Not a real lap dance.

Throb­bing bass, and my hips bounce and grind to the beat. Face­down on the bed before him, back arched into the air, hips mov­ing and groov­ing, I can feel his eyes on me. I ignore him, lost in my own world where that rhyth­mic bass beat rules my every move. I move up to my knees, back still towards him, gyrat­ing and rock­ing, hair toss­ing over my shoul­ders, as I look back at him, one long lin­ger­ing look that smoulders.

Another look back reveals his pants par­tially pushed down, cock out and hard, thick and smooth in his hand as he slides his fist up and down slowly.

I turn around, to face him, the move­ments more like sex now than danc­ing, though mov­ing like this, on top of him, I real­ize now that danc­ing has alreadys really been just a pre­cur­sor to that act. My hips above his hip­bones, grind­ing on top of him, lean­ing for­ward to brush my breasts against his face. He closes his eyes, and moans into my soft skin. My hair trails down over his chest, and I can feel his cock hard and insis­tent against my naked ass.

Teas­ing, I rise to my full height on my knees, kneel­ing above him, undu­lat­ing and grind­ing while keep­ing his arms pinned beneath my knees. Soft whis­pers escape his lips and his eyes flut­ter closed, then open again. He begs me, but I’m hav­ing too much fun.

I turn around on his lap, fac­ing his feet, mov­ing my ass up and down hyp­not­i­cally beneath his gaze. He runs his palms down my back, lin­ger­ing on the curves on my hips. His hands knead my flesh, press­ing insis­tently, try­ing to hold me in place. I lean for­ward, head down by his knees, rais­ing my ass high in the air, legs slightly apart, look back at him, between my knees, smile at the look on his face.

He wants me so badly that coher­ant words can no longer make it past his lips. Just a series of moans and pri­mal grunts as he arches his hips beneath me.

“You know I can’t…” I warn him, know­ing full well that this cock tease will go some­where, it must go some­where. I can’t stand to remain on the edge any more than he can.

We press, and touch and  moan into one another’s mouths. I’m under him now, his weight press­ing me into the bed, his cock against my tummy — I can feel the pre­cum leak­ing on me. He rises up, stroking his cock. So thick, so hard the veins stand out in stark relief. There’s some­thing wild in his eyes when he looks at me, and I know his con­trol is going.

I lean back against the head­board, grab my ankles and spread myself for him. I ask him to fuck my ass, then I beg. He takes one cuff from under the bed and secures my right ankle, high in the air. Then the another cuff and the other ankle, pulling the restraints so tight that my thighs spread almost painfully apart, split­ting me open for him.

He roughly lubes his cock, smear­ing some across my tight open­ing, then he’s in me,  no pre­am­ble. “Push all the way in,” I beg, but then it’s too much and I ask him to pull out. We look in each other’s eyes, pant­ing, and I ask him to try again. He’s a bit gen­tler this time, but not by much, and then I’m bent in half like a pret­zel, ankles up around my ears, bit­ing the meat of his shoul­der to keep from scream­ing as the inten­sity builds, then over­whelms, and I’m com­ing, so hard, reduced to bab­bling by the plea­sure over­tak­ing my system.

I clench around his cock, spas­ming and grunt­ing ani­mal­is­ti­cally, beg­ging for his come in my ass. And then he’s com­ing, and I’m com­ing again, and his weight’s on top of me bend­ing me in half, and the deli­cious ache in my thighs, the throb­bing in my cunt matches the rhythm of the bass beat of the same song, on repeat, still play­ing some­where, in the background.

I tell him, “One of these days, I’ve got to give you a real lap dance.”