Your erotic stories

I’ve spent every Friday and Saturday evening over the last three months sitting at a small table near the corner of the stage at the Magic Dancer Club. I have a few drinks and enjoy the show as the various ladies strut their stuff on the big stage. It’s a very nice club if you happen to be into exotic dancing. It’s an upscale club with an affluent white-collar clientele. The floor is covered with expensive deep-pile carpeting, except in the lobby, which has fancy marble flooring.

The tables are fine oak with comfortable matching high-back chairs. The place reeks of money. Hell, a domestic draft beer served to your table by one of their sexy little bikini-clad cocktail waitresses will cost you six bucks plus tip.

The stage is a large curved four-foot high platform tastefully decorated with genuine-artificial plants, soft lighting, and red-velvet curtains with white-lace overlays.

The whole place has a quiet, relaxed atmosphere unlike any other club I have ever been in. Even the music the ladies dance to is soft; almost background music. You can actually carry on a conversation at the height of the show and not have to raise your voice to be heard above the music. But with those sexy ladies prancing around on the stage, who the hell would want to be talking? If any patron becomes a little too loud or does the unthinkable and makes an ill-mannered remark to one of the dancers, they are warned to control themselves, once. A rather large bouncer; or late-night host as Magic Dancer calls them, issues the second warning to them as he escorts the patron out the door. There is no such thing as a third warning. Actually, when you think about it, there is no second warning because you don’t get that until you have already been escorted out the door, after paying your tab of course.

#

Three months ago I paid my first visit to the place with a wealthy client of mine. I didn’t even know the place existed prior to that evening. My client said she liked the place and wanted to close our deal there over a few drinks. What could I do except join her? Hell, if she wanted to pay my company two-hundred thousand bucks to redesign her lingerie company’s ad campaign, who was I to tell her I didn’t like strip clubs?

We closed the deal over twelve-dollar a piece martinis in about an hour. My client had to leave shortly thereafter to catch a flight back to LA. I would have left with her, probably should have, but something on the stage had me riveted to the chair and kept me there for another three hours.

That something was a majestic lady by the name of Megan Devall. She was on stage as my client departed. Megan did a six-minute dance routine once each hour from 9:00 p.m. until 1:00 a.m. I stayed to watch them all.

I could not have cared less about the other nine exotic dancers performing that evening. Don’t get me wrong; they were all nice looking gals and did some pretty sexy routines, but Megan had moves the others could only dream of.

Her moves were not all she had going for her. She was absolutely the most gorgeous woman I had even seen. She had a long sensuous body with curves enough to tempt a preacher from behind his pulpit. When Megan danced her long slender arms and legs flowed like long silk drapes on a gentle breeze. She was the perfection of motion.

Each of her four routines was different. Her final number for the evening was and still is my personal favorite. I’ve never been able to determine if it was the way she danced to that particular music, or if it was the outfit she was wearing. I guess it really doesn’t matter because I’ve seen her perform that number at least a dozen times now and whatever it is about it still sets my heart ablaze every time. On nights Megan dances that routine, she usually saves it for last because she knows it sends the patrons out the door wanting more.

As soon as her music for the routine starts, the entire club becomes quieter than a mute-librarians’ convention. When the first note of Santino and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is struck, all eyes are riveted on the stage and Megan’s gorgeous body, as she performs a dance worthy of jealousy from a prima ballerina with the Metropolitan Ballet Company.

The outfit Megan wears for her “Sleep Walk” routine is the real turn-on. Her well-tanned flawless skin makes her white-lace bra and panties almost glow. To these, she adds a white-lace garter and white nylons with a feather-pattern lace up the sides, reminiscent of a white peacock. She does this dance on white, four-inch spike heels. Now add to all this her waist-length nearly white, blonde hair and you’ll have a fair picture of what I consider to be the most luscious hunk of femme fatale ever to grace this fine planet of ours.

#

I was at my usual table last Friday evening drooling over the beautiful Megan as she gave an unusually superb performance of the “Sleep Walk” dance. After her number ended all the patrons were preparing to leave. It takes them several minutes to get themselves together enough to leave after Megan’s finale; seems they always have rather protruding lumps in their trousers when she dances. I remained seated, mesmerized as always, to watch her until she would finally disappear behind the plush red-velvet curtains. I didn’t want to miss a single step that woman took, on or off the stage.

Friday night, she didn’t disappear as usual. She stood peeking around the edge of the curtain watching everyone leave. I was the only non-employee in the Magic Dancer at the moment, but that was about to change. Godzilla, the late-night host, was on his way toward me to escort me from the premises.

Megan stepped out from behind the curtain. “She’s okay, Jake. She’s with me.”

“Sorry, Megan. I didn’t know,” the monster replied, returning to his other closing-time duties.

I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say to the most exquisite creature on Earth when she approached my table. Only thing I could think of was, “Thank you.” Now, I’m sure that must have sounded really eloquent.

“No problem. I wanted a chance to talk to you,” she said in a voice so sexy it nearly melted the elastic off my panties.

“Me?” I tried to say without stumbling over the one word. I wasn’t very successful. Besides, sitting there with my mouth hanging wide open was probably a dead giveaway. I guess the sight of her standing right beside me, in her sexy white-lace lingerie had me all flustered.

“Yes, you,” she replied. “I’ve been seeing you here almost every weekend for the last couple months.”

“Ah, no Ma’am. That’s every weekend. I wouldn’t miss one of your shows,” I managed to get out. “I’ve seen you perform all four of your shows twenty-six times so far.”

“My shows? What about the other girls,” she smiled.

“Not to sound rude, but I only come to see you dance,” I replied.

“Why, thank you; I’m honored,” she purred. “May I sit down?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, please do.” I nearly fell over trying to pull a chair out from under the table for her.

“Let me grab my robe. I’ll be right back,” she said turning toward the backstage ramp. “Now don’t you leave before I get back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied. Hell, Godzilla, and all his cohorts couldn’t have dragged me outta there right then.

A minute later Megan returned wearing a short white-silk kimono with a curving silver dragon embroidered over each breast. She let it hang open when she sat down next to me. I could see, among other things, conversation on my part was going to be difficult at best.

“Ah, can I buy you a drink?” I asked. That’s the normal line in places like that and the only thing I could think of to say at the moment.

“No thank you. I don’t accept drinks from customers. They sometimes get the idea you owe them something if you do,” she explained. “But I’d love to buy you one.”

“Sure, if you think the walkin’-talkin’ bulldozer over there will let me stay long enough,” I replied tossing a glance in the late-night host’s direction.

“It’s okay as long as you’re with one of us. Hold on a second. Hey, Jake, would you mind asking Connie to make me a drink and one for my friend?” she called out.

“Sure thing, Ma’am,” the huge man replied with a big grin.

Moments later, he personally delivered the drinks to us. “Here ya go, ladies,” he said, placing them in front of us. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Jake,” Megan said watching the big man amble away. “Here’s to body language,” she toasted, holding her glass up and looking into my eyes.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, even though I had no idea what she was talking about. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring when she raised her glass. Funny, that was the first time I’d thought about the possibility of her being married. The idea of actually talking with her and getting to know such a classy lady had been too far fetched for me to ever consider before.

“I like yours,” she said.

“My what?” I asked. Damn, I hate being so far behind in a conversation, but I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.

“Your body language,” she replied.

“Huh?” I asked, beginning to feel a bit ridiculous. I mean, there I was, talking to the woman of my every dream and I was so befuddled I couldn’t even keep up with the conversation.

“Your body language. I’ve been watching you squirm around in your chair two nights a week for three months. Now that’s some powerful body language, if you ask me,” she smiled. “Just watching you wiggling around has been turning me on for weeks.”

I almost fell off my chair laughing. I had difficulty getting my breath back. “I can’t believe this,” I said through my tears of laughter.

“Why do you find it so humorous?” she said with a surprised look. “I didn’t mean for it to be funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at myself,” I apologized. “I’ve been coming here every night you dance because I think you’re the sexiest creature ever put on this planet and you say I’ve been turning you on?”

“Well, yeah,” she smiled. “I’ve been trying to build up enough nerve to come over here and talk to you for weeks.”

“Wait a second. I think we need to start this conversation over. Apparently I’ve missed a major portion of it, or is this the part where I wake up and find it was all just a dream?” I said, holding my hands out toward her and shaking my head from side to side. “Why would you be turned on by me? You have dozens of rich handsome men in this place every week ready to cream their Dockers over you. You could have your choice of any one of them in a heartbeat.”

“Exactly, and that’s why I never date any of them or any other men for that matter. They’re all in lust, not in love,” she said with a look of disgust.

“You’re gay?” I asked in surprise.

“Let’s just say I prefer the gentle touch of a pretty lady to the groping of a man,” she replied.

“This just keeps getting better,” I smiled. “Then I guess you assume I’m a lesbian too?”

“The way you watch me dance and the way you keep staring at my breasts right now, tells me you are,” she grinned. “Either that, or you’re at least a switch hitter.”

“Well, I’m not a switch hitter, if that answers your question,” I grinned. “And as much as I hate to say this, if you’d close your kimono up a bit, it would make it a lot easier for me to hold a conversation.”

“Oh,” she said, pulling the robe around her waist and tying it off. “Do you find something distracting about my chest?”

“Yeah, I can’t keep my eyes off of it and it makes it difficult, if not impossible to keep my mind on anything else,” I replied, sliding my tongue across my upper lip.

“Damn girl, don’t do that. You’re giving me cold chills,” she said, cupping her hands together under her chin and faking a little shiver.

I just smiled at her and slid my tongue back in the other direction across my lip.

“What say we get out of here?” she suggested.

“Sounds great,” I replied, astonished, not believing I was actually about to walk out of the Magic Dancer with the gorgeous Megan Devall on my arm.

“Wait here while I get dressed. Then we can go to my place and I’ll do my special private “Sleep Walk” performance for you,” she said standing up to leave.

“A special private “Sleep Walk” performance?” I asked. “How’d you know that was my favorite?”

“Easy, you squirm a lot more when I’m doing that routine. I’ll bet your panties are soaked by the end of that dance,” she grinned before going out of sight up the backstage ramp.

I sat there red faced. I had no idea I’d been so obvious about what her dancing did to me. I tried to imagine what her private “Sleep Walk” performance would be like. I was glad she wasn’t there to see the squirming that little mind game caused.

A few minutes later, Megan came out a side door, dressed in a somewhat-conservative white sundress. “You like? Not what you thought I’d be wearing, is it?” she grinned.

“Yes, I like it, and no, it isn’t exactly what I had expected,” I replied.

“Just think about this until we get to my place; under this little dress, I’m wearing your lacy lingerie,” she whispered.

I pulled the top of my blouse out and peeked down inside. “Nope, can’t be, I still have mine on,” I joked.

“You know what I mean. I’m wearing my “Sleep Walk” outfit home, just for you.”

“How often do you give these private performances,” I asked. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer. That’s none of my business. I was just curious.”

“That’s okay. I understand,” she smiled down at me. “Including the performance I’m going to do for you tonight; let me see; that’ll be a grand total of… one.”

“You haven’t done it for anyone else?” I asked in surprise.

“I’m particular about who I do private performances for. Besides, I wanna watch you squirm some more. And believe me, by the time I’m done dancing for you tonight, I intend to have you squirming around like a drop of water on a red-hot griddle.”

I did an imitation of her little fake cold-chill shiver. “I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll make you do a little squirming too.”

“I can’t wait either,” she said, taking me by the hand and leading me out the front door.

#

It took twenty minutes to get to Megan’s house on the outskirts of town. I was a bit surprised, to say the least, when I saw her beautiful home sitting back off the road. It was a large place in the middle of ten wooded acres.

“Wow! I knew exotic dancers got paid some pretty good money,” I remarked, “but I didn’t know they made this much!”

She gave me a small laugh. “I don’t get paid anything for my dancing; I own Magic Dancer.”

“Oh, I had no idea,” I replied. “Then why do you keep dancing there?”

“Well, two reasons, I guess. The customers seem to enjoy my dancing, but…” she said.

“You got my vote on that,” I interrupted.

“But mostly because I enjoy it,” she added. “I get a real charge outta knowing I can still turn the guys on just by getting up there and strutting my stuff,” she grinned.

“You’re so wicked,” I giggled.

“Not really. The way I see it, I’m still young; twenty-seven isn’t a bad age to be and already own one of the nicer clubs in town. I still have a fairly decent body. The guys seem to enjoy my routines and it also means I don’t have to pay another dancer to take my place on the stage. The dancing helps to keep me in good physical shape. Another thing, exotic dancing is quickly becoming a lost art. Sure, there’s a lot of gals out there shaking their cute little asses and boobs in everybody’s face, but they’re not really dancers, they’re strippers. That’s a completely different animal. I feel I’m doing my little part to preserve a dying art form,” she explained. “Besides, I love to watch those horny old bastards sitting out there with their hands in their laps and their wallets on the table, drooling over something they know good and well they can’t have.”

“I told you you’re wicked,” I giggled. “But does that include someone like me?”

“Like you, yes, but you, no. Sweet thing, you haven’t seen wicked yet,” she said with her melt-my-panties voice. “Come on, let’s go inside. I wanna give you the grand tour of my humble little abode.”

I followed Megan inside. The front room was a breathtaking experience in itself. It was a large room with a hardwood floor shiny enough to almost be used as a mirror. There was a big fireplace fronted by a nice sofa and chair arrangement and a baby grand piano off to one side.

“This place is huge,” I remarked.

“Yeah, it’s way too big for me. I keep most of the house closed down because I don’t need all that space and I damn sure don’t wanna be trying to keep it all clean,” she replied. “It’s some kind of tax thingy my accountant insists on; some sort of tax shelter. I don’t understand all that stuff, so I listen to her and do what she suggests. Let me take you out back and show you my pride and joy of the whole place. It’s the room I spend most of my off time in, other than my bedroom of course.”

We went out of the living room, into a gorgeous dining room, and through a gourmet kitchen, to die for. From the kitchen we entered a short hallway which ended in a small room lined with clothes racks and little cubbyholes like small lockers. It looked like a small locker room in a gym. To the left was a door marked “SAUNA,” to the right was another marked “SHOWERS.” The door straight across from the hallway was an open archway with a sign over it reading, “PARADISE.”

The archway opened on to a spiral staircase leading down into the basement. The basement was the most fascinating place I had ever seen inside someone’s home. Its decor was like a Pacific Island, complete with two large wooden totems standing guard at the base of the stairs.

Three-quarters of the immense room was occupied by a sparkling-clear swimming pool. It ran from wall to wall on the sides. The only way into or out of the pool was from where we stood near the front of the huge room. The back of the pool was perhaps three feet from the back wall of the room. In each rear corner stood a large waterfall-like fountain sparsely surrounded by live palm trees and other exotic plants, along a small sandy beach. The entire ceiling was dotted with sunlamps suspended between the florescent lighting.

“This is where I come to keep my tan nice and even,” Megan smiled. “I do a lot of nude sunbathing down here, at any hour of the day or night.”

“Sounds like fun,” I replied. “Maybe I could join you for some fun in the sun sometime.”

“Anytime you want, Sweetness,” she purred.

Megan flipped a switch in a small control panel in the front wall; water began tumbling over the waterfalls. After clicking several more switches, the sunlamps, along with most of the florescent lights went out. The few lights that remained on were low-intensity lights giving the whole scene the appearance of a moonlit island night. Another clicked switch filled the room with the melodic night sounds of frogs and crickets. It was simply breathtaking.

The front portion of the room was setup like a lounge on an island beachfront. It had a bamboo bar and stools. There were four small rattan tables with matching wingback chairs scattered about the bar area. Yes, I could easily see why Megan called this room Paradise.

I stepped to the edge of the pool for a better look. Megan gave me a little shove. I toppled over into the pool, shoes and all. Thank goodness I had left my purse upstairs. I must have created a huge splash because I landed flat on my back.

“Megan!” I screamed when I came up. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to do at the moment,” she giggled. Kicking off her shoes, she jumped in the pool with me. It was sexy as hell the way her sundress floated up around her waist.

“Well, I guess you’re gonna have to stay all night now so we can get your clothes dried out,” she purred, sliding her arms around my neck.

“Looks that way to me,” I agreed, slipping my arms around her slim waist, pulling her dress up higher in the process.

Our lips met with a sweet, let’s get to know each other kiss. Her kiss was soft and tender. Our lips parted, but our tongues played together between our separated mouths. Her tongue circled my lips, slid over my chin, up my cheek, and around my ear. Now there’s something that’ll set me on fire; a tongue in my ear just pushes all kinds of buttons for me. It didn’t take Megan long to figure that out either. Her hot tongue did it’s own version of the “Sleep Walk” dance over, around, and in my ear.

All I could do while her delightful tongue danced in my ear was hang on to her, but I did manage enough control of myself to slide my hands down over her gorgeous behind. It felt every bit as gorgeous as it looked; especially since her dress had floated up and there was nothing but those beautiful white-lace panties between my hands and her soft round buns.

I pulled her body tight against me. I felt her firm breasts pushing against mine. Her womanhood started moving against me. I heard her breath growing rapid in my ear. Her wonderful tongue began dancing faster. It was no longer doing the “Sleep Walk” routine; it was doing the “Twist,” and driving me crazy in the process.

I felt her hands slide from around my neck and squeeze their way in between us. Her tongue didn’t miss a beat in its attempt to drill its way to my brain as she unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it back over my shoulders. With all the hot action going on in my ear, I was helpless to assist her. Apparently she didn’t need my assistance because a moment later I felt my bra slip away. I was still holding on to her for dear life, when I felt the waistband of my skirt come loose and slide down my legs. By the time her busy tongue ceased its attack on my ear, I was naked except for my panties, which she was working desperately to remove. I helped her with that little project.

I stood there, naked as the day I was born, with my clothes floating around me in the pool. There was only one major problem with this scene; Megan still had all her clothes on, but that little problem would be remedied in short order. I got around behind her and unzipped her dress. I let it fall forward over her shoulders. She slipped out of the dress and reached around behind her back to unhook her bra.

“No, please don’t do that yet,” I almost begged.

“You do like this lingerie, don’t you?” she grinned, turning toward me.

“I wanna see you in it for a little while,” I replied. “I think it’s sexy as hell. Wow, especially wet!”

“Whatever floats your boat,” she said, sliding her arms around my neck again.

The kissed that followed was hot and deeply passionate. Her tongue did a slow sexy dance in my mouth. Her hands softly explored my naked body while my hands roamed over every inch of lace covering hers. Finally, I decided the lace had to go, it was in my way. Unhooking her bra, I let it slide from between us. Damn, her naked breasts feel so good against mine. She laid back and floated for me while I removed her beautiful stockings, garter, and panties, letting them drift away on the hot waves of passion our bodies were creating in the pool.

I kept her floating on her back with one of my hands under her waist, while I enjoyed the wonderful feel of her full breasts and hard nipples with the other. From her moans, I’d say she was rather enjoying it too. She floated there with one arm around my neck for quite some time while I slid my tongue around her nipples. She gasped when I sucked one of her excited nipples between my lips and flicked my tongue back and forth over it.

Gradually, I let my hand slide down over her firm flat stomach while my tongue kept her attention on her taut nipples. The light blonde hair between her thighs felt like silk against my fingers as they eased through the soft curls. Megan suddenly jumped nearly from my arm when I slid my finger between the tender lips of her womanhood. Her head almost went underwater. I stopped everything I was doing and grabbed for her to keep her from going under.

She got her balance back and stood up. I pulled her back into my arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I apologized.

“No, that’s okay. I was just so wrapped up in what you were doing to my breasts I didn’t notice anything else until you did that. You just took me by surprise,” she replied.

“It scared me, I though I had hurt you or did something you didn’t like,” I said.

“No, no, I was enjoying everything, Sweetness,” she whispered, starting that tongue thingy around my ear again. “It’s just been a very long time for me and I guess I’m a bit sensitive down there and I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Please don’t let my reaction upset you, please,” she whispered.

“Why don’t we get out of this pool before one of us drowns?” I suggested.

“Good idea,” she agreed. “Let’s go over by the fountain.”

We swam side by side, naked, to the fountain. I would love to have an underwater photograph of that. It would make a great poster for my bedroom ceiling, right over my bed.

When we got to the fountain, Megan slipped from the water and sat on the edge with her feet dangling in the pool. “I have one rule about the swimming pool. If you get out on the beach, you have to stand under the waterfall before you get back in the pool. There’s a series of filters in there that catches all the sand before the water goes back into the pool,” she explained.

“Cool,” I replied, wedging my way between her knees. I was still in the pool. “Slide a little closer to the edge,” I suggested.

As she slid forward, I pushed her legs apart and slipped in between them. I grabbed her hips with both hands. “Now lay back and relax. Let me show you my private dance.”

Megan quietly moaned as my tongue tickled its way up and down her long slender thighs. Her breath stopped momentarily when I let the tip of my tongue slip across her excited center when my tongue switched thighs. I teased that thigh for a few minutes before moving my attention upward to the beautiful meeting place of her lovely thighs. My tongue gently pushed its way between the soft folds of her flesh and found its way to that tiny bundle of concentrated nerves just inside. Her moans quickly grew louder and her legs curled up around my shoulders.

I was in absolute heaven. How many nights had I pined over this gorgeous creature as she danced for everyone’s pleasure? How many more nights in my sleep had I dreamed of an evening like this with her? I couldn’t believe where I was or what I was about to do. I was actually about to slide my delighted tongue inside the gorgeous Megan Devall’s most private place. Now there’s a private dance for you.

She grabbed my hair with both hands when I pushed my tongue into her warm slippery center as far as I could. Her hips rose up for a moment before she relaxed and enjoyed my attention to her needs. Her hips slowly moved up and down as I made gentle, caring, delicious love to her with my tongue. That evening was a dream come true for me and I wasn’t about to rush anything.

I brought her to the edge of ecstasy several times, but eased her back down before she could go over the edge. She was begging me to help her, to bring her to release. I loved it. Her taste was marvelous and her begging, delightful. I didn’t feel she was quite ready yet. I knew I wasn’t.

Every once in a while I would feel her hands slip from my head and try to work their way to the pearl of her sexuality. I grabbed her hands, pulling them around to her hips. When she finally experienced that wonderful moment of the euphoric bliss, it was going to be by my doing, not hers.

Sensing her need for release becoming urgent, I began to gently roll her swollen clit between my fingers and drove my tongue as deep as I could. Her hips rose from the pool edge. Her feet dug hard into my back. Her hands attempted to pull me deeper into her. Her body became rigid and began to shake. A low guttural sound, nearly a growl, rushed from her lungs. Her hot delicious juices rushed to my mouth. Her growl became a muffled scream as she slapped both her hands over her mouth. I drank as fast as I could, but couldn’t keep up with the flood escaping from her core.

Gradually her body relaxed and settled back to the pool edge. The flow of her wonderful juices came to a gradual end. Her beautiful legs collapsed from around my shoulders and dropped back into the water. She lay there, quiet, trembling, spent.

I slipped my arms over her thighs and began gingerly to clean her up with my tongue. She grabbed my head with both hands. “Oh God, not again, not yet,” she begged.

“I just wanna clean you up a little. You just relax for a few minutes,” I replied.

She slowly released her grip on my hair and allowed me the pleasure of searching out every last delicious drop of her lady-cum, which I did with the utmost attention to detail.

After completing my cleanup duties, Megan slowly sat up. She placed a hand on each side of my face and gave me the most loving, caring kiss I had ever experienced.

“I hope you weren’t planning too much on that dance I was supposed to do for you tonight. I don’t think you left enough energy in me to walk, much less dance,” she said in a soft, low voice. “That was absolutely wonderful. I haven’t cum like that in… God, I can’t remember how long.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” I smiled. “You can dance for me another time.”

“Tomorrow, I promise, tomorrow,” she replied.

“Okay, I can wait,” I smiled.

I hopped up on the edge of the pool beside her. We sat there a long time, just holding each other. I began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I was just wondering where you turn on that big washing machine?” I replied.

“What washing machine?” she asked.

“The one our clothes are floating around in,” I answered.

Megan began to laugh too, when she looked out into the swimming pool and saw our clothes floating all around.

“Maybe we better gather them up,” I suggested.

“Maybe we will, tomorrow,” she smiled. “But right now, I think we need to get out of this pool before you get all waterlogged. What say we go to bed? I think what I have in mind for you would be better done there.”

The sweet smile on her gorgeous face melted my heart. I sat there watching her as she stood under the waterfall rinsing the sand from her beautiful body. She was no longer Megan the sexy exotic dancer, the woman of my hottest desires. She was Megan Devall, the woman of my heart, the woman I just realized I was deeply in love with. I had to admit to myself; when I had come home with her that evening, it was because of pure out and out lust. But it had quickly turned into a thing of love. She was a wonderful lady who I enjoyed very much being with.

I was desperately hoping I wasn’t just a fling for her. I could only hope she was feeling the same way about me. In my heart, I know that couldn’t be possible. I wasn’t in her class. I mean, why would a woman of such beauty and style even look at someone like me under normal circumstances?

I don’t know why those thoughts were going through my mind at that point, but they were. Hell, I had actually only met her that night. I had watched her dance many times. I had even been surprised when she had came to my table at the Magic Dancer and talked to me. Now here I was, a few hours later, thinking she was the most wonderful person on the planet and hoping she felt that way about me. Damn, she sure was gorgeous standing there naked under the fountain with the water cascading down over her beautiful body. That would make a great poster for my bedroom wall, I thought to myself.

“Come on, Sweetness,” she purred after stepping out from under the waterfall. “Rinse the sand off so we can go upstairs.”

I stood under the waterfall, mulling over the things that had just been racing through my mind. I thought to myself, why do I let myself get like this? Why do I always go after something I know I can’t have? Well, something I can’t keep, anyway?

#

I followed Megan up the spiral stairs. The view of her naked buns right in front of my face was delicious. I had a very difficult time keeping my hands off of them. In fact, I had to cop a feel or two along the way. God, what soft, creamy-smooth buns the woman possessed.

She turned to the left once we were in the little locker room, going through the door marked SHOWERS. “I hate to take the time to do this, but if I don’t grab a quick shower after being in the pool, my skin looks all chalky when I get up in the morning,” she said. “Chlorine and all that junk, ya know?”

“I think a shower together would be fun,” I grinned.

“I thought you might,” she replied.

The shower room was tastefully decorated, keeping within the island motif. Megan turned on the shower, adjusted the water temperature, and stepped into the large stall. I, of course, wasted little time scurrying in behind her.

I stood against the far wall, watching the clear water rush over her splendid curves. The water seemed to be having a tough time making it around some of those tight curves. It rushed down her slender back. Taking the path of least resistance, it swirled around her beautiful buns and cascaded downward through the marvelous cleavage between them.

“Are you gonna take a shower too, or are ya just gonna stand there gawking at me?” she laughed.

“Gawk,” I replied.

“Get over here! Turn around, let me wash your back,” she ordered.

Her soapy hands felt wonderful gliding over my back and shoulders, but when she massaged my behind, it sent chills up my spine. What a wonderful sensation it created when her fingers slid up and down between my cheeks.

Her soapy hands slipped around my waist, pulling me against her hot body as she lathered up my stomach. Her slippery breasts felt delightful against my back. Her hands felt even better when she rubbed the soap over my breasts. My nipples immediately jumped to attention at her touch. I gripped the handrail for stability because my knees got a little weak when she squeezed both nipples between her fingers. Bolts of delight shot through my body when she pinched them a bit harder.

“Hey, that ain’t my back,” I teased.

“It is if you’re standing on this side,” she replied, continuing to torment my hard nipples.

I had no intention of arguing her logic. “I guess not,” I agreed.

While one of her tantalizing hands massaged my breasts, the other slid down over my stomach again and kept on traveling. It stopped when it reached the curls crowning my womanhood. She lathered that area nicely before easing a finger further down between my thighs. I gasped a little when I felt her finger gently slide between my nether lips.

She pulled me tighter against her body. “Relax, Sweetness. It’s my turn to make you feel good,” she whispered, kissing my ear again.

I relaxed against her, held tighter to the handrail, and let my feet slide apart. Her soapy finger tickling my clit was delightful. She held me like that for several minutes, just squeezing my breasts and teasing the swollen button of my sexuality. I moaned a little, nearing that wonderful moment of bliss. She stopped!

“Oh no, Baby, don’t stop now!” I begged, ready to explode.

“Oh yes. It’s time to go to bed. Let’s get you all rinsed down and dried off,” she purred. Her sweet melt-my-panties voice sounded wonderful, but at the moment, I didn’t have any on. Besides, I was on fire, in need of relief, now!

My hands shot between my thighs. She quickly grabbed them, pulling them away. “Don’t do that,” she said with a stern voice. “I’ll take care of it for you, after I get you in bed. Now do as I asked and get rinsed. Then I’ll towel you down. But please don’t touch yourself like that. It’s mine.”

Frustrating as it was, I did as she asked. After I stepped from the shower, she rubbed me down with a large fluffy towel, taking special care when she dried the sensitive areas. She wrapped a dry towel around me and made me sit down on a bench along the wall while she took a blow dryer to my hair. She made me sit on my hands so they wouldn’t wander between my thighs. She even made me spread my thighs apart so I wouldn’t rub them together. What the hell did she think I was, a friggin’ cricket?

The only thing running through my mind was, come on lady, give me a break! I need a little help here if you don’t mind! I mean, hell woman, you’re running around in front of me all naked with that sexy body of yours! You get me all fired up and now I gotta wait! If she’d stuck her tongue in my damn ear at that moment, I’d have gone off like a friggin’ nuke. Hell, if she’d just whispered the word “pussy,” I would have gone into instantaneous meltdown.

#

By the time we finally made it to her bedroom, my intense sexual fire had cooled down somewhat, but the embers still glowed brightly. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but after all the frustration she’d put me though, I figured it damn well better be good.

She turned the covers down and put me in the bed, propped up on the pillows in a seated position. “You sit right there and don’t touch nothing,” she ordered.

Opening a dresser drawer, she pulled out a negligee and slipped it on. “I bought this several years ago and have been saving it for a special occasion. I think tonight’s that occasion,” she cooed softly.

It was a long flowing Empress gown that seemed to float along behind her on whiffs of air. Its low neckline barely concealed her magnificent breasts. The transparent material, leaving little to the imagination, looked so delicate I just wanted to touch it, to feel its sexy silky texture.

After lighting several candles and turning off the lights, Megan turned on the stereo and put in a CD. When the music started playing, she struck a pose; one I hadn’t seen her use before. Of course, I had never seen her dance to classical music before either. That type of music normally didn’t do a thing for me, but Megan Devall had a way of making me like a lot of things I normally wouldn’t care for.

The music began soft and slow. Her movements matched its gentle mood. She danced as light as a fairy in a field of new dandelions, making me hotter by the second. I had never seen her dance so magnificently. The music gradually built in tempo; so did her movements. The music suddenly switched to a heavier, almost violent tempo; her hands roamed her body.

By the music’s finale almost fifteen minutes later, I had all I could do to keep my hands off of myself. Megan didn’t have that problem; her hands had been all over her gorgeous body. The music nearing its final crescendo, Megan dropped to her knees on the bed at my feet, with her hands dancing between her slender thighs. Stroking herself to the frantic pace of the music, she climaxed when the music did. She sat there on her knees with the hottest grin, nearly a sneer, on her pretty face. Goddamn, she had me hornier than a three-dicked billy goat and if she didn’t do something about it quickly, I was going to have to do it myself!

The music started over. Megan collapsed on top of me, pushing me down flat on the bed, and made love to me with the same finesse her dance had possessed. Her searing tongue danced over my nipples with agonizingly slow deliberate movements. My nipples slipped in and out of her mouth as if part of the dance. Her delightful tongue pirouetted over my stomach as the tempo climbed. A heavy upswing in the musical pace brought her hot prancing tongue to my open womanhood and over-excited clitoris. My God! I thought to myself as she circled that small, enraged organ, how close to supreme ecstasy can a woman actually come without crashing into it?

By the time the music had reached its final buildup, so had the fires stoked at the center of my soul. With the kettle drums pounding in my ears, my heart pounding in my chest, and Megan’s incredible tongue pounding deep in my center, my body abruptly surrendered everything it had been holding back.

They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Well, how about one that’s scorched? A frantic scream roared from my lungs as the first currents of euphoria raged within me. My body snapped to attention, arching from the bed, carrying Megan with it. An earthquake raced from my core in every direction at once, sending more waves recoiling back. My lady-cum flowed in total abandon while Megan’s unrelenting tongue pillaged deeply for more. More was not a problem, as my body relaxed from the first assault; it was immediately ravaged by a second, more violent onslaught as surge upon surge of womanly delight depleted what little strength I had remaining.

The third and final bout was quiet, gentle, even soothing. Megan lovingly eased me back to ground zero, leaving me drained and completely exhausted to drop off into peaceful slumber as she snuggled up beside me.

Megan gave my ear a tiny kiss and whispered, “You rest my Sweet. Turn over on your side so I can snuggle up behind you.”

Being cuddled in her arms and feeling her magnificent body in her silky negligee behind me was one of the most comforting sensations I had ever experienced.

“I think my private dance did the trick for you,” she said.

“It did that all right,” I mumbled. “You should do that routine at the club. But just the fist half,” I tried to laugh.

“The whole dance is special. Both parts of it are a must. I choreographed it a long time ago. You’re the only person to ever see it,” she purred.

“I feel honored,” I mumbled. “What’s the music called?”

“It’s Maurice Ravel’s “Bolero.” It’s considered to be the sexiest piece of music ever written,” she replied.

“Well, it’s got my vote,” I mumbled.

She gave me a little smack on the shoulder. “It better have,” she giggled.

#

I awoke in the morning to the wonderful smell of bacon frying mixed with the intoxicating aroma of fresh coffee. The big bed seemed even bigger and so empty without Megan in it with me.

I slipped from the bed, looking around for something to put on. All my clothes were still floating around in the swimming pool. The only thing I could find lying around was a thin white satin blouse hanging on the back of the closed bedroom door. I thought to myself, this’ll just have to do. I can’t very well go roaming around someone else’s house naked, now can I?

I slipped the sexy blouse on. Fortunately, Megan was considerably taller than I was, so the blouse fit like a short robe. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

“Not bad,” I said to the girl in the mirror. “A bit on the large size, a little too short, and much too see-through, but it’ll do for now.”

I opened the door after giving my hair a quick hand rearrangement and slipped down the hall toward the wonderful smell of the bacon.

As I neared the kitchen door, I heard Megan talking to someone. I couldn’t go in there dressed like that. I listened, but I couldn’t hear anyone else in there with her. I peeked around the corner and saw Megan standing in front of the stove with a phone stuck to her ear.

I eased back around the corner, not wanting to interrupt her phone call. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on her conversation, but I couldn’t help overhearing her.

“Yeah, she’s still here. She spent the night with me.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I was happy when we left there. We had a wonderful time last night. And this morning, I’m even happier.”

Silence.

“Yeah, she’s still in bed. I’m fixing her breakfast. I hope she likes it.”

Silence.

“Just bacon and eggs. I was gonna make her something really nice, but I’m so nervous, my hands are shaking too much to do anything fancy.”

Silence.

“Connie, I can’t help it. I’m scared shitless. I’ve fallen in love with that little lady. I don’t know what I’ll do if she leaves here today and I never see her again.”

“Yeah, I think she likes me, but you never know about things like that until it’s too late and they’re gone. And I’m not talking like here; I’m talking love. I’m actually feeling all queasy inside right now because I know she’s upstairs in my bed. I don’t know if I wanna be up there with her or if I just need her down here with me. But I need to be near her.”

Silence.

“I know. It hit me quick. She just does something to me.”

Silence.

I decided I needed to put an end to her worries. If she felt half as strongly about me as she was telling the person on the other end of the phone, I wouldn’t be going anywhere, ever. I slipped quietly up behind her and stood there for a moment.

“Okay, Hon, I’ll be in later, probably just before show time. Take care of things there for me today. I have more important matters to attend to right here at the moment.”

I slipped my arms around her waist from behind. She spun around to face me. I nuzzled my face up against her soft warm breasts and hugged her tight.

“Good morning, Love,” I whispered. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll be fine right here.”

“I gotta go, now, bye,” she said switching the phone off.

Megan laid the phone on the counter, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and held me tight. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked.

“Long enough to hear the most beautiful conversation of my life,” I smiled up into her face. “I didn’t mean to be eavesdropping. I didn’t know what you were talking about until I had stood there for a minute. Then I couldn’t leave. I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” she purred. “I guess it kinda alleviates any suspense you might have had about how I feel.”

“You have no idea how happy what you said made me,” I said.

“I guess I don’t need to tell you that I love you then,” she whispered, kissing my forehead.

“Yes you do. You always need to reconfirm that to me,” I smiled up at her and kissed her cute chin. “It’s one of those things I could never hear enough.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure you hear it enough,” she replied. “I love you. I know we barely even know each other, but I do.”

“I love you too,” I repeated her sweet sounding words.

“I like your robe, it’s sexy” she teased.

“I hope you don’t mind me wearing your blouse. I couldn’t find anything else and I wasn’t about to go through your closet looking for something to wear,” I said.

“I don’t mind at all. That’s why I hung it on the door. If you were gonna wear anything, that’s what I wanted you to wear,” she said, dropping her arms from around my shoulders. “Step back a second, let me look at you in it.”

I let my arms slip from around her waist, catching her hands in mine as I stepped back.

“Yeah, I really like that on you,” she purred. Her sexy melt-my-panties voice was back.

“Hey, I kinda like your outfit too,” I grinned. She was wearing nothing but a fluffy little bib-type apron.

She dropped my hands, picked up the lower corners of the apron, and did a cute little curtsy. “Thank you my dear, I figured you might like it.”

“I like it,” I said, pulling her back into my arms and lying my head back against her chest. I slipped one hand into the apron’s bib and gently squeezed one of her soft breasts. “Yep, I like it just fine.”

“If you get that started, your breakfast is gonna get burnt and we’ll never get to eat,” she whispered. “But I can go without food if you wanna keep that up.”

“I can too, but the bacon really smells great at the moment. I didn’t eat yesterday, at least nothing with much nutritional value to it,” I grinned up at her.

“How about some coffee?” she offered.

“Sounds great,” I replied, reluctantly letting go of her.

I sat down at the breakfast nook while Megan poured what I hoped was only the first of many cups of coffee we would share together over many mornings to come. I can’t be positive, of course, but I think my Magic Dancer was hoping the same thing.