Marie screwed the top off the second bottle of bourbon and took a sip before passing it to him. Then she stepped away and continued to dance, growing bolder as she raised her arms and parted her lips seductively, never faltering in her movements, putting her very worthy assets on perfect display for him.
This was better than before, so much better. Logan drank deeply, wondering how to go about asking if she’d be okay with him jacking off to the sight of her. Because he was really very painfully hard at this point, and he didn’t know how much longer he could just keep sitting there doing nothing about it.
She turned her back to him, bent over to touch the floor, and slowly rolled her body back up, peeking over her shoulder to smile at him.
Logan whimpered. This girl had to make more than one-fifty a night. That move alone could’ve made a lesser man cry.
He set the bottle down when she finally danced towards him again. She stayed just out of arm’s reach, running her hands over her stomach as she swayed, inching her dress up just until he got a flash of bare thigh, a hint of a garter strap, then letting it fall back into place.
Logan bit his lip, starting to writhe in the chair a bit. He finally gave in and adjusted himself in his jeans. “Grrrrghhh, ahhhh . . .” By force of will, he pulled his hand away before ‘adjusting’ could turn into ‘fondling’.
“Gettin’ bothered?” Marie asked in surprise, toying with the thin straps of her dress. “I haven’t even got anything off yet.”
“Gettin’ me off,” he blurted. “I mean, can I—I’ll get myself off—if you don’t mind me—oh, fuck, forget I said that.” He felt his ears growing hot. He was blushing, sweet-Mary-mother-of-fuck, he was blushing, and he'd never been this nervous or excited before. He couldn’t believe he’d just asked her to let him touch himself while she danced.
But she wasn’t looking at him with disgust or pity. Far from it. Most of her shyness had faded when she spoke. “Well, I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me . . .” she began slipping the straps of her dress down her arms, “. . . get you off.” The dress fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it, kicking it aside.
Logan’s mouth went dry. Green. She’d gone with the green. Green silk. Green bra. Green garter belt. Green thong. Green was his new favorite color. He had a feeling he’d never see that shade of it again without getting an instant hard-on. “Best surprise ever,” he breathed, refusing to blink as his eyes roamed every last inch of her.
She smiled, the biggest, most genuine smile he’d seen on her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Love it,” he corrected, certain the sturdy wood chair would be left with indents, he was gripping it so hard. “God, you’re so fuckin’ sexy. This can’t be real. Shit this good doesn’t happen to me.”
Her smile widened even further. “That’s exactly how you made me feel about you, sugar. I’m gonna make you feel real good tonight. That’s my promise to you.”
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