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“Really? I’m your girl?”
“I hope so.”
“What does that mean exactly?” I asked him.
“I think it means that you’re my girlfriend and I’m your boyfriend.”
“Are you asking me if I’m going to be your girlfriend or are you telling me?”
“If it makes you feel better, I can ask,” he said. “But as far as I’m concerned, you are.”
“Really? I have no choice in the matter.”
“Of course you do. Harriet Campbell, would you do me the honor of officially being my girlfriend?”
“Depends,” I said, grinning at him.
“Oh, on what?”
“On if you’ll let me give you a real lap dance this time.”
“I definitely would not say no to that.”
“Good,” I said as he led me into the living room and put me down on the couch.
“But why are you requesting to give me a lap dance?”
“I’m requesting to give you a lap dance because I want you to see what a real lap dance from me feels like so you can stop telling people that the morning I served you an Egg McMuffin, I was giving you a lap dance as opposed to just sitting in your lap.”
“Okay, then bring it on,” he said.
I grabbed my phone, looked for the music app, and pressed play. A song by Dua Lipa started playing, and I started shaking my hips back and forth.
“Oh, yeah, baby.” Finn reached out to grab my waist, and I pushed his hands back.
“No touching,” I said, laughing. As I got onto the couch and straddled him, I stared into his eyes, ran my finger down his chest toward his crotch, and squeezed.
“I thought you just said, ‘No touching.’” He grunted as I moved my hips back and forth.
“You can’t touch. I can,” I said as I winked, then pressed my lips toward the side of his lips and licked my tongue down his neck.
“Fuck,” he said.
I stared into his eyes and laughed as I pulled off my top and threw it to the ground.
“Um, what is going on?” he said, looking delighted.
“I’m showing you what I do when I give a real lap dance,” I said as I unclasped my bra and threw it to the ground. My breasts bounced up and down, and his eyes widened as he stared at them.
He reached out to touch me, and I pushed his hand back. “No touching,” I said as I sat up slightly and rubbed my breasts against his face, my nipples grazing his lips. His tongue reached out quickly and licked, and I giggled.
“Finn.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But you can’t tease me like this and expect—”
“And expect what?” I said as I unbuttoned his pants, slid his zipper down, and pulled his already hard cock out.
“What are you doing?”
