Page 25 of The Dance

My body went flush with his as Blake pulled me against his chest. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead, he spun me around, his front to my back. “Are you flexible?” he whispered near my ear.

“I’m a dancer,” I reminded him.

Taking a small step back, he unzipped the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor and leaving me in only my thong. “Then put your leg on the counter without stepping back.”

I was instantly turned on and said nothing as I did just that, raising my right leg. It was easy, given ballet barres were about the same height as the counter, and I’d used plenty in my day to stretch on.

Blake ran his hand along my smooth calf and up my bare leg that was on the counter. His hand glided over my butt cheek and then between my legs, and he pushed the fabric aside before running his fingers along my slit. “You’re already wet.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was all I could say.

“How many other guys have you fucked since me?”

Two fingers filled me, and I hissed. “I … I don’t know.”

“That many?”

I shook my head with my eyes closed as I clenched the edge of the counter, and he started to move his fingers up and down. “Two, maybe three.”

“And they all paid you to fuck them?”

I swallowed, not opening my eyes as I enjoyed the pleasure. “No, they don’t pay me to have sex with them.”

“But they paid you, and you fucked them. Isn’t it the same?”

“Technically.” I moaned as his fingers continued to work me. “But we aren’t sex workers.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to know how many girls I’ve fucked since you?”

Did I? We weren’t dating, and he’d told me before that he slept around. “I … guess?”

“Our numbers are about the same.”

“Okay,” I breathed. I just wanted to think of nothing except his fingers working me. We’d both been with other people and what was happening between us in his kitchen was purely sex.

“But they all wanted more from me, and you know I can’t give them that.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I couldn’t have more with Blake, even if I wanted to. I needed to continue with Sweethearts for at least another two years.

“But you, toots. You and I are on the same page. We fuck and get each other out of our system for a few months.” I moaned as he brought his other hand between my legs and worked my clit with two fingers in rhythm with his other hand. “But there’s something I need to know since you’re here.”

“Okay?” I panted, my eyes still closed.

“That night in my truck was great and all, but I need to know what you taste like.”

“Okay,” I exhaled. I wanted his mouth between my legs, and I wasn’t going to argue or hesitate in agreeing.

He dropped down behind me, his hot mouth replacing his hands. I moaned again as he licked my seam to my clit, flicking it with his tongue and making me squirm in delight as I chased the orgasm that was cresting. Sure, I’d had sex with a few sugar daddies, but Blake was nothing like them. He was pleasuring me when the others were about themselves and just wanted to get off.

“So sweet,” he murmured against my center, not stopping his ravenous torture on me.

Moments later, I was coming, my back arching and my hands clinging to the edge of the counter for balance. Blake drank me in, not stopping until I was sighing in bliss.

“Stay just like that,” he instructed, and I heard him working his shorts.

Looking over my shoulder, I watched as he sheathed himself with a condom. That night in his truck, I didn’t get to look at his cock because it was dark, and I was eager to get on top of him, but in the well-lit kitchen from the fluorescent light above us, he had an impressive dick. One that I knew felt good inside of me.

Moving the string of my thong out of the way again, Blake lined up behind me, ran the crown of his shaft through my slit a few times, and then entered me. I leaned forward, my leg still raised and my forearms and hands on the counter as he moved.