EroticReverie

Tatum

The music plays, the lights moving slowly all around the room, purple and blue hues lighting the room, the sparkle of the dico ball twinkling everywhere and I watch the specs of white move over Kash as I stand on stage and start to move slowly to the song he chose, one I'd never heard before, but the woman voice is low, and the song is so unlike anything else i've ever danced to, but it works for the mood I'm in, the mood we're both in. 

I needed him, wanted him, had to have him. I was so wet , so unbelievably, ungodly horny for this man that I wanted to cry and beg for him to fuck me, even though he told me he wanted us to be out of our minds. But what Kash didn't understand, is I was already out of my mind with need for him. I always was. His face, his scent, his body, all of it, whenever I was around him, or even thought of him, my body, my brain, they wouldn't let me think of anything else. 

I was pissed at him that first night in the club, making me dance for him, making me want him. What was it about him? I'd met him a few times before because I had dated his son, but that night in the club, there was just a look in his eyes, one that flipped some kind of switch inside of me. 

I grab the pole, moving around, moving my body against it, and I'm so fucking horny, that I grind against it, seeking the slightest bit of pleasure for myself. He watches as I part my legs and with one hand on the pole, leaning back slightly, I grind my hot pink g string and my pussy on the pole as I bite my lip. 

He licks his lips and I watch as he shifts in his pants, and I see him reach for his cock, but then his hand resists and he speaks over the music. 

"Quit masturbating and fucking dance for me." he says. 

I laugh , but he can't hear, only see the way my mouth parts as I smile and I stop grinding myself on the pole and then take a step, putting my other hand on the pole as I spin around it. Knees bent, my hooker heels off the floor and then one foot at a time, placing them back on the floor as I stop my spin and then move around the pole again. With my back to him , I hold the pole as I bend forward, sliding my hands down the pole until they almost touch the bottom, my ass in the air as I face him, and then slide back up, as I wiggle my hips slightly. 

I turn, making slow seeps of my shoes across the floor, putting all that stripper ettiquette to use. I remember how sloppy I was when I first started, clomping around the pole like a horse in my thick heels. Then one of the veteran girls at the club had told me the only time the men should hear my shoes is when we purposely clack them together after a split on our back or on the pole. 

With my back to the pole, I lift my hands up behind me, grabbing the pole and then lifting off my feet, using the muscles I havent used in a few weeks, as I hold myself up while lifting my legs up in a v shape, and spreading them wider. His eyes going right to the hot pink slip of fabric covering my pussy. I can feel how badly he wishes he had xray vision, but I'm sure he's enjoying the wet spot on them just as much as if they were off me. I close my legs just a little and spread them again, then bring them down slowly and start another circle around the pole. 

I love the way that he looks at me, I love his eyes and how they feel everytime they're on me. I can feel his posessiveness in them. Some wouldn't find Kash's level of posessiveness hot, but I did. I was high on it right now. There wasn't even anyone else in the room, but it was almost like I could hear his own thoughts in his head. Mine, they were saying. Mine. 

I do a few more spins, locking the back of my knee to the pole as I spin. Then I do a few tricks for him, climbing up then, locking my body around the pole in a spiral as I slide down slowly as it spins. The move always reminding me of a snake sliding around the pole. I climb again and then flip myself and face down, letting myself do a quick drop, that ends as I squeeze my grip with my legs tighter right before I hit the floor. 

My hands go to the floor as loosen my legs and then look at Kash , an eyebrow raised , a small hitch of his mouth on one side, and I roll my head , letting my pony tail flip back as I sit on my knees as run my thumb under the tiny little pieces of hot pink fabric that are still covering my nipples, and I tease him. 

I still couldn't figure out what kind of "man" Kash was. Every guy had their favorite parts. Some were an ass man, some were a tits man. But Kash, I was pretty sure he was an everything man. At least that's how he made it seem, because he loved looking at every part of me. His eyes always going dark, like I was showing him something so erotic , something special that he'd never seen before. I pull the fabric to the side and I see the exhale, the deflation of his chest as he lets out whatever breath he was holding as I show him my bare breasts. 

The song changes and it's another slower one, and seems to be by the same sultry female voice and i reach up, untying the part behind my neck, and then my back, and I toss the flimsy fabric across the few feet of space and it lands on his chest, slipping down into his lap. 

I give a little smirk and then place my hands to the floor of the stage and leans down, letting my nipples barely brush the floor as I stick my ass in the air, then swing my legs around and put my back to him. Spreading my knees slightly as I bounce my ass at him. Reaching down between my legs, I run my hand back over the fabric that clings to my pussy, and drag a finger from my ass to my pussy and then back up. 

I bring my hand forward, and then move my feet out, and put myself into a split, and lean forward and bounce my ass again as I look over my shoulder with a grin. But his eyes are on my ass, and I close my legs, letting my feet move up and down one at a time with my heels and then pull myself up and start to dance around the pole again. 

I was dying inside, trying to remain sexy, when all I wanted to do was beg him, like a pathetic horny little pervert to fuck me stupid. 

I end up working off the g string and tossing that to him as well, and then dance in only my heels, running my hands over myself in between tricks and spins, doing a bit more floor work, and then sitting on the edge of the stage and then pushing off and slipping to my knees on the floor, my hands going out as I crawl over to him. 

My eyes on his, neither of us smiling, both of ours looks intense as he spreads his legs for me, when I bring my hands to his knees and push my way up between his legs,, brushing my tits over the hard bulge in his pants as I push up further, dragging them against his stomach, his chest, until I lift up high enough to place my hands on the back of the chair and bring them to his face.

I know he's trying not to touch me, but he fails in seconds as his mouth latches onto my nipple, and his hands grab my ass and pull me into him, onto his lap and I grab the back of his head, my fingers in his hair as he bites my nipple, then the other, making me gasp and my head goes back as I writhe on his lap, my pussy using his hard to it's advantage. And I swear i'm seconds from cumming from how turned on I am. 

"Kash" I moan quietly, but he can't hear me from the music. 

I grip his hair harder and my hips move faster, grinding faster , and I cum. I cum on his lap, shuddering as his mouth sucks on my nipple, and I feel the growl from his lips vibrate against my breast and he lifts his head, as I whimper and he reaches up grabbing my face and makes me look at him, as my my brows pinch, my mouth open, panting as I tremble. 

"Did you just fucking cum?" he asks and I nod. His nostrils flare and then I'm shoved and positioned in his lap within a second, bent over his lap as his hand slaps my ass. 

"Who the fuck said you could cum?" he growls and his other hand grabs my ponytail, and I feel him wrap it around his fist and pull and I groan. 

"I had to" I whimper. 

"Oh did you?" he growls and then slaps my ass again and I squeal over the music with how hard he slapped my ass, but then he pulls me back up and into his lap , his hands on my face now as he pulls my mouth to his and kisses me fiercely and I almost cry. 

Nobody had ever made me feel this crazy, this fucking desperate. I loved how out of my mind he made me, it scared me that I felt so willing to give every part of myself to him. But I loved everything about him, even the parts that pissed me off. I loved getting angry with him, him getting angry with me, I loved that he didn't take my shit, and I didn't take his. I loved that he seemed to worship the ground I walked on, even when he pretended he didn't. I loved that he called me things like bitch, or a hot slut, when he couldn't stand how much he wanted me. It was his own fucked up term of endearment, and made me hot as hell for him. 

My hands are pushing off his jacket, pulling open his expensive shirt, ripping the buttons like a cavewoman as I can't get him undressed fast enough, can't get my skin to his quick enough. As soon as his shirt opens I press my tits his to chest and continue to kiss him wildly. Both of us panting hard and heavy, my core aching for him inside of it, as I work his belt and he groans into my mouth. 

I liked our banter, I liked that my smart mouth pissed him off, yet made him impossibly horny for me at the same time. I liked that he held so much power over me, and was dominant, yet, I knew how much power I held just by letting him control me this way. I was mad for him. I couldn't explain it any other way, I'd feel down some sort of sexual rabbit hole with him, and I was never finding my way back. I couldn't kiss him enough, my mouth frantic for his as I kissed him harder and whimpered into his mouth. I wasn't afraid of letting myself lose control with him. I wanted him to know just how he made me feel, like nothing would ever be enough. That my appetite for him, for us together, had not faded in the least. If anything I just wanted him more and more everyday. 

I liked him waking me up in the mornings to eat breakfast with him, I liked him texting and calling me multiple times throughout the day. He played games, but not the kind that I hated. He didn't ignore me, or make me feel like I was ever an inconveinece. Because he always messaged me first. Or called me first when he was at work. The past few days, it was right after he left, still in the car on the way to work, even though we'd just seen each other, just had amazing sex in his bed or on the dining room table before he left for work. 

He was perfect. Imperfectly so. I needed him, need him in every possible way. 

"You're mine" I moan into his mouth and he groans. 

"Course I am" he says his voice as needy as my own. 

"fuckin look at you...what you fucking do to me Tate" he says and I know he doesn't mean the hard cock I have in my hand, stroking it as I lift up to put myself on him. He means how I've broken him down, made him want just me. Only me. The fact that I occupy his mind so much, he doesnt have the time to want anyone else. I make sure to give it to him so good everytime, posessive in my own way, to make sure that he doesn't have a need for anyone else. 

"Fuck me Tate" he groans. 

"fuck me" he growls.