Marked

We dispensed with the routine, Dancer and I. We went straight for the headspace.

It had been a while since we were together and we were physically hungry for the dance. She as much as I.

"Let's talk you off of the schedule", I offered, and we departed for a 1/2 hour in the VIP. Alone. In private. And horny.

An extended lapdance, in it's most literal sense. Our laps locked together in a slow, intense, over-the-zipper contact. Fucking, but not.

Embrace. Stroking, fingertips only. Breathing, mine heavy - hers shallow and ragged.

"God, I am so wet. You're pants are going to be one giant puddle!", she said - frustrated - as I paused to adjust.

"Oh...that's better", she said. And we resumed. Me nuzzling her ner neck as her silky hair enveloped me. Contact. Slow, sensual, intense contact. Private pleasure. And it's working for dancer.

"You're the only one that I feel safe enough or horny enough to do this with", Dancer whispers in my ear. And I allow her to feel safe. To have time for her. Rocking. Connected. Fucking, but not.

Dancer is distracted. The VIP is private, but not private enough and anyone might walk in. She's almost there, but not quite, and we pause.

"God, I just want to fuck you. I want to rip your clothes off and fuck the shit out of you. I am so goddamned horny, I just want to fuck right here, right now. Fuck!"

"We're not in a hurry, baby", I tell Dancer. "Make it good for you". I scoot down on the couch a little so that we're more laying out. I pull her against me, into an embrace, and I hold her as we resume. Holding her to me, holding her head in both of my hands on my shoulder, tenderly, as we resume. Rocking. Contact, perfect pleasing contact. Fucking, but not.

Her hot breath against my ear. My purring against hers. Deep ragged breathing. She's almost there.

"One more song", interrupts the bouncer as he sticks his head in the VIP.

"Damn", says dancer - and the mood is interrupted. We embrace again and ride out that last song.

"I am so horny", Dancer says as I pay and we embrace to part. "What am I going to do about that?"

"Hey, look at me. I can point North", I say to lighten the mood, with my arousal still evident through the front of my slacks.

My wet slacks.

My very wet slacks.

My very wet, shiny silvery glazed slacks.

Marked.


Thank you, baby. You are very special to me.