A Dance for Him (3 page)

Okay, yeah, I guess I still want him to look at me, even if I’m kind of disappointed to see him here. Why not?
It’s my job after all
, I say to myself as I pause in front of the VIP room door and open it very deliberately, trying to hide the fact that my heart is pounding like crazy and causing my hands to tremble slightly.

He follows me into the room.

“Please sit down wherever you like,” I say, my voice polite - I’m still avoiding looking at him.

“Paige,” he says. There’s something oddly compelling about his voice, which is firm and pleading at the same time.

It’s also the first time he’s ever addressed me by my first name, as opposed to “Ms. Lytton”.

Reluctantly I look up at him.

He doesn’t look happy exactly - there’s something almost pained about his expression, and he’s staring into my eyes again, holding my gaze like he never wants to let go of it.

“I don’t want you to dance for me, Paige,” he continues. “I just want to talk.”

Fuck, he’s now giving me his sweet wistful romantic puppy-dog look. The exact sort of thing that used to make me putty in his hands.

But I can’t afford to get sentimental, or he’ll just end up breaking my heart. Besides, I might as well fulfil my fantasy of giving him a lap dance, even if this isn’t where I thought it would happen.

He’s hot stuff, after all, and who knows if I’ll ever get the chance to do this again? …

“You’re paying for this as we speak, Dr. Morland,” I say crisply, dispassionately. “I insist on doing my job. Oh, and in the club, as you now know, my name’s Tiffany.”

His face falls slightly - whether because of my coolness towards him or my insistence on maintaining my stripper persona I don’t know.

For a moment I feel sorry for him.

All the same, he sits down on one of the couches, where so many other men have sat, all hoping for a bit of assistance in blowing their loads.

I’m sure I can help out with that
, I think, with a strange, defiant scorn that I don’t even understand myself, and launch into my routine.

It’s almost a sort of challenge now, as far as I’m concerned, to be as slutty as possible, to see how long it’ll take me to make him come …

Standing in front of him, I suck on one finger wantonly as I start gyrating my hips, making sure the little dress that I’m now wearing rides up enough that he can see my lace panties.

While I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with him earlier, I’m brazenly holding his gaze now as I dance.

The look on his face - tense, aroused, suddenly predatory - just serves to encourage me further.

It doesn’t hurt that, for all my mixed feelings about his presence here, I can feel myself getting turned on in a way that I certainly never have for any other strip club patron. It’s funny, in class I would have been mortified if he’d smelt my excitement, but here, in this seedy little room with faux-plush décor, I’m almost proud of it. It’s as if we’ve both already confessed to being sexual beings by our mere presence here, and so no longer have to hide behind the veils of propriety …

Although maybe that’s just
my
take on it, because when I move towards him with the intention of climbing onto his lap, his jaw visibly tenses.

“If you must dance, Paige - Tiffany - that’s fine, but I’d rather you didn’t get on me.”

I turn red and back off. At first I wonder if I did something wrong and turned him off somehow, but a glance down at his crotch tells me what I need to know - that he has a massive erection, and probably doesn’t want to come while being humped by a student.

And in a strip club, no less!

It’s a revelation that restores my equanimity.

“As you wish,” I murmur, smiling knowingly as I ease myself out of my dress, taking care to run my hands sensuously over my curves in the process.

He blushes, probably understanding the reason for my smile, but at the same time I detect a slight furrowing of his brow.

A hint of frustration?

Ah, another challenge …

I go on with what I’m doing, fondling my breasts lasciviously as I push them up, then pull down the cups of my bra to flash him a bit of nipple before I unhook it and abandon it on the table.

His eyes widen.

He gives me the impression that he feels he shouldn’t be looking, but can’t tear his eyes away. I wonder if he was looking at me the same way when I was on stage - or is it more forbidden now that we’re not just up close and personal, but also very much alone?

I then turn round and bend over, so that my ass is practically in his face as I toy with my panties, as though hinting that I might want to take them off, but the song ends just as I’m about to do so.

Damn
, I think,
the one time I’m actually turned on by a strip club patron he has to be the one who specifically requests an air dance …

On the other hand, he’s looking absolutely ravenous as I turn back to him - I swear I saw his hands twitch slightly, as though he wanted to touch me, but had to hold himself back.

I smile sweetly at him as the next song begins.

“You know, Dr. Morland, I think it will be easier for both of us if you allow me to climb onto your lap for the next song,” I purr.

He turns very red, though he’s clearly considering my offer - he certainly isn’t saying no the way he was just now!

In an attempt to close the deal I slide one hand seductively into my panties. They’re soaked at this point, and the room is practically reeking of my excitement.

Surely he must know that I want him …

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, his face still flushed, “fine, go ahead, why the hell not.”

Triumph!

I climb on and sit on his lap, arching my back as I rub myself against his massive erection, letting my long hair drape over his face so he can smell it.

He inhales deeply and groans, which I take as my cue to switch positions.

Because yes, I want to make him come, but not just yet, not when the fun’s just beginning, not when this is my opportunity to explore that magnificent manly physique, to run my hands over his unbelievable musculature, even if only through his shirt …

I kneel on the armchair so that my legs are spread, with him sitting between them, and caress his shoulders and arms as I rub my breasts against his cheek.

His breath catches as he stares at me, his beautiful eyes heavy-lidded with lust.

He’s almost certainly gotten over the whole misguided scruples thing, thank heavens! To be honest, I think he’s just glad to have some relief in sight for his straining erection.

Of course, now that
I’m
feeling so desperately horny myself, I can barely remember why on earth I was so annoyed with him earlier.

He’s so fucking hot, and he smells so good, all I can think of is how I can seduce him.

When I started work here I never thought I’d think this, but he’s almost making me regret the club’s strict no-extras rules! …

“I know you like my tits, Dr. Morland, I’ve seen you looking at them,” I mewl in a seductive, little-girl voice as I tease him by positioning an erect nipple oh-so-close to his mouth.

So close that I can feel his hot breath on my skin - so close that, when his lips part instinctively, I can’t resist offering him a taste of the goods. It’s not something I’ve ever done before, but with him it just feels like the most natural thing in the world …

He takes me up on my offer, sucking on my nipple while looking up at me, his eyes dark and blazing with erotic need, his breath ragged.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful. It’s too bad he’s manfully holding on to the arms of the armchair rather than running his strong hands over my bare skin …

Instead I run
my
hands through his dark mane of hair - something I’ve always wanted to do, it’s so thick and luxuriant.

“You like what I’m doing, don’t you, Dr. Morland? I’m pretty sure you do,” I say, as I lower myself onto his engorged package, and squeal with faux-girlishness when I come into contact with it. “You’re so big, Dr. Morland …”

He looks up at me, and I smile, biting my lip seductively.

“I think you might need a little help with that, Dr. Morland,” I murmur, and adjust my position, making sure to give him a nice eyeful of an inner thigh before I arrange myself so that I’m lying across his lap, my breasts exposed, my hard nipples - one still wet with his saliva - taunting him with my desire and his.

For some reason, I find my refrain of “Dr. Morland” terribly exciting, it’s as though there’s something almost obscene about it. I don’t know why exactly - perhaps it’s because of the teacher-student taboo, the power differential, I have no idea.

All I know is that I’m so aroused that my skimpy panties are soaked and leaking onto his jeans.

Which means that he’ll smell of me after he leaves here …

I have no idea what
he
’s thinking, but he’s now smiling at me, his eyes dark with desire. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile in quite this manner … Fuck, he’s hot to begin with, but he’s even hotter when he looks at me like he could eat me up, just like that.

It’s pretty clear he wants me to make him come … luckily for him I have every intention of doing that, and so I part my legs and start grinding my ass slowly and sensually against his clothed erection while watching his eyes waver between my gaze, my breasts, and the thin wet triangle of fabric that’s the only thing standing between him and my juicy opening …

CHAPTER FOUR

It doesn’t take all that long for me to come - how could it, when I’ve had a raging boner since she showed up on stage in that little schoolgirl outfit of hers?

It’s a huge relief, really. Well, except for my knowledge that I’ve just been given a lap dance by my pet student - the one I’ve been jerking off to for a while now - and that she’s made me bust a nut in my pants …

Fuck, I can’t stop staring at her even now - she’s smiling at me, and she always looks so pretty when she smiles …

Hastily I reach for my wallet, grab a handful of twenties, and stick them in her garter, my fingers brushing ever so slightly against her thigh as I do so.

She freezes slightly as I do so, her smile shifting into a strange ambiguous expression.

“Thank you, Dr. Morland,” she says in a politely detached tone as she gets up. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this. See you in class?”

She can’t seriously think that I was trying to buy her silence, can she?
I think.

But there’s something more important that I need to deal with.

“You’re not going yet, surely?” I blurt out.

She raises a quizzical eyebrow. “I thought we were done. I mean, I
have
served my function, haven’t I?”

Fuck, if only she knew how it pierces my heart to hear her talk about herself in that cynical fashion. I mean, yes indeed, I came. And yes, I will probably be jerking off to my memories of tonight for a while yet.

But she’s so much more to me than just a
function
, even if I’m hardly in a position to tell her that anytime soon …

“Do you really want to go back out there?” I say instead. “That asshole Caleb is still there, I don’t expect the party is going to wrap up any time soon. He was saying just now that he wanted to book you for both himself and Brandon, and I think you know as well as I do that he’s unlikely to have changed his mind so soon after. I don’t know what your relationship with him is, and you don’t need to say a thing about it, but I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t very comfortable around him.”

She turns pale, her bravado disappearing the moment I mentioned Caleb. And although I told her she didn’t need to tell me who he was to her, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know. Ex-boyfriend? Stalkerish creep?

“I don’t have any kind of relationship with him,” she stammers. “I didn’t even know his name until you mentioned it.”