by Lane Hart
Would it be inappropriate to ask him to take off his clothes, too? Or at least his shirt, so I can see if his chest and abs are as fit and muscular as I'm betting they are underneath the snug, black fabric?
“It's not fair that I have to stand here in practically nothing while you get to sit back, looking mouthwateringly edible with all of your clothes on,” I tell him. His eyes widen, and I’m not sure who is more surprised by my statement, me or him. Oh my God. Did I seriously just tell him he’s mouthwateringly edible?
He seems to recover first, flashing me a grin before he says, “You’re right. That’s not fair at all. What can I do to make you more comfortable?”
“Um, well, the least you can do is take your shirt off.”
“You want me to take my shirt off?” he repeats slowly, just to make me own up to my request again.
Fine, I can push my pride aside and ask for what I want. I mean really, I’ve already worn a freaking thong out in public tonight. My pride is long gone. “Yes.”
He stands up and starts to lifts the hem of his shirt. When it clears his head I realize I’ve lost my damn mind. Are they releasing some sort of nympho aphrodisiac through the freaking air vents in this place? That must be it, because there's no other explanation for why I'm trying to figure out how to get naked with a stranger when moments before I was ready to make a run for it. Another explanation is that my sanity has suddenly been replaced with eight months’ worth of pent-up hornyness.
And lord have mercy, his lean, chiseled torso is even sexier than I imagined. My eyes drop from his broad chest to either a six or eight pack of abs. I lose count, because with the way his jeans are hanging low on his hips without a belt to keep them up I’m struck dumb by two amazing pelvic indentions that plunge temptingly into his waistband.
“Wow.” I think something of the sort tumbles out of my gaping mouth.
The throbbing sensation going on in my thong bikini bottoms is making me desperate for a little more pressure or friction. Pressing my thighs tightly together isn't doing shit but intensifying the sensation. I need...I need my magical blue bullet or...even better, a man who actually knows what to do with his fingers, tongue or cock, preferably all three. The gorgeous man still standing there ogling every inch of me not only looks capable of easily accomplishing the trifecta, but despite his initial shyness at meeting me, his blue eyes hold a heated confidence that says Oh, baby, (cause that’s always been my favorite term of endearment for whatever reason), hold on to your titties, because I’m about to make you scream with a record-breaking finish. Yeah, in my fantasy he’ll also be a dirty talker, but I think I’d like a little of that cockiness in the bedroom. Okay, fine, I want him to burn my ears off with filth while he rocks my world.
It's a good thing he can't touch me because I’m so close to coming that if I sit down too hard I'll have a spontaneous orgasm. How freaking embarrassing would that be? Either way, I've wasted enough time. I need to do what I came in here to do, and try not to make an even bigger fool of myself. I dig deep to find a little of my confidence and any long buried seduction techniques I have inside me as I take a step closer to the sexy southern gentleman. He retakes his seat, slouching on the sofa while his eyes blaze with heated interest.
"So, is this the part where I'm supposed to climb up on your lap?" I ask, combing my fingers through my hair for effect. I'm pleased when my words actually come out sounding a little sultry.
"Hell yes." He answers gruffly with an even bigger grin. "And that was hands down the best question of my entire life."
…
Linc
Goddammit. I'm gettin' hard and Eve Kelly hasn't even touched me yet. She's just standin’ in front of me like the most erotic wet dream come true. Even more stunnin’ in person than on camera, her chestnut hair is beautiful and bouncy, her eyes lighter than the Carolina blue sky, wearin’ this itty bitty top that only covers her nipples that are beaded, and skimpy bottoms that cover her pussy lips and...that's it. Still, I need to see all of her in the flesh, or I think I might die.
Especially now that I'm thinkin’ about that scene, the one with her pleated skirt flipped over her lower back, amazin’ round ass stickin’ out while some man smacks it with a ruler, fucks her over his desk, and then makes her get on her knees to finish him off with her mouth. God, that mouth. Those thick red lips were made for kissin’. And, of course, cock suckin’.
"Get naked first." Those three very unexpected words actually come out of my mouth in a deep command I don't even recognize as my own.
"W-what?" she stutters. If I'm not mistaken, she even blushes like this is all new to her and she doesn't fuck men for a livin’.
"Naked,” I repeat, but she doesn’t make a move. Starin’ at the cock teasin’ fabric doesn’t make it disappear, either. “Come on, baby. I’m dyin’ to see you." I'm so turned on that I can only speak in one or two-word caveman syllables.
I would almost swear that her hand trembles when she pulls the string tie at her neck loose, then reaches around to the one at her back, causin’ the tiny, triangles to fall to the floor.
"Holy fuck," I groan at the sight of those divine, all natural tits with beautiful pink nipples. The tits I've stroked my cock to more times than I can count are right before my eyes. So close I could almost reach out and touch them.
Eve's chest is flushed and her lips are parted like she's gettin’ turned on, likin’ what she sees after askin’ me to take my shirt off. Her obvious appreciation only ratchets up my own need. Slowly, too slowly, her hands go to the strings on each hip at the same time and tug until they pull free and fall, leavin’ her naked from her head down to her bright red, fuck-me heels.
When she doesn't move, I glance back up to her face. Her downcast eyes seem unsure or hesitant as she gnaws on her bottom lip. One of her arms is wrapped around her slender waist like she's tryin’ to be modest and wants nothin’ more than to cover herself back up. The effect makes her look so damn innocent, and sexy as fuck. I gotta give it to her, she is one hell of an actress. But now I feel like a demandin’ asshole, barkin’ orders at her because I'm so goddamn horny my cock's about to explode.
"Come here," I say, offerin’ her my hand to bring her closer. Hopin’ to put her at ease, I try coaxin’ her to stop teasin’ me and finally sit her fine ass on my lap. Instead of persuadin’ her, my suggestion seems to have the opposite effect. Her wide eyes cut to the closed door and then back at me, appearin’ even more nervous than before. "You-you're not supposed to touch me."
Hearin’ her voice waiver like she's actually freakin’ out about bein’ alone with me sends a jolt of shame through my chest. I'm treatin’ her like she's supposed to throw herself at me just because she’s a porn star. Is that what I expected when I decided to meet her? For her to just fuck me because she does it for a livin’? I pull my offered hand back and rub both of my sweaty palms down my jeans to dry them. "I’m sorry. Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want-"
"I need to," she says right away. "I mean, it's fine. I just wanted to make sure we're clear on the, um, boundaries."
"Yeah, I got it. I definitely won’t touch you, okay?"
She nods her agreement and takes a few steps closer to me before she starts swayin’ her hips to the AC/DC song comin’ through the speakers on the wall. Her dancin’ is stiff and awkward at first, but then she starts to warm up a little and her movements grow more fluid. She cups both of her breasts, makin’ me groan when, no shit, my cock actually pulls a lyin’ Pinocchio stunt on me. Eve's movements stop abruptly, as her eyes lower to the totem pole erected in my pants. On the one hand, I'm incredibly embarrassed by the very visible arousal tentin’ my jeans, but on the other, my chest puffs out proudly since now she knows exactly what I'm workin’ with. Those male porn stars don't have shit on me.
"Wow," she mutters again, eyes still on my crotch. That one word indicatin’ she's impressed makes my shaft swell even bigger. "How am I supposed to give you a lap dance with…with the freak
ing Cock Ness Monster taking up all the space?"
After she raises her eyes back up to mine, we smile at each other in amusement and then both of us erupt into laughter. That small bit of humor seems to loosen her up, lettin’ her shoulders relax a little, so I try to keep it up. "I'd apologize, but nah, you'll just have to work around…Nessie," I tell her.
Eve giggles sweetly before slappin’ a dainty hand over her mouth. Her other hand waves in the general direction of my erection. "Could you at least try to, I don't know, contain it, maybe?"
My eyes holdin’ hers, I reach down into my jeans and wrangle control of Nessie. Foldin’ it up against my body, I use the elastic band of my boxer briefs to hold down the head. "Better?" I ask, unable to hide my face-splittin’ grin.
"Yes," she says with what sounds like a relieved exhale before slowly approachin’ me. My eyes are drawn to her tits as they sway in an incredibly hypnotic way with each of her steps. Tentatively grabbin’ my shoulders, she places first one knee down on the couch beside my outer thigh, and then the other so that she's finally straddlin’ my lap. Her perfect tits are now eye level, and I’m unable to stop starin’. The sight of those heavy, swinging temptresses, along with her sweet, citrusy, smell of fresh oranges, has my mouth waterin’. Her pussy, mostly bare with only a thin landing strip, hovers just a few inches above my swollen to capacity cock. My hands are practically twitchin’ with the need to touch her. I want to squeeze a handful of her breasts that look fuller in person than on camera, and swipe my two fingers between her wide open folds to see if she’s even a little wet with arousal. Is she turned on at all bein’ in here with me, or is she just goin’ through the motions, doin’ what’s expected of her?
The urge to touch her delicate areas is so intense that I have to grab the armrests of the couch cushions and hold on tight to keep them off of her. I brace myself for the magic that's about to happen, Eve grindin’ that beautiful body against my lap…except after five seconds I'm startin’ to think it’s very possible that she's never actually done this before. Her body rolls in this spastic lookin’ move, makin’ me absolutely certain that the inexperience is not an act. I realize this fact about the time that she leans backwards too far. Her arms start wind millin’ as she starts to fall to the floor. Thankfully I have quick reflexes, so I scoop her up, slappin’ both of my hands on her back to catch her. Her skin is so fuckin’ smooth and soft under my fingertips that I can’t resist slidin’ my palms up her spine as I lift her forward to my chest again. Eve lets out a startled yelp at the same time the door flies open, so hard the door knob bangs against the wall.
"Take your fucking hands off of her!" a giant with a crew cut yells at me.
Jesus. They actually do monitor these rooms like crazy. Once Eve’s firmly graspin’ my shoulders again, and I'm sure she's got her balance, I throw my palms up facin’ forward to show I've complied with his order. I might fight for a livin’ but I wouldn't last a second in the cage with this mammoth.
"It's okay," Eve tells the bouncer without turnin’ around, her head bowed and hair hidin’ her face. "I just lost my balance."
"Last warning," the man says, pointin’ a thick, meaty finger at me. He could care less about her explanation before he pulls the door shut again.
"Sorry," she says, her partially hidden face radiatin’ warmth from embarrassment.
"You've never done a lap dance before, have ya?" I ask, wantin’ to brush the hair behind her ear to see all of her beautiful face.
She shakes her head, her hair swishin’ from side to side in slow motion like those gorgeous women in shampoo commercials. Who would've thought a porn star would be uncomfortable doin’ a lap dance?
"If you want to sit right where you are for the rest of the time, that's fine with me," I tell her honestly. "I just wanted to finally meet you, and talk to you without hundreds of other men around." And touch you. God, I would give anything to touch her again. Otherwise, I have doubts that someone as absolutely mesmerizin’ as her really exists.
"Why?" she asks with a frown, raisin’ her eyes to mine again, seemin’ genuinely confused. "What's so great about...me?"
"Oh, baby, you have to know that you are absolutely gorgeous, and so goddamn sexy. Now that I've seen you naked, no other woman even comes close." Hell, I want to own every fuckin’ inch of this magnificent body straddlin’ mine and make her come apart over and over again until she surrenders it all to me.
"Seriously?" she asks with a disbelievin’ tilt of her head.
"Yeah. Actually, I was hopin’ you would be hideously ugly in person and a complete bitch, so that my obsession with you would end," I admit, shoving my sweaty fingers through my hair.
"Obsession? Should I be worried that you're a crazy stalker?" she asks with a teasin’ smile.
I know she's jokin’ and not exactly repulsed by me because her fingernails are at the moment caressin’ the closely shaved hair at the back of my head. I'm not sure she even realizes she's doin’ it, but there's no way I can ignore the goosebumps she's raisin’ up and down my arms.
"Yes, you should be worried," I tell her, completely enamored by her baby blue eyes. "Because you're not even a little bit of a bitch and are even more beautiful than I expected, so..."
"The stalking will continue?" she finishes.
"Uh-huh. Maybe even worse than before. You should probably go ahead and get a restrainin’ order."
"Right," she says, and then purses her lips tightly to keep from smilin’. "And what was your name again? You know, for the paperwork?”
"Linc Abrams."
I try not to be disappointed that she doesn't recognize me. I've never been a pompous ass about my accomplishments in the cage, and even hate the fangirls who throw themselves at me because of my name, but it would've been nice if she actually knew who I was and what I do. I have this bizarre need to impress her that I've never experienced before.
"Is that really your name?" she asks, raisin’ a dark eyebrow. “Because this says Thomas.” Her fingertips brush over the skin at my neck, pickin’ up one of three charms on my ball chain necklace.
"Thomas…Thomas was someone important to me that I lost,” I explain, swallowin’ past the sudden knot in my throat. “Lincoln is actually my real name. My parents always just called me Linc because they’re huge dorks. There was this video game a long time ago...”
“The Legend of Zelda?” she asks, surprisin’ me that she recognized the name so quickly.
“Yeah, actually. Since Link would’ve been an obvious giveaway of their dorkiness they decided to go with Lincoln, so it’s Linc with a ‘C.’ If I had been a girl, I’m pretty sure they would’ve said to hell with it and named me Zelda. Anyway..." My voice trails off as my eyes lower, despite how hard I try to be a gentleman and keep them on hers. "Your titties are so fuckin’ perfect." I’m powerless to stop the inappropriateness spewin’ out of my mouth as I glance down lower. "And I can't believe that at this very moment, Eve Kelly's pussy is practically touchin’ my cock through my jeans."
"What's so great about Eve Kelly's pussy?" she asks. "It's swallowed more wieners than all the contestants at the National Hot Dog Eating Championships. The same could be said for her mouth, too."
I can't help my burst of laughter. "Does Eve Kelly always talk about herself so negatively in the third person?"
"Only on bad days." She glances away and says this with her narrow shoulders hunchin’ inward. She looks so damn sad that a piece of my heart chips off.
"Is being here makin’ this a bad day?"
"Well, not here, here. But being in this club is pretty shitty; men grabbing my ass and tits, telling me the nasty things they want to do to me. I'd rather be at home painting-" Her light eyes widen and she suddenly stops talkin’, like she's said too much.
"You paint?" I ask in amazement. I'm tryin’ really hard not to think about all the assholes that touched her when she didn't want them to. Luckily for them, there's just one thing I'd rather do than jump up and go break all of
their hands and necks, and that's have her keep sittin’ on my lap. "Do you paint nude men or what?" I tease to try and keep her talkin’. My joke works. She smiles and shakes her head. I really like makin’ her say no just to see her hair bounce. I'd give anything to run my fingers through it.
"Not nude men. Mostly, um, nature, like outdoor scenes. You know, beaches and lakes, sunsets over fields, that sort of thing," she responds in a hurry.
"Wow, that's...surprisin’, but I'd love to see what you've painted."
"I'm not good or anything. I just do it for fun and can only afford cheap paint-" She stops abruptly again, lowerin’ her eyes like she's embarrassed after admittin’ she doesn't have a lot of money. I never thought porn stars were rollin’ in dough, but I would've thought they would do well enough to buy art supplies. That's fuckin’ sad as shit. I'm two seconds away from emptyin’ my wallet just to wipe that look off her face. But then she finally seems to relax, lowerin’ herself so that she's sittin’ down all the way on my lap. Feelin’ her weight on my cock sucks all the air from my lungs.
"So tell me, Linc Abrams, what do you like to do for fun?" she asks, givin’ me a smile that says she knows just how close she is to makin’ the Cock Ness Monster explode.
I swallow down my groan and order my tense hips not to do what they’re beggin’ to do; thrust my hard cock up into her. Back in control of myself, I’m eventually able to respond. "Since I've been out of the cage with a broken arm," I tell her, holdin’ up the brace, "Mostly helpin’ coach the younger guys and watchin’ porn."
"The cage?" she asks, her eyes widenin’.
"MMA, mixed martial arts."
"Yeah, I know what all that is, but you fight people, like, as a living?"
"Uh-huh."
She tilts her head and examines every inch of my face. "You don't seem like the type of guy who would hit people."