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“Then you’d better get some extra ballsack serum because the next time I have your balls on my face, I want them to feel like silky little cum clouds.”
I laughed at both his ridiculous analogy and the proud, luminescent smile on his face.
“Now, give me a minute to figure out how this setup works, then you can sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.” Nick struck a pose that was probably meant to be over-the-top and silly, but only accentuated his good looks and the sexy outfit he had on.
I looked down at the “e” on his thigh. My balls twinged and my dick throbbed as it tented slacks.
“We have lots of time for that.” He licked his bottom lip, his eyes on my crotch. “First, let me get my dance on, then I want that in me.”
“As you wish.”
He tore his gaze from my dick and slinked over to the stage. I leaned back in my chair as he stared at the stage.
“Um, Ev?”
“Yes?”
“Does this thing have a remote or…”
“There’s a control panel built in to the side of the stage. On the left. My left. Your other left.”
“This?” He crouched next to it and flipped it open. “Good golly miss molly that’s a lot of options.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Now, what does this do?” The stage lights began flashing like a strobe light. “Oops, not that one. Seizures are not sexy.” The lights flickered off. “And what do you do?” This time the entire stage tilted to the left. “Eek!” He landed on his ass as he was thrown off balance. “Why? Why would you make a stage that can randomly turn into a Tilt-A-Whirl?” He pushed another button and the stage righted itself.
“Do you need help?” I asked, barely managing to stifle my laughter.
“I got it. I’m a professional, remember?”
Nick kept up a steady stream of commentary as he continued fiddling with the controls.
“There’s a manual,” I said after he’d fallen on his backside when the speakers had blasted what sounded like an air-raid siren. He’d turned it off just as quickly, but my ears were still ringing.
“Manuals are for people with no sense of adventure.” He poked at the panel. The lit floor began to glow softly. “There we go! Now to sync the lights with the music. You look like that could be your job.” He toyed inside the panel. “Am I gonna regret it if I press you?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to look at the manual?”
“Nope. I’ve got this.” He pushed a button with all the flair of someone launching a missile.
Soft music filtered out of the speakers and the lights flashed in time with the beat.
“Told ya!” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “One sec, I just gotta pick a song. I can’t dance to this.”
I didn’t recognize what was playing, but it was slow, the tone melancholy.
“Oh! Found one. This’s one of my faves. Ready?”
“Ready.” I settled in the chair and gripped the armrests, already wound so tight I felt like my muscles might snap from tension.
The opening notes to “Buttons” by The Pussycat Dolls filled the room and the pulse of the lights changed to match the beat.
Nick slowly stood, one hip cocked to the side and a hand on the pole. As soon as the vocals kicked in, he spun around and leaned his back against the pole, using it for balance as he gyrated his hips and ran his hands over his body.
I sat there, mesmerized by not only his beauty, but his confidence, as he danced to the song, using the pole as a prop rather than as something to swing and flip around like he had during Emily’s bachelorette party.
He’d incorporated belly dancing into this routine. I could barely breathe as he rolled his body in a slow, deliberate wave, then added some hip lifts, shimmies, and belly rolls that were almost surreal in their fluidity.
Every snap of his hips, low drop, and hot look made my already-rock-hard dick ache with desire. My body temperature rose as he slowly stripped off the shirt, then the skirt, leaving him in the briefs and thigh garter.
Around the two-and-a-half-minute mark in the song, when the music changed, Nick jumped onto the pole and spun around it, hanging upside down with his legs off to the side. He did a few more twists and spins, then flipped off it and landed in a crouch on the stage.
