The Temptation of Sammi Woo

Was that what I wanted?

This wasn't like the guys back at High School. I knew them. I didn't know this guy. I didn't know a thing about him except he was drop dead gorgeous and he was a biker and his tongue was so far down my throat he could've been giving me a tonsillectomy. His lips lifted from mine, his nose brushed mine, he smiled and my heart went wild.

"Sammi?" he said. It wasn't a whisper, you couldn't whisper and be heard over the music.

"Yes?"

I was waiting for him to say whatever it was he was going to say and until he said it I had no idea what my answer would be when the DJ cut the music and spoke after a screeching second of feedback. "Alrighty," he howled, "it's time for .... our Saturday Night amateur pole dancing competition...."

I ignored the rest of his spiel.

Vicky was back and she nudged me. "Go on Sammi, you're the best dancer out of all of us." She grinned. "You're gonna nail this." Well, she knew. "Come on, I'll go up with you."

Djävul laughed. Patted my butt. "Go on Sammi, the bro's all be rooting for ya'."

Vicky giggled and she did. She walked me right across the bar to the DJ, dragging me off Djävul's lap and up to the DJ with her, waved at him, pointed at me.

I was totally disappointed that Djävul left our table to rejoin those other bikers he'd been drinking with. Them and that other Chinese girl, Blue. Strange name but the DJ was saying something to me and I had to pay attention.

"What's your name?" he called.

"Sammi," Vicky yelled over the noise. "Sammi Woo."

"Okay, you're on, just wait there with the other girls, I'll call your name. Any music you want to dance too?"

Jesus. My mind went blank.

"That song from Flashdance," Vicky said. An oldie but it fitted. I guess. We both liked that old old movie. I liked the dancing. Vicky liked the whole romance thing. Figured.

In a daze, I waited. Vicky passed me her cooler. I drank the whole bottle as the half a dozen girls before me went up on stage one by one and did their stuff. They all looked like they knew what they were doing. Shit shit shit Vicky, what were you doing to me. I mean, I could dance, but pole dancing? Never done it.

Watching those other girls, I gulped. But I watched anyway, getting a few ideas. Trying to recall some of the moves those strippers had put on. Vicky came back with another bottle. I took that right out of her hands and drained it as well. If I was going to do this well, I kind of needed to anesthetize myself a bit and, well, it was working. I was really buzzed after that fifth cooler. I could do this, I told myself.

Sixth cooler? Whatever it was, I was losing count. I was buzzed.

Buzzed? Whatever. I wasn't buzzed. I was hammered.

Whoooeeeee, was I ever.

"Next up, and last contestant, Sammmmmiiiiiii Wooooooo," the DJ announced. My stomach took a dive.

I bounced up the steps with no idea at all about what I was going to do. None at all. My mind was a frozen blank as I looked out over that sea of faces watching me. The music cut in, pounding. I froze for a second, swallowed, took a deep breath and launched myself outwards. I was shaking with fright when I launched myself into a cartwheel all the way across the stage. The bar roared. Applause, cheers, catcalls, whistles. I couldn't believe it as I bounced off the wall and flipped to my feet on the far side.

I guess all those gymnastics and dance classes were worth it after all.

That burst of applause gave me enough confidence to spin myself back to that pole. I was improvising like crazy. Really, other than watching those half dozen girls before me, I had no idea what to do. I just tried to remember their best moves and combine it with stuff from gymnastics and those modern dance classes I'd taken all through elementary school and High School and just improvise like crazy. I hit that pole on the spin, got a grip on it with my hands and flung myself into a twirl around it that ended with my feet on the pole above my head and how in heck I did that I have no idea, not to this day.

That loose little skirt flopped down, exposing my panties to the world, but hey, that was part of the show. That and those vodka coolers meant I ignored what would have been my first instinct, to right myself and get that skirt straight back down again. Instead, I shimmied up the pole feet first, hand over hand, all the way to the ceiling, little black panties exposed to the world.

I'd never done anything like this in my life and now here I was in a strip club, flashing my panties to two hundred guys. Jesus, Sammi. But sanity was out the window and I was going for it. It pays to be a lightweight sometimes. I did the splits, slowly, rotating myself around the pole and easing myself down, down, down until I could flip straight off the pole, somersault through the air and land on my feet.

The audience was howling. Screaming. Cheering. Whistling.

Slightly out of breath, I whirled back around, gripped that pole with both hands and did what a couple of the other girls had done, I humped that pole, actually rubbing myself against it. Which felt good and gave me time to get my breath back anyhow. The audience was going wild, totally wild. Djävul was right up by the stage cheering and the rest of those bikers were there with him. Seeing all those guys like that was just such a buzz, so cool, so exciting. I could feel the power, feel their desire, feel their excitement, feel it and see it on their faces, hear it in their voices. I rode that buzz, rode that wave of exhilaration at their excitement across the stage, dancing like I'd never danced before.

The audience out there in the bar was going wild as I somersaulted through the air, bounced around the pole, flipped myself up around it and went into a gymnastics routine except I was parallel to the stage. The vodka coolers really helped, I wasn't thinking about falling at all as I flipped myself off and soared through the air to land on my feet at the last second, followed by a series of slow motion cartwheels across the stage, knowing I was showing off my long slender legs.

And my panties.

I knew the song was coming to an end and I wanted to end in style. And Djävul was there, right up center front against the bar. As the music crescendoed, I did one last cartwheel, flipped myself up off my feet and into a somersault that landed me on the bar on my feet right in front of Djävul, slid down onto my knees, my legs wide apart, my knees either side of Djävul. With a grin down at him, I grabbed his long blonde hair with one hand, lifted my skirt with the other and pulled his head inwards, right between my thighs. And held him there as I rose a little and arched my hips, grinding myself against his face.

Biting my lip hard, head arched back as I whipped my hair around to hide my face, I climaxed as I ground my pantie-covered sex against his face, concealed by my skirt, my long hair flailing as I shook my head wildly. Only Djävul and I knew how wet I was and he had to know, my sex was pushed up hard against his mouth and oh my god he was kissing me there as I climaxed and I screamed for him as my hips jerked, as my hands clutched at his head, my fingers buried in his long blonde hair.

The guys went wild as the music ended. Me? I stayed there, bowed backwards, panting, heart pounding as I got my breath back. The applause went on and on as I slid off the bar and into Djävul's waiting arms. He looked like he was enjoying the jealous looks he was getting. Me? I was just smiling from ear to ear. Glowing. Burning. Shaking. That climax. Jesus, I was still quivering and thank god Djävul's arm was around me. And nobody had known, everybody had thought I was doing a really good act.

Except maybe Djävul.

And definitely me.

Safe back at our table, perched once more on Djävul's lap, my butt nestled happily against that erection that was still there and how did he stay hard so long, Vicky sat down next to me and passed me another cooler, grinning. "So, Miss Popularity, that was amazing. Where the hell did you learn that?" She sounded stunned.

Heck, I was stunned. I'd never imagined myself doing anything like that.

Ever.

Guys all around us were buying me drinks. They were stacked all the way across the table. A couple of Djävul's biker buddies had joined us and they were knocking them back. Girly drinks or not, they were free.

Vicky was laughing. "They've all got tents in their pants?"

I looked around, trying to act casual. Everywhere I looked, jeans or shorts bulged. And I could feel Djävul. No exception there.

"You mean ...?" I looked wide-eyed at Vicky.

"Yep, stiff as poles, and it was all your doing, Sammi. Way to go, girl! You gave two hundred guys woody's." She was laughing.

I blushed bright red, not that anyone could have told the difference. I was flushed and sweating and excited. To think all the guys I could see in the bar were turned on because of me. The noise, the music, it was all so loud as I sat there sipping on that cooler, knowing that yes, I was more than a little drunk. Actually, I was pretty much hammered and I knew it. Me! Wow. First time ever. First time dancing on stage too. In a strip club.

From the feel of Djävul where I sat on him, maybe it'd be another first time too. Oh yeah! Please.

I giggled. Jesus, I really was hammered. Maybe I should get that cab home now, before I did something I'd regret. But it felt so big and hard and exciting and maybe I wouldn't regret it at all. Maybe I should just do it.

Vicky nudged me. "Hey, you're in the finals." The DJ was waving at me.

Finals? Huh? "I can't go back up there." My heart was pounding wildly. "I'm hammered."

Vicky put an arm around my shoulder, hugged me. "Sammi, you know the prize is five hundred dollars, right?"

"You're kidding me?"

"Nope, it is. So get your ass up there and put on another show. Believe me, you'll win it." She paused to make sure I was looking at her. "You had these guys really turned on, every single one of them, they loved you. So go on, get up there and dance like you did last time. You don't have to do anything different except get up there to win, not the way they're all looking at you now."

Five hundred bucks. Mine. I could use that money. I mean, my parents were paying for me but it wasn't like I had much spending money. Five hundred? I could buy myself some new clothes. A new bikini. Some nice lingerie. Little things my parents wouldn't spring for that I wanted. Oh yeah, I was so going up there and dancing. Five hundred bucks? Okay, I was doing this. I was.

I was going to win.

"Move your butt, Sammi." Vicky grinned and I did. I moved my butt. I got up there and I got up on that staged and I danced like I had the first time, without thinking about what I was doing. Just riding the buzz and dancing for the guys, dancing to flick their switches, dancing to get them hard. Every single one of them. Except this time I didn't grab Djävul's head and push my sex into his face, even though he was right up there, same as last time. No, I didn't do that.

I yelled "catch" at him and somersaulted off the bar, into the air and landed right in his arms. He caught me perfectly. Easily. He didn't drop me. He smiled. He kissed me. I kissed him back.

The club went wild.

I won.

Really, I couldn't believe it. Everyone went wild. And I had a check for five hundred bucks. Wow! Just wow! Djävul rescued me again. Back at our table, there I was, ecstatically perched on Djävul's lap again. His hand rested on my leg. Just that touch of his hand on my leg sending little thrills through me. He' kissed me before but he hadn't put his hands anywhere they shouldn't be. Now he had and I didn't mind at all. I liked his hand right where it was. Maybe even a little higher.

"I had no idea you could dance like that, Sammi."

I blushed. "Neither did I."

I had no idea Djävul's hand on my leg could turn me to jello either, but it was. I liked being jello. Hot panting quivering molten very wet jello. Yes, I was definitely hammered.

"Shame the competition's ended, I'd have liked to have watched you dance some more."

I glanced at him. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, I'd be right there up by the stage watching you." He grinned.

"You would?" My heart beat just about doubled as I remembered rubbing myself against his face when he'd been standing right there in front of the stage. And climaxed. I wondered if he knew. That'd just been so disgusting. Disgusting and dirty but the memory made me shiver. I'd climaxed so hard. Far better than touching myself. I thought about doing that to Djävul and just about climaxed again on the spot. I swear, if his hand had touched me there, I would've, right then.

I picked up yet another cooler. I sipped on it, feeling Djävul's hand almost touching my panties, his fingertips high on my inner thighs, just resting there. That touch! I was wet. So wet. Wet and hot and panting. I wanted Djävul to touch me there. I really wanted Djävul to touch me. Wilson had, but Djävul's hand just felt so much more exciting.

Touch me? Glancing at Djävul, his hand so casually on my thigh, not caring if anyone saw, I knew in that moment that I'd let him do whatever he wanted to me. Djävul was a guy who could push my envelope any way he wanted. Push my envelope? He could rip it to shreds. If he wanted to slide his hand inside my panties right here, not only would I spread my legs wide for him, I'd take my own panties off if he wanted me too. Yes, I did find Djävul that attractive.

I was drunk too. Not just a little.

Okay, a lot. Hammered.

I was an easy score.

For Djävul.

Sitting on his lap, his arm around me, one hand on my thigh, I knew that Djävul was that guy that I wanted to finally swipe my v-card. Djävul looked at me. He looked at me, into my eyes and he smiled, a slow smile that lit his face up. I smiled right back as he stroked my thigh, slowly, very blatantly. His eyes held mine as his fingers teased their way higher, higher still, almost but not quite brushing my panties. God, I was so wet. Wet wet wet and willing willing willing.

A guy like Djävul?

A guy like Djävul could swipe my v-card any time.

Heart pounding, his hand on my thigh, perched on his lap, I knew that.

Djävul looked down at my upturned face, he smiled and his smile said that he knew that too. "Want to dance again?" He grinned, slipped his hand off my thigh. Gestured with his head.

I smiled back, heading onto the dance floor with him. We had fun for twenty minutes up there, Djävul doing his best to grope my butt and me not exactly trying to stop him. This was the most fun ever and I just knew it was going to be even more fun. Vicky was up there as well, dancing away just like me. She gave me a grin. Heading back to our table, I was sweating, flushed and thirsty. I stole Djävul's drink, swallowed it thirstily. I blinked. Okay, that sure was heavy on the vodka.

"Been dancing too hard?" Djävul asked me solicitously. Or at least as solicitously as possible over the pounding music. I guess I looked flushed. I felt it.

I giggled. That vodka was really hitting me, I could feel it. "You were grabbing my butt." Not that I'd minded that. Not at all in fact. Grab my butt some more. Please.

Djävul grinned. The music had changed. Someone had put on something slow for a change, retro lounge music. The slow dancing sort. "Let's go grab a last dance and I'll grab your butt some more."

"Sure." Djävul could grab my butt anytime he wanted. Actually, Djävul could grab any part of me he wanted. Whenever I looked at him I just wanted to pant. Grab me, please. I'd have walked out with him there and then if he'd asked me. Heck, he didn't even need to ask me. He could've just taken me and thrown me over his shoulder and walked out with me and I'd have gone willingly.

Eagerly.

And okay, when we did that slow dance thing, me in his arms, feeling him so hard against me, I did pant. I didn't object when he held me close, his hands on my hips, my arms flowing round his neck and my head resting against his chest as I moved with him. My breasts pushed firmly against him through my thin lace bra and that white top. God knows where my blazer had gone. Back at our table somewhere maybe. Who cared? Not me.

My breasts and my nipples pressed against his chest, sending frissons of excitement through me. I tilted my head back to look up at him, knowing my face was flushed and excited. Knowing I was wearing that "kiss-me" look that I'd never felt with Wilson. My lips parted, the tip of my tongue flickering out. He moved his lips closer to mine, my mouth opened wider. Djävul kissed me right in the middle of the dance floor.

For a moment I hesitated, but we weren't the only ones on the dance floor kissing. More like some of the few that weren't. I opened my mouth wide to him as he kissed me, my tongue playing and teasing his as he probed and explored my mouth, savoring the taste of him, enjoying my own eager response. His hands slid from my hips down to my butt. He pulled me closer. His rock hard erection pushed with unmistakable firmness against the juncture of my thighs and the lower part of my belly through his jeans and my skirt.

My body melded against his as his hands pulled me firmly against him. My excitement didn't just rise, it surged as he moved against me, his hands holding me tight as his movements became increasingly blatant. I knew exactly what he was doing and I welcomed it, welcomed his movements, let his hands move me as he wanted, continuing to kiss him back, my arms around his neck.

That slow music ended, but I didn't want what we'd been doing together to stop. Neither did Djävul. One look passed between us and I knew that he knew I was his if he wanted me. His face said that he wanted me. We eased our way of the dance floor, back to our table where there was almost no-one left. None of my girlfriends anyhow. A couple of the guys continued to drink and eye the girls and we joined them and I was on Djävul's lap again. We were close enough to the entrance that when I saw some Chinese guy stagger in. I looked again.

Huh? This wasn't the kind of bar Chinese guys hung out in. Not by themselves anyhow. Not if they knew what was good for them. Girls like me, maybe, lone Chinese girls with lots of white girlfriends, but not Chinese guys. Not by themselves.

My heart just about stopped as I saw my Nemesis in person. Wilson. Wilson Wong. It was. He'd seen me and I was perched on Djävul's lap, Djävul's arm around me, sharing his drink. I closed my eyes for that special "oh shit" moment with myself. When I opened them again, it was real.

All too real.

Wilson Wong.

My personal nightmare.

He'd seen me. There was no escape. None. His eyes were locked on me. He was walking towards us. Well, not walking. Stumbling. Staggering. Bumping into people. Reeling. Djävul noticed him too. Wilson was completely and utterly and obviously drunk. God alone knows what he thought he was doing? Some lone dumpy little Asian guy down on the strip at midnight. By himself? So drunk he had no idea what he was doing. That was just asking for trouble. Even I knew that.

"You know the chink dude?" Djävul said, following my eyes.

"It's my old boyfriend, I thought I left him behind but he transferred here without telling me," I said, bitterly. "He did it to surprise me and I just found out before we came here." Jesus, I was hyperventilating. How the effing eff could that effing Wilson effing Wong do this to me? What had I done to deserve this? I mean, here I was with the perfect guy to swipe my v-card and swipe it good and who turns up?

Wilson effing Wong. Spit!

"I thought I'd just leave him behind and now I have to dump him. I was planning on telling him I was dumping him tomorrow. He wasn't supposed to know I was here tonight." Shit. Shit. Shit. I just wanted to cry.