out to me and clears his throat.

  “You done? I feel like a piece of meat.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not used to seeing so much of this.” I wave my hand up and down toward him. “In real life.”

  “In real life,” he repeats.

  “You must have to work out a lot,” I say dumbly.

  “I’m a trainer, remember?”

  “Oh yeah.” Idiot. Count this as an embarrassing conversation.

  “Plus, I have rehearsals several days a week just to stay fresh. So I have a lot of physical activity,” he says nonchalantly.

  I smirk. “Right. Don’t forget all that sex we just had.”

  I want to know everything and I want to be able to feel comfortable discussing his job, but I just need to figure out how to fully navigate that, prior to being so open about it.

  “And will continue to have. Shall we crash?” he asks hesitantly. “Or should I go home?”

  “No. Stay, please.”

  ***

  I wake up to kisses from the base of my spine trailing up to my neck. I arch my back slightly as I feel his teeth scrape lightly against the top of my shoulders. Pressing my ass into him, I feel his cock harden at the connection.

  This is the way every week should start, I think to myself and press more into him as I open my legs. I feel Malcolm’s hand on my hip and then I feel the tip of his cock. Arousal spreads through my body like wildfire at his touch, my heart skips a beat, my body blushes and I feel parched.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet right now. Is that all for me?” he rushes out.

  “Fuck me, Mal.” I say without hesitation.

  I feel him move behind me and I hear the ripping of the condom wrapper and then his body is pressing against mine again. I angle my hips to accept him as I feel the tip of his cock breach my body. He cock drives in and out of me as my hips work in tandem with his movements. We set a good rhythm as his hands hold my hips in place.

  “Touch your clit, baby. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off and I need you to come with me.”

  I do as he says and run my fingers down my stomach to make contact with my sex. I use my juices to tease my clit, while stroking his cock as he goes in and out of me. He moans when my fingers touch his shaft and I smile in satisfaction as I circle my bud and add a small amount of pressure to build my orgasm.

  The sounds of our bodies meeting, his grunts, my moans and the slapping of skin is affecting all me.

  “I’m going to come,” I moan.

  Malcolm’s hand grips my hip harder as he thrusts faster, pulling my body into his. Just as I feel my orgasm hit, my toes curls and my sight blacks out with tiny white specks. Malcolm is languidly pushing and pulling, his body twitching slightly with every other pull. His breathing is as ragged as mine as he comes then when his movements slow to a stop, I feel him kissing my shoulders and smiling against me.

  I lean into him with his cock still planted inside me.

  “Good morning,” he says against my skin.

  “Morning.”

  He pulls out and the fullness that I was reveling in is gone, along with the heat of his body, as he rolls the other way from me, climbs out of bed and disposes of the condom in the waste basket he found beside the bedside table.

  He slides back into bed as I turn to face him with his semi-hard cock between our bodies.

  “I vote that Mondays always start off that way,” he says cheerfully, as his head rests on his arm, which is propped up on the pillow. His other hand is on my hip, pulling us closer.

  “I think that can be a possibility,” I say, my hands wrapping around his on my middle.

  “Good. Can I vote for it to happen every day?”

  I laugh as he kisses my shoulder again. “What’s your day look like?”

  “A lot more of this if you let me.” His chin rests on the same shoulder he was just kissing.

  “Seriously. Since we’re dating and all, we’ll do a lot more than fucking.”

  “What else is there?” he jokes. “Mondays are my light days. I only have to be at rehearsal at six and then there’s only one… show,” he says quietly.

  “So you have all day to do nothing?”

  “With some light fucking, I hope?”

  “Light fucking?”

  “You know, like what we just did.” He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose sweetly.

  “So, if this is going to work between us, we should get to know each other just a little better. Plus, you’ll be my date to the wedding and people will likely ask questions about us, about you and stuff.”

  I see the excitement deflate from his face, but he covers it with a shake of the head.

  “So, let’s start with getting out of bed, eating some food and then maybe enjoying some quality twenty questions?”

  I smile as he leans in and kisses me lightly.

  “What if we stayed in bed just a little while longer?” I ask, batting my eyes in feigned innocence.

  “You’re trouble, you know that, right?” he answers before he claims my lips roughly and covers my body with his.

  “I’m safe too, you know. If you want to, I don’t know… not use anything,” I say in a whisper.

  He answers me by grabbing his cock and pushing it past my swollen lips and plunging in. He’s seated deeply into me as his tongue lashes against my lips.

  “Fuck, you feel so good bare,” he breathes as out as he leans down and kisses me before he hovers over me, his body being held up by his arms as my hands rest on his chest while he pushes into me repeatedly.

  “I just want you to know, I’m going to fall in love irrevocably with you,” he confesses. “And I’m going to love you so hard.” He picks up his pace, pounding in and then sliding out of me. Leaning down, he kisses me as much as he can. He pulls back and his face takes on an expression of ecstasy as we both find our releases again.

  After we each orgasm, we lay together in silence while catching our breath. My mind is running a mile a minute at his confession. It was unexpected and also welcome I like the fact that he thinks this right away and it gives me hope.

  I should be scared, right?

  Should I take the same blind leap that he is and embrace everything?

  Can I?

  Malcolm

  Her head is thrown back, the column of her neck looking so soft and elegant, as laughter erupts from her lips. That laughter is a mixture of amusement and sultriness at the same time. Every sound that comes out of her mouth has me in a trance, from her sauciness that day we first met to the moans that I hear when I’m balls deep in her.

  I know last night, we only just sealed the deal, but I knew from the first moment that we locked eyes, she would be mine and vice versa. I shamelessly told her that I would fall in love with her, but it’s only partially true. I’m already there, likely since she first let me in.

  I am falling in love with her, bit by bit. I’m not afraid to admit it, it scares the shit out of me with it being so soon. Sometimes, you just know.

  Call it lust, call it premature, but right now, whatever this tightening is in my chest, the quickening in my stomach and the way my face hurts from smiling when I look at her, helps me feel absolute in my feelings and even more confident in what I told her.

  I’ve never once felt this way before with any woman I have been involved with, either with girls back home or any of the brief encounters here in Vegas. It is a mixture of feelings, especially since she was very apprehensive about my being a male dancer. I am eager to prove to her that it’s just a job, that she is it for me. I am determined to have her okay with it eventually.

  “So let me get this straight. Jacks, the guy from the other night, peed his pants on stage?” She catches her breath as she starts giggling again, leaning back against the couch. Her body is tucked in the corner of the couch facing me as my back is against the other arm of the couch and I’m facing
her.

  “Yup.”

  “And then what?”

  “Luckily, it was towards the end of his number, so he went backstage, gave himself a French bath with baby wipes, and changed.”

  “And he continued his… performances? No chicks were grossed out?” she laughs.

  “Not that I can recall him mentioning to me.” I shake my head.

  “Where were you?” she asks.

  “This happened before I got hired on. Jacks and I go a ways back. We both had flats in the same area in Sydney, and we had some classes together at Uni too. He phoned one night, griping about it.”

  “And you thought it sounded great, so you hopped on a plane and came here?”

  “Not quite. I auditioned for the show, went through a boot camp and, as I was finishing Uni, I was also getting hired.”

  “I take it you weren’t studying dance?” She smirks when I smirk. “What are the rules about girlfriends?” she asks, getting serious and leaning her chin on her hand.

  “I haven’t tried to have a girlfriend since working for the company, but from what I’ve heard from the other guys, it’s hard. Kind of what you broke down to me with your ground rule. It takes a special kind of partner and there has to be trust there or the beginning of such. A lot of communication too.”

  “I see.” She nods, taking in the conversation.

  I’m easily answering her questions, hoping that it helps her feel better about what I do and who I am at this point in my life.

  “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t gone home with a client for quite some time, well, aside from you.”

  “In a strange way, it does. How long have you been dancing?”

  “If you don’t count in the privacy of my own flat, six years.”

  “And if we count your flat?”

  “Since I was born.” I smirk.

  “Have you dated anyone recently?” she asks quickly.

  “You’re the first in quite some time” I answer honestly.

  “What’s ‘some time’?”

  “I haven’t had an actual girlfriend in years. For sure since I started dancing and likely officially since before I moved to the States.”

  “And then I come into the picture,” she says, as if she’s thinking out loud.

  “And then, there’s you.” I smile.

  “Okay, so often do you have shows?”

  “Tuesday and Wednesday nights are the only nights there are no shows. But I sometimes have rehearsals on those days, but not always.”

  “And then you also do personal training?”

  “Yup.”

  “When do you sleep?”

  “Between the hours of two in the morning and ten in the morning.” I smile.

  “You seem very busy.”

  “I can be at times. But I allow myself a small, set amount of clients with pretty regular schedules that allow for downtime often. And I’m working on paving my path for a new opportunity as well, so I won’t be a male dancer forever.” I put my arms behind my head.

  “I feel so unproductive sitting next to you,” she says after a moment’s pause.

  “Are you holding out for that one job you mentioned the other day, or are ya still looking?”

  “I’m still looking, well kind of. Not really. I should be, but I’ve been enjoying this time of doing nothing. Plus, I’m collecting unemployment and I want to make sure I find a good fit.”

  “Maybe, I’ll have something for you down the line,” I say quietly.

  “Huh?” She leans in.

  “Maybe we should talk about this wedding. You’re in the wedding, right?” I say, switching up the conversation.

  “Yeah, I’m the MOH.”

  “MOH?”

  “Maid of Honor. Deena has been my best friend for forever.”

  “And the bloke she’s marrying?”

  “Nate. He’s a good guy. He still let’s her be her own person and he’s pretty sweet.”

  “Pretty sweet,” I repeat. “And does her bloke know you guys came to the show?”

  “He does, he had his own stag party the same night.”

  “I see.”

  “There’s a rehearsal dinner on Friday night. Since you’re working, you don’t have to come.”

  “Since I’m not in the wedding, would that be something I’d go to?” I ask honestly since I know barely anything about weddings.

  “As my date.”

  “Right. Well, what time is dinner?”

  “Starts at five and goes until eight.”

  “Well, fuck. I have a show at seven. And since I’m out for Saturday, I can’t miss any Friday shows.”

  “That’s okay. This whole thing with you coming to the wedding was last minute anyways.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with me coming? I was, after all, forced on you by your drunk friend as she was ear-bashing away the other night about pretty people.”

  “Boyfriends should be wedding dates to weddings, right? Or is that too much, too soon?” she asks me with a terrified look.

  To be perfectly honest, there is no such as thing right now as too much, too soon. I’m ready for the full plunge if she’d have me. But I’m not scaring her away with all that when I just got her.

  “I don’t think we need to think ‘too much’ or ‘too soon.’ I did give you a lap dance in public. Plus I’d go anywhere just to be with you,” I say, knowing full well how that makes me sound like such a pussy, but when she smiles the kind of smile I can feel, I know I said something right.

  “So, random question,” she starts, as I lean in, curious as to what she is going to ask. “Who is your not hot celebrity crush?”

  “My what?” I’m confused.

  “You know, the not-so-obvious, conventionally hot celebrity,” she says, like it’s the most normal question to ask.

  “Well…” I lean my head back to stare at the ceiling while I think about my answer. “Martha Stewart.”

  “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that answer,” she laughs.

  “Think about it, she’s totally kick-ass and down because she hangs out with Snoop, she cooks some awesome shit, she has, like, her own empire and plus, she’s been in jail. So you know that she’s legit.”

  “Thinking out of the box, I like it. Unexpected, but I like it.”

  “Who is yours?” I ask.

  “Mark Ruffalo.”

  “He seems like he would be a stud,” I agree nodding.

  “He’s also the Hulk, so one can only imagine how he would be in bed.” She smirks as I bust out laughing.

  “Okay, then,” I say, leaning up on the couch and hovering over her, my arms going on either side of her shoulders. “I’ll show you a hulk if you want me to, baby?”

  “Will you paint your body all green?”

  “Is that a thing for you?”

  “Depends on if you will do it?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I say, leaning down and taking her lips. I run my tongue along her bottom lip until she opens up and then I rub my tongue along hers and suck it into my mouth.

  “I want to smash bodies with you,” I say into her mouth with a growl.

  Chapter 7

  Rebeckha

  The beginning of a relationship has a steep learning curve sometimes. You have to figure out the other person’s schedule, how to mix your schedule with theirs, along with the on-going deciphering of what they like and what they don’t like. Then there’s the whole shit ton of mind-blowing sex!

  I found out that he does not like pineapple on his pizza. He rather detests it, actually. It’s something that I will have to get used to, as I love my pineapple and my pizza to be together and get along. When he eats, he closes his eyes and hums in appreciation. When he wakes up in the morning, he can’t just spring out of bed; he has to wait until he is more awake to make any movements, which just puzzles me. When he eats junk food, which is one of the basic food groups of my diet, he seems to work out a little longer, probably to work off that extra french fry or
something.

  Even though I told him I wasn’t keen on knowing about his dancing, I realize that it’s a large part of his life and have basically thrown that rule out the door without really mentioning it. I held onto it for a day, but I’ve slowly been asking more and more about the job. He’s been patient and willing to answer every question that I throw his way, which has alleviated any negative feelings that I would have, since he’s so open.

  I still am not completely comfortable with it, and would rather pretend he didn’t strip down to a G-string several nights a week for other women, but I can tell that when he talks about it, he loves what he does. I’ve now met two of the guys he works with and they are like brothers to him. For these reasons and more, it would be unforgivable of me to block out a part of what makes him who he is, just because I don’t want to hear about it.

  I’ve seen him dance, and I do have to say there’s more to it than just taking off your clothes. The amount of work that he puts into rehearsing, working out, and eating right is just insane for anyone. He can do things with his body that I wouldn’t even say that I could do just to sound cool. He’s flexible and strong, controlled and even graceful. He can do acrobatics like he belongs in a circus, flipping his body into the air with so much height. To me, it seems unreal but I’ve seen him do it and I have to say I’m amazed.

  The old notion that good dancers are good in bed, while I never believed it before, I can say thatin Malcolm's case, it's definitely true.". In the two weeks we’ve been dating, I’ve had more orgasms than I have in my twenty-seven years of life so far, since previously only ten or so of my lifetime climaxes resulted from being sexually active with a partner and not just my fingers.