I think I heard Jefferson Airplane on the radio.
by Tropicalorange.
She smiled and reached down for the bottom of her pant leg. I kept eye contact as long as I could, only until her gaze fell towards her busy hands. Mine quickly followed.
She pulled at their hem but the pants were so tight it seemed as though they were fighting back.
She pulled at their hem but the pants were so tight it seemed as though they were fighting back.
Fighting against her kindness and my guilty desires.
She eventually pealed them up, semi-successfully, then I sat, bewildered.
I could sense her stare move up and notice my eyes hadn’t shifted from her legs at all. They surveyed and analyzed and began to ache as they were unable to absorb the beauty that lay in front of them. I almost thought she could feel the smile stretch across my face.
To me, the seconds that passed felt like time away from the homestead of realty.
I could sense her stare move up and notice my eyes hadn’t shifted from her legs at all. They surveyed and analyzed and began to ache as they were unable to absorb the beauty that lay in front of them. I almost thought she could feel the smile stretch across my face.
To me, the seconds that passed felt like time away from the homestead of realty.
A dreamer’s time zone.
Drugged with euphoria I looked up at her like a starving toddler and before I could even produce speech she nodded and that was all the permission I needed. I reached down slowly, for moving too fast would risk ruining this experience and I let my hand float down onto her unshaven leg, which I was being treated to.
I asked her weeks ago for the favor and I can assure you my end of the bargain will be hard enough to satisfy.
But I’m not here to complain.
When my hand touched her skin I could feel the spiky hairs pierce my flesh just enough to send a shock down my back and when my hand journeyed further up, the sizzling sound that was produced wooed my eardrums.
A twist of Beethoven’s 5th.
To me, each hair was like its own cat, purring as I caressed it.
I closed my eyes hoping to enhance the feeling but no sooner did her arms race to pull her pant leg down demanding “ENOUGH!”
I looked up at her rosy face.
At that moment, in that spiral of emotion, I knew what had to be done next.
After all, Gary from the room next door was getting impatient.
He was knocking at the door and usually I wouldn’t open it 3 inches for his trailer park ass.
You see, Gary is a bit of a lap dance junkie. Really, you can smell it on him. Whether it's his bud light endorsed gut, the sweat building up around his forest of neck hair, or his obvious habit of picking through daily news flyers looking for the walmart bra models, you wouldn’t even let this guy pet your dog.
And she knew this as she pointed at the door.
I can’t say I’ve ever given a lap dance before but I didn’t shed tears forcing this femme catalogue lingerie on for nothing.
Drugged with euphoria I looked up at her like a starving toddler and before I could even produce speech she nodded and that was all the permission I needed. I reached down slowly, for moving too fast would risk ruining this experience and I let my hand float down onto her unshaven leg, which I was being treated to.
I asked her weeks ago for the favor and I can assure you my end of the bargain will be hard enough to satisfy.
But I’m not here to complain.
When my hand touched her skin I could feel the spiky hairs pierce my flesh just enough to send a shock down my back and when my hand journeyed further up, the sizzling sound that was produced wooed my eardrums.
A twist of Beethoven’s 5th.
To me, each hair was like its own cat, purring as I caressed it.
I closed my eyes hoping to enhance the feeling but no sooner did her arms race to pull her pant leg down demanding “ENOUGH!”
I looked up at her rosy face.
At that moment, in that spiral of emotion, I knew what had to be done next.
After all, Gary from the room next door was getting impatient.
He was knocking at the door and usually I wouldn’t open it 3 inches for his trailer park ass.
You see, Gary is a bit of a lap dance junkie. Really, you can smell it on him. Whether it's his bud light endorsed gut, the sweat building up around his forest of neck hair, or his obvious habit of picking through daily news flyers looking for the walmart bra models, you wouldn’t even let this guy pet your dog.
And she knew this as she pointed at the door.
I can’t say I’ve ever given a lap dance before but I didn’t shed tears forcing this femme catalogue lingerie on for nothing.
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