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I tried to shimmy my way up the pole but it wasn’t working. I let out an exaggerated groan.
“You know,” Trace chuckled, “in my mind, this was a whole lot hotter.”
“I’m sure it was,” I retorted, “so keep on imagining it.”
Finally, I gave up on following the crappy instructions the girl in the video was spewing, and did my own thing. I tried my hardest to make myself look sexy but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding. When I caught sight of Trace’s erection tenting his shorts, I figured I was doing something right.
I shimmied around the metal column that served as my pole, and a hand snaked out, grabbing me around the waist.
Trace pulled me against his bare chest, and plastered his mouth against mine, before I had the chance to shriek. My body automatically responded, curving into his. One of his hands tangled in my long hair while the other rested against my back.
His hands slid to my waist and he walked backwards towards the couch, collapsing onto the cushions with me straddling him.
I cupped his cheeks in my palms, my fingers delving into his hair. He pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and let it go with an audible pop. I moaned, rotating my hips against his.
With skillful fingers, he undid the clasp holding my bra in place, and pulled the fabric from my body. He palmed my breasts in his hands before taking one in his mouth. I arched my back, biting down painfully on my lip to contain the mewling sounds that wanted to escape.
I buried my face into his neck, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Trace. The fresh woodsy scent of his soap clung to his skin, along with the scent of motor oil, and leather.
He released my breast and I found myself flat on my back, on the couch, with him hovering above me. His eyes were a dark lust-filled green. His chest rose and fell heavily with every shaky breath he took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him to me but he was too heavy.
“Please,” I begged.
He closed his eyes, and wet his lips, his jaw tightening. His right hand fisted my jean shorts and he flicked the button open. The zipper slid down and I lifted my hips so he could pull them off.
He suckled my neck, whispering, “I can’t resist you.”
I felt exactly the same.
From the moment I met Trace, he was my undoing.
He sat up and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a condom.
The rest of our clothes disappeared and he sunk inside me. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned into my ear.
I kissed his chest and my body arched against his. I felt like I was an instrument and Trace knew how to pluck all the right strings to make my body sing.
He licked a wet trail between my breasts and circled his tongue around one of my nipples, drawing it into his mouth, and suckling. The sensation shot waves of pleasure straight to my core and my muscles tightened around him.
“Oh, God, Olivia,” he panted, releasing the taught peak from his lips, and quickening his pace as he rubbed his thumb over my clit.
My fingernails dug into his arms and my toes curled.
He sealed my mouth with his and his tongue flicked lightly against mine.
My hands skimmed up his smooth back and settled in his hair. My eyes closed and my body tightened.
Trace drew back from my lips, and even though my eyes were closed, I felt his burning into me.
My neck arched and I whimpered as my body shook underneath him.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, “you’re so incredibly beautiful.”
I opened my eyes, in time to watch the expression of bliss tear across his face.
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He peppered small kisses all over my face and slipped from body.
