A Lap Dance

jl_lapI’d carried on a conversation about nothing for a good ten minutes, batting my false lashes and giggling loudly at my customer’s non-funny jokes while toying with my hair.

“You are so funny, I didn’t know underwriting mortgages could be so entertaining!” I cooed and traced my nails over his back, perched on his knee in a teal sequined bikini. He smiled broadly, feeling like the king of the world. I mean, who wouldn’t smile like that while feeling like they’re entertaining the pants off of a gorgeous woman? Literally!

“So,” I smiled, toying with his hair, “how about that dance?” He nodded dumbly, and I took his hand and led him to the couches lining the room, making sure to add a bit of extra sway in my hips.

We waited for the previous song to end. ‘Come Original’ by 311 came on over the speakers. I hate that song. “Oh my god I loveee this song! Are you ready?” I hopped up from beside him on the couch, grinning as he nodded yes. “Alright, sit up straight.” He did.

I stood before him, swaying seductively and running my hands over my body. I slowly pulled the string of my bikini top, maintaining fierce eye contact. I put my hands on his knees and slid my body down the length of his body to kneel between his knees. I ran my fingers threw my hair, holding myself above him in feigned fellatio. I flipped my hair and looked back up to meet his eyes. He realized he was holding his jaw slack and making a dumb face, which he jumped to recover from.

I laughed to myself and slid up to straddle his lap, motor-boating him. I felt him start to open his mouth and leaned back sexily. Guys always try to stick their tongue out while they’re getting motor boated and it’s gross. Do you know how many faces have been between my boobs that night? That my tits are soaked in bronzer, perfume, and sweat? Yucky.

I brought my face close to his, giving the impression I was going in for a kiss. Guys love that.

Holy fuck, did this guy eat an entire Indian village for lunch? Hello curry!!

I held my breath and spun around, flashing a little cooter before sitting on his lap backwards. I felt him hard beneath me, which means I’m doing my job well. I frowned at his thin basketball shorts. Pervy guys always wear basketball shorts or sweats to get their money’s worth.

I leaned back against him, grinding into his lap, flexing a leg into the air. Then I felt a little moisture under me.

Gross ew gross avoid the cum.

I carefully maneuvered myself for the rest of the dance, avoiding the puddle. He chuckled nervously, trying to start conversation, embarrassed of the cum stain that was now glowing under the black light.

“Relax, sweetie. Enjoy the dance,” I whispered, sliding over his lap.

“Oh, uh… this never happens… I love this song! Come original you got to come original all entertainers come original!” He sang the song trying to distract me or himself from his embarrassment, as if awkwardly singing would make me not notice his ejaculate.

The song faded out.

“Cum original indeed,” I winked. “That’ll be twenty, babe.”

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By | 2016-10-15T07:11:37+00:00 September 9th, 2013|Categories: Articles|Tags: , , |0 Comments