Twenty Says

Gradually, using small sexy circles, I turned to face him, stepped back a little and closed his knees. I slid my hands very slowly up his thighs, feeling the muscles clenching beneath the thin material. As my hands neared his hips I stepped forward and straddled him, grinding myself into his lap as the final chorus played out. I swished my hair in his face, letting him breathe my strategically placed scent, then drew my fingers gingerly up his sides, over his shoulders and cupped his face.

Rocking in his lap to the beat I could see in his eyes that he longed to touch me; to run his hands up my body, grab my breasts and knead the soft flesh. I felt so powerful; so damn womanly. There was no stopping me now: I wanted to make him squirm. To tease him further I guided his face to my cleavage and eased myself forward so I could feel his hot breath on my skin then arched my back and stood, pushing away from him and stepping out of his personal space.

Adam's disappointment was plain but short-lived. I did one further sensual 360, keeping my eyes locked on his as long as possible. I tugged at the belt of the dress and it came free. As the outro began to fade I dropped my hands to my sides, grabbed the hem of my dress again and slowly lifted.

Inch by inch I raised my dress, uncovering first the tops of my hold-ups, then my impossibly small panties tied in neat bows at my sides. My belly was next, gyrating sexily to the dying music, then I revealed my encased 36Cs to his waiting stare. By the time the track had ended I had my arms above my head and was dressed only in lingerie. I threw the dress at him and it landed in his lap. He felt its warmth for a second then tossed it aside, not knowing what to expect next. I of course knew what was coming: one of my favourite songs of all time. Slower than AC/DC, more sensual somehow. And sung by a woman.

The unmistakable chugging of 'Black Velvet' by Alannah Myles filled the room and I quickly found the rhythm, beginning the gyrations that were already becoming second nature. As I swayed I turned, circling my bottom alluringly in his direction, maintaining as much eye contact as I could. Without the dress it was easier to move and I'm sure looked a hell of a sight sexier judging by the tent effect in Adam's crotch. I moistened some more and was sure I'd soon be leaving a damp spot on the material between my shapely legs. I hoped he would notice.

Once I was facing Adam again I heel-toed my way over and bent in front of him, the top half of my breasts spilling out of the bra into his face. Spreading his knees with my hands I moved in closer and brought my arms up and beyond him to rest on the back of the chair. With my back arched I leant forward and again pressed my breasts to his face. He breathed in deeply, devouring my scent and I rocked from side to side, swinging my soft flesh against his nose. He moaned in appreciation. Tip number five was a hit!

Raising one leg and rubbing the sheer material against his thigh I brought my knee forward and pressed it into his groin. I felt him twitch beneath me and he shifted in the seat to try and increase the pressure against his raging manhood. Before he had time to get comfortable I removed my knee and slowly began to descend, dragging my breasts over his shirt and tie. All the while I trailed my fingernails down his body, he was staring into my eyes with a fire I'd never seen. Maintaining this intense eye contact I came to rest kneeling on the floor facing his straining prick. As I demurely shot him another fiery come-on I thought he was going to rip his clothes off, fling me to the ground and sink his cock into me, taking me with abandon there on the rug. Part of me wished he would.

Getting hold of my thoughts before they ran away with me, I put my hands on his knees, brought my bottom up and ever so slowly stood, making sure he caught an eyeful of cleavage. As Alannah brought the first chorus to a close I flicked my hair up into his face and stood back.

If I hadn't been so turned on I might have laughed at the expression on his face. His mouth was agape and he was staring doe-eyed at my show, not quite knowing what to look at next. I decided to direct his attention for the second verse.

I purposefully strode to the mantelpiece where my glass of red wine rested and took a swig without swallowing. Swaying and gyrating back towards him I faced away and took delight in bending low, running my hands up and down my silky legs before repeating the bottom spank move from earlier. This time my hand made a reassuring crack that fuelled his imagination. While he was thinking about that I slowly righted myself and turned to face him, trying as best I could to keep to the rhythm. I felt the wet spot form for definite.

As verse two began to ramp towards the chorus I swished my hair about in time to the riff and stepped towards him. I came to stand once again between his parted thighs, right up against the chair, bent and lifted his chin with my index finger. I brought my mouth to his and crushed our lips together in a sensual kiss. His mouth opened but he wasn't expecting the wine. It spilled between us, dribbling down our chins. He caught some of it in his mouth as I forced my tongue against his. Wine flowed between us, running down his smoothly shaven features and dripping red onto the surface of my creamy breasts, trickling between them to soak into the bra.

Against every fibre of will in my body I abruptly broke the kiss and took a half step back. I trailed my finger up to his mouth and let him suck the wine from it as I picked up the gyrations, culminating in me rotating so my bottom was towards him. I moved it in slow circles under his mesmerised stare. Lowering myself once again fully into his lap and using his knees for support I ground my backside into his groin. He was so hard and I was wet; a perfect combination. I longed to abandon the dance, unbuckle his trousers, guide his prick past my tiny panties and ride him to within an inch of coming, then take him in my mouth, feeling his steely length against the back of my throat as I swirled my tongue around him, sucking until he bucked his hips into my face and his hot load fired into me.

Keeping his stare for any length of time was impossible as he kept looking down to watch the way my tiny panties alternately covered then revealed the valley between my firm cheeks. He was only male after all. To counter this I sprawled back against him, rubbing myself against his shirt and draping my arm up to stroke the back of his head. I rested my head on his shoulder and brought my mouth to his ear, whispering hoarsely, "I want you inside me."

I felt his cock twitch beneath me and decided to push further with my words. "Take me, Adam. Here. Now. Fill me with your hot come."

I trailed my other arm up around his neck as I continued to grind. "Thrust your hard cock into my pussy, over and over. I'm so wet for you." It wasn't a lie. My arousal was steadily increasing and I could feel myself becoming wetter by the minute. "Look what you've created: I'm your plaything tonight. You can do anything you want to me. Anything at all."

Slithering down from him, I sat on the floor, turned and used his knees to haul myself up. I placed my mouth a few millimetres above the fabric of his trousers and poked my tongue out, pressing against the tip of his hidden manhood. I swirled my tongue a little then stood fully and backed away from him as the song faded.

Adam just grinned and applauded. "Oh wow, B. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Or stopping himself from ejaculating in his underwear. "Come closer."

I shuffled towards him coyly, expecting him to grab me and make love to me where he sat, bouncing me up and down on his rock hard cock as we wrapped our arms around each other. Yet again I was proved wrong. He fished into his pocket and withdrew his wallet retrieving yet another twenty. Folding it meticulously he slid it behind the band of my left hold-up along with the other note.

"Twenty says you are to sit in the armchair and masturbate for me. I want to watch you come. Keep your clothes on."

I didn't have a reason to argue: this was his show. Truthfully I was already pretty well aroused from the lap dance and could do with the release. Turning on my heels I stepped purposefully towards the armchair opposite him. Instead of sitting straight down as he probably expected, I climbed on it, kneeling on the large cushion, legs together, resting my arms on the upright back. I wiggled my backside at him from across the room and looked over my shoulder to see him smiling, pleased with my newfound performance traits. I never imagined it would be so arousing to act this way; although reasonably comfortable with my body -- save for the odd place where I could lose a few pounds -- I wasn't used to flaunting it so overtly. The biggest turn-on was that Adam didn't seem to notice any of the flaws I felt in myself. He was focused solely on me and my display; and it made me feel like a Goddess.

Reaching behind me I ran my fingers from my thighs up over the flesh of my rear. The panties didn't conceal much, making it easy to spank my bottom and watch him move his hands to his lap, rubbing his prick through his trousers as the echoes of my slaps bounced around the room. The light from the candles transmitted my actions partly to the far wall and partly onto the surface of the long bay window curtains. Anyone walking by would be treated to quite a shadow dance.

I parted my knees and moved my hand between my legs to cover my minuscule underwear. I felt wetness against my palm and gently slapped my pussy for his pleasure before sliding my hand beneath the flimsy material. I jumped a little at the touch. Lips slick with my juices I slithered my palm against the bare skin and sighed as my hand pressed my sensitive clitoris.

Losing myself in the moment I ground my palm hard beneath the underwear, panting a little, still watching Adam over my shoulder through half-closed eyes. The power I had over my man was incredibly arousing, especially given that he hadn't seen anything of me yet. What would he do when he saw how wet I was? Most days the answer would be obvious -- he would lick me to a shattering orgasm then pound his rock hard cock inside me until he came. Tonight, however, all bets were off.

That didn't stop me imagining him stepping up behind me, pulling my underwear aside and sliding his hard prick into my wet box. I could almost feel his hands on my hips as he pistoned in and out, slowly at first and becoming faster with each stroke. As I moved my palm in circles over my clit I allowed a finger to slide inside myself at every opportunity. Despite yearning to insert more I restricted myself to only pushing in as far as the first knuckle to keep the show going for longer. Being so out of character -- essentially a tease -- felt amazing; restraining myself, knowing what it would do to Adam.

The heat was building inside me as I brought myself closer to orgasm for him. I wasn't an exhibitionist -- or at least didn't think so until tonight. Perhaps it had always been in me and I'd been repressing it, needing the right atmosphere and a nudge to launch the real me: Belle 2.0! I became aware of my heavy breathing and decided to step it up a gear for Adam.

I pulled my slick hand from my panties and turned over, perching myself on the edge of the armchair cushion, spreading my legs wide apart as far as I could stretch them. My heels and sheer, nylon-encased legs sparkled in the light from the dim lamp. I stretched out my hand towards Adam, palm facing him so the flickering candlelight could catch the wetness, offering a glimpse of what he was currently missing -- or would soon have. I then brought my hand back towards my face, took a theatrical sniff, closed my eyes and ran my tongue very slowly up my palm. The taste of my arousal was intoxicating; the familiar mixture of sweet and musk on my hands reminding me of nights alone, nights with Adam, and nights without him; often spent listening intently to other couples making love in adjacent hotel bedrooms. As I opened my eyes I noticed my brazen act had been received loud and clear by my watcher. He was openly rubbing his crotch through his trousers and I probably couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind at that moment.

Returning my hand to my panties I massaged the whole area slowly, sensuously and then slid my fingers beneath the sheer material that separated me from his fantasy. Once again I slid a finger inside myself; deeper this time. I gasped as it probed my depths and then vacated, allowing my lips momentary respite until my digit once again sought sanctuary inside. Over and over I probed and withdrew; each time eliciting a breathy gasp from my mouth; ruby red lips apart and eyes almost shut.

I could hear the material of Adam's trousers shuffling as he stroked his entire cock. The thought of his self-imposed restraint, dying to unzip his trousers and fill me as I sat spread-eagled for his pleasure, drove me onwards. I fell back against the rear cushion of the armchair so I had better access to my pussy and sawed my finger in and out of my glistening tunnel.

With my other hand I reached up for my chest and began to massage one of my ample breasts. It would be impossible for Adam to ignore the upturned nipple beneath the lace fabric, jutting from me as I grabbed handfuls of my flesh and tweaked my tip. A semi-circle of areola protruded above the C cup as my ministrations became more extreme but I kept my end of the bargain and remained clothed throughout. I switched to the other breast and it responded like its twin sister; pink nub hardening and poking out of the confines of the bra.

All the while, I continued to rub my mound and thrust my finger into my body. Soon one wasn't enough and I added a second digit, bucking hard against my hand. Every so often I would yank my fingers from my core and trail them up my belly to leave a wet line of juice, then walk them up my chin to my mouth and lewdly suck my secretions from them. I tasted so good and knew Adam longed to sample me too. My hand would then slide down over my breast, glide over my soft, curvaceous hips and delve beneath my panties to resume dipping inside my hairless snatch.

Across the room I could hear Adam enjoying my show, which spurred me on. He'd turned me into such a hussy! Dressing like a whore, lap dancing, showing myself off like this purely for his sexual entertainment. I should be disgusted with my behaviour but I was so turned on, any rational thoughts were sidelined as my mind raced and the twisted fantasies of what he would do to me later took over. My breathing was becoming ragged and in the distance I was aware of someone moaning in pleasure in time to my actions -- perhaps it was me; I didn't care any more. All that existed were the glimpses of Adam I caught on the occasion I opened my eyes, and my hands roaming and probing my erogenous zones. As I shut my eyes tightly I imagined the hands groping me belonged to other people and the rhythmic filling and emptying of my pussy was a man's hard cock driving into me. The faces of the men around me were indiscernible as they used my body as their private theme park; sucking, twisting, licking, biting and thrusting with tongues, fingers and cocks. They were stuffing money into my hold-ups, paying for the privilege of my youthful body and I was their willing slut.

Slut. The word whirled in my mind. I was such a slut -- a slattern as they'd have called me in Victorian times -- for having these thoughts and behaving this way. What would my parents think of their little girl dreaming of being ravaged by a group of men, used and abused for their pleasure? A tangle of bodies, hot, horny, and panting, with me the centrepiece. I was convinced normal people didn't think about such things. Only sluts did. So tonight I was a dirty slut.

And I loved it.

I imagined the men building up towards release, slamming inside me, fucking my mouth and aching pussy hard, biting and squeezing my fleshy tits, making me cry out for more. Then as the sensations of using my taut body for their sexual indulgence overpowered the men, they started to come all over and inside me, shooting their sticky loads and groaning with lurid satisfaction. And I felt the fire in my belly begin to spread. My fingers ploughed into my soaking pussy and my other hand yanked my tits and pulled on each distended nipple through the fabric of my bra as I felt my orgasm crash through me. I bucked off the armchair and stayed rigid in that position, gasping loudly and repeatedly until the first wave of spasms began to die down. My skin was alight with the familiar yet distant glow of sexual release. My toes curled and uncurled inside my black shoes, the muscles in my calves and thighs tightening and releasing in sympathy. I was powerless in the grip of the orgasmic current flooding my limbs.

There was something magical about bringing myself over the edge like this. While it was equally wonderful to have Adam treat me to a tongue bath, it tended to be on his timetable and his terms. This way I had control of my thoughts and the result usually went beyond physical stimulation, entering the metaphysical plane where my mind and body united, resonating with one another towards the common goal of heightened arousal and all-consuming release. If there was a greater feeling anywhere in the universe I had yet to find it.

As I gradually lowered myself to the chair again, the fluttering sensations of the aftercome rippled through me. I could feel my pussy lips gently gripping and releasing my fingers, the frequency slowing as the fantasy abated and the silence of the room returned.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed like that, fingers still buried inside me, feeling the warmth ebbing and the glow fading. When I opened my eyes, the first thing that came into focus was Adam smiling down at me. He looked angelic. And contented. I judged I had done well and smiled weakly, unable to speak.

"That was incredible, B," he confirmed. "You like that?"

I found my voice. "Probably better than you," I breathed. "Look what you've turned me into!"

"I'm not finished yet," he said impishly.

He bent to his knees between my parted thighs and gradually lowered his head to my groin. I instinctively pulled my fingers from inside me and he grabbed my wrist, directing the sticky digits to his mouth. He paused and smelled them deeply before running his tongue over their length and gently suckling them, cleaning the juices. Then he bent further and placed a wet kiss on my sodden excuse for panties and sat back, satisfied.

Reaching into his pocket he retrieved his wallet once more. I waited patiently for the next instruction, accustomed to my role in his world. For now I was spent, so I would let him have his fun with me. He unfurled yet another twenty and meticulously folded it, sliding it next to the others in the band of my hold-ups, snapping it against my thigh.

"Twenty says you will now sit on my face. You can do anything you want to me; use my face, mouth, tongue, other objects, anything for your own pleasure. The only rule is you are not to dismount until you have come on my face at least once. I want to taste you directly."

I thought about this latest mission for a few seconds. It sounded so dirty, yet somehow deeply alluring. But I had doubts I could do it.

"How can I possibly come again after that?"

"You'll find a way. You always do."

It was true to an extent. Although once was enough, he knew I could come again in a relatively short space of time if he pushed the right buttons. Clearly he was playing to my strengths to fulfil his own desires. I considered the proposal a little longer. "Can I take my clothes off?"