Pole Dance Read Free Page B

nipple here, a long slow slide of my vulva there, a quick turn to present my ass. For that moment, and with that beautiful music, I got lost again in the music, in my movements and totally forgot that I was an orphan deeply in debt and was just applying for a job. That I was just there to impress someone that could help me pay for the next two and half years of my life. I was caught up in the fantasy of being desired, needed. There is such delicious power in being sexually wanted and I was completely lost in the world of my own making, the fantasy of it, even if 'it' was just a cold, metal pole.
The last notes faded, I found myself on the floor, back arched in surrender, my legs lifted and intertwined around the gleaming brass of the pole. If that wasn't bad enough, I caught myself softly rubbing my now thoroughly saturated panties that were pulsating with my quivering, swollen, expanded leaves of pink, only separated from the delicious coldness of my steely 'lover' by a scrap of silk, and just a couple of hip thrusts away from the only ecstasy I'd ever experienced alone in my bed and with my fingers. To say that I was breathing hard would've been an understatement.
I don't know if there were simply a couple of beats of silence or if I kind of lost it for a while, but the next thing I was aware of was the squeaking of Jake's chair. I tried to disengage myself from the pole as gracefully as possible and glanced up only to see his back as he made his way to his desk. Pulling my hair from my face, I snuck a glance at the pole while I straightened to a sitting position, looking for tell-tale signs of wetness on its lustrous surface. Moving quickly, I got a whiff of my own arousal and hoped he hadn't sitting so close to the stage to see any smearing or to smell what my dance had generated within me.
Jake hit the switch on his desk and the bright light around the pole went out and the room's perimeter, indirect lights came back on. Those few seconds gave me the break I needed to shimmy my skirt down and maneuver my feet to the end of the stage. My blush was in neon, a throbbing of my upper chest neck and face following the few moments of my abandoned dance.
Jake slowly turned back towards me as he rounded the edge of his desk but, in the ambient lighting, I couldn't see his expression. My heart was still racing and I was still trying to find my breath.
After what felt like days of silence but were probably only a few seconds, I couldn't help but question, "Well?"
Using a 'come-hither' hand gesture while again directing his eyes towards my single-sheeted resume, Jake motioned for me to re-seat myself in one of the chairs in front of his desk. As I sat down, I realized I was primly tucking my skirt in and sitting up straight as if points were being awarded for perfect posture and deportment.
Jake slowly sank into his chair across from mine, never meeting my eyes, and, picking up his pen, started clicking.
Again.
"That was quite a show," Jake began. "Your choice of music was…"
"Inspired?" I asked hopefully, when he hesitated.
"Unusual," Jake affirmed finally looking at me although I could swear his amber-hued glance was at my chin. The clicking of the pen seemed to beat a faster tattoo as he spoke.
"And the dancing?" I asked trying to sound calm, cool and collected although I was again starting to sweat awaiting his response, his verdict.
The clicks were coming even faster and I found myself breathing in time to the rhythm of it.
"You're aware that you would be wearin' only a g-string if you were to become a dancer?" Jake asked rumbling quietly yet still avoiding my eyes.
"Ye-yes," I stammered but I could feel another tell-tale blush creeping up my neck to my face as I thought of exposing my bare, naked chest to Renee's pervs. It wasn't so much that I was a prude, at least that was what I told myself, but that I just wasn't used to showing my own uncovered self to strangers that had me trembling.
"Maybe I'm off the mark here, ah,