This was originally a version I wrote before for a friend of mine, I'm sure she'll be able to tell she is, haha.
Enjoy.
At the end of the bar stood a massive, menacing bouncer, the look on his face deliberately intimidating. Ross snorted, seeing the ploy for what it was; a way to keep the peace in a place that cultivated disagreements by virtue of what is was and the purpose it served.
There were booths lining the walls and few round tables cluttering up the middle of the floor. Overall, the place seem crowded and loud, but not lively. An atmosphere of depression hung in the air despite the bawdy laughter.
Then suddenly the noise of conversation and rowdy music died away. In its place a heavy, expectant hush filled the air. Ross felt the hair on his arms tingle with a subtle awareness. Everyone stared at the low-lighted doorway of the bar. It couldn't have been more than a few feet wide, and 10 feet high. A faded, threadbare curtain was hung over it, and rustled a bit.
Ross stared, feeling as mesmerized as everyone else, though he had no idea why. Behind him, an old man coughed. A dirty bugger eased closer to the door, and the bartender bumped against the wood of bar on his left side.
Slowly, so slowly Ross hardly noticed it at first, music from a hidden stereo began to filter into the quiet. it crackled a bit, as if the speakers had been subjected to excessive volume. It started out low and easy and gradually built to rousing tempo that made him think of the Lone Ranger series. All the men who'd previously been loud were now subdued and waiting.
The curtain across the door parted just as the music grabbed a bouncing beat and took off life a horse given his lead. Ross caught his breath.
A woman, who went by the name of Laura, slight in build except for her truly exceptional bussom, burst through the doors in what seem to be an aerobic display except that she moved with the music...and it looked seductive as hell. He'd seen his sister Rydel do similar steps while exercising, but then, his sister didn't have an ass like her, and she was always dressed in sweats when she worked out.
Nearly spellbound, Ross couldn't pull his gaze away. His mouth opened on a deep breath, his hands curled into fists and his body tightened. The reaction surprised him and kept him off guard.
As he stared he realized Laura wasn't exactly doing a seductive dance. But the way she moved, fluid and graceful and fast, each turn or twist or high kick keeping time to the throbbing beat, had every man in the bar-including Ross-holding his breath, balanced on a keen edge of anticipation.
She wore a revealing costume of black lace, strategically placed fringe, and little else. The fringe glittered with jet beads that moved as she moved, drawing attention to her bouncing breasts and rotating hips. Her legs were slender, sleekly muscled. She turned her back to the bar, and the fringe on her behind did a little flip-flip-flip. Ross's right hand twitched, just imagining what that bottom would feel like. even though he already knew.
He cursed under his breath. The costume covered her, and yet it didn't. He'd seen women at the nearby lake wearing bikinis that were much more revealing, but none that were sexier. He didn't want others looking at her, but he could have looked at her all night long.
His possessive urges toward this woman were absolutely justifiable. She was his girlfriend, so he tried to bury them away behind a dose of contempt while ignoring the punching beat of his heart, even if the . The audience cheered, screamed, banged their thick beer mugs on the counter and on the tabletops. Yet the her expression never changed. She didn't smile, though her over lush, wide mouth trembled slightly with her exertions. She had a mouth made for kissing, for devouring. Her lips looked soft and Ross knew with a man's intuition exactly how sweet they'd feel against his own mouth, his skin. Every now and then she turned in such a way that the lighting reflected in her vibrant brown eyes, which stared ahead, never once focusing on any one man.
In fact, her complete and utter disregard for her all-male audience was somehow arousing. She looked to be the epitome of sexual temptation, but didn't care.
She might have danced alone, in the privacy of her bedroom, for all the attention she gave to the shouting, leering spectators.
Feigning nonchalance, Ross crossed his arms over his chest and decided to wait until her show ended before finding the proprietor.
He hadn't had such a staggering reaction to a female since his teens when puberty had made him more interest in sex than just about anything else. But he'd grown up since then. He was a mature, responsible man now. He was...
The music died away to utter silence. The hush in the room was rich and hungry with the sudden overtake of the rigid silence.
She's beautiful, Ross insisted to himself, with his racing heartbeat, his clenched muscles and his swelling sex. And he had to take her soon. Maybe even now.
As the two brown eyes met in the midst of jeers and drunkards, he stood up, still struggling for breath. She took a bow, and smirked at him before taking her exit.
As Ross closed his eyes, she muttered one word in his ear. "Relax."
He obeyed, as she lifted herself upon the medium-sized table. Her fingers trailed down from his shoulders, before the hands hooked around his neck.
He met their lips in a hungry meeting, the small mewls that escaped from her lips every few seconds almost pushing him over the edge.
Ross was so hard he hurt. He desperately wanted to slide his hands up the backs of her firm thighs, to slip his fingers beneath the loose hem of the shorts she worse. Probably, he reasoned, she'd thought the shorts to be unappealing because they were old and gray and faded. But the material hugged her curves and they were loose enough in the legs that he could now see all the way to the tops of her thighs.
He slid his hands up her warm resilient calves. She had excellent muscle tone, and even as he stroked her, kneading her flesh, feeling her muscles relax, he admitted he was beyond pathetic when a woman's muscle tone brought him to the edge.
Feeling like a dumb lecher, he lifted one of her legs and was even able to see the edge of her panties, which-contrary to all he'd been telling himself-nearly made him erupt with carnal greed.
In a rasp totally unlike his normal seductive tone, "Fuck," he muttered.
"I wanted to go slow," Ross ground out as he jerked Laura's T-shirt high, pushed her bra aside and bared one breast. He had very large calloused hands, but even for him she was lush and full. "I wanted to make this last."
"Don't you dare go slow," she gasped, and gripped his head as he closed his mouth over one taut straining nipple. "Ross."
He pulsed with incredible need, his heartbeat wild and uncontrolled. She tasted even better than he anticipated, ripe and hot. With a low groan, she parted her thighs, using her body to stroke his erection, her movements sinuous and graceful, making him think of all the fantasies he'd had when watching her dance.
He sucked her nipple deep, drawing on her while his other hand he teased with the crease of her behind. "Do you know what I want?" he growled, and switched to her other breast. The nipple he'd just abandoned was wet and so tight he ached just seeing it. He pinned her against the table, knowing if he didn't slow her down he'd be gone in under three seconds.
Laura gave a breathy, barely-there laugh. "It's obvious what you want." Her small hand pressed between them and curled around his hard-on. "This is a dead giveaway."
Ross squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on holding back his orgasm. "Don't do that." He stepped away, putting an arm's length of distance between them, staring at her through a haze of lust. "I'm not sure how you manage it, but you set me off and I don't want to end this too quick. Not for me and not for you."
Laura looked at him while using the table for support. Her chest, bared from his petting, rose and fell with deep breaths and quick pants. Her legs were still parted, her hands flat on the wall beside her hips. She looked enticing and tempting and Ross wanted to drag her down to the tiled floor and bury himself inside her until they both screamed with the pleasure of it.
Slowly she gathered her wits and small, seductive smile curled that sexier-than-sin mouth. Her eyes were dark and inviting. "Tell me what you want, Ross.'
He didn't hesitate. "I want you to ride me. Hard. I want to lie on my back and watch you while you take your pleasure. I want to see all those sensual movements you make when you dance, only I want them for me and me alone." Her lips parted, her breath came faster. He added in a whisper, "And I want it all while I'm deep inside you."
She came awhile from the table in a rush, grabbing him and kissing him-his mouth, his throat, his chest. Ross palmed her backside, lifted her, and planted her right on the table. When her legs wound around him he had to stop for just a moment and kiss her deeply, but he could feel his passions on the boiling point, ready to erupt.
She pulled away from him, and started grabbing his shirt, trying to yank it off him. He did that for her, then wrestled her own shirt over her head, leaving it and her bra twisted around her arms to try to hinder her movements just a bit.
"You're pushing me, sweetheart and I can't take it."
"Damn it, Ross..." she struggled with the shirt and bra and by the time she had her arms free he'd already yanked her shorts and panties off. Standing on the back of his heels between her wide-spread legs, he whispered, "I could come just looking at you."
She moaned.
"Don't move now. I mean it."And before she could ignore that edict, he dropped to his knees, and caught her hips with his hands. He shifted his head forward and stroked with his tongue. She was already wet and hot and he grew voracious in his need to take as much of her as he could. "You taste so sweet."
Like a wild woman, she writhed and squirmed and cried out. Ross loved it all, just as he began to love her. His fingers bit deeply into her cheeks and he used his thumbs to open her further, stroking with his tongue and teasing with his teeth and breathing in her heady, musky scent.
His erection throbbed and strained against his fly, but he wanted her pleasure first because he wasn't at all certain how long he'd last once he got inside her. He'd meant to seduce her, but he forgot everything he knew about women and what they enjoyed. He acted solely on instinct, but it must have been enough. After several minutes of reacting to her moans and her small movements and her breathless encouragement, Ross felt her climax start.
Her hips jerked, her thighs trembled and she groaned, long and low and real, pressing herself against his mouth to take everything he could give her. He held her closer, used his tongue to stroke her deeper, faster and she came with all the energy she gave to her dance.
When she quieted, her harsh breathing the only sound in the room, Ross rested his fast against her thigh. Her completion, as if it had been his own, had helped to calm him. Idly, he traced his fingers over he slick flesh, her soft brown curls, making her twitch and moan.
He grinned. "This," he whispered, softly stroking her swollen folds before slowly, carefully pushing one finger deep, "was well worth the wait."
She moved to his touch, lazy, sated movements. He loved seeing her spread out naked on the kitchen table. When he pulled his fingers away, she heaved a long, shuddering sigh, and he decided he'd better not stall any longer or she was liable to fall asleep on him. And he knew he didn't want that.
Ross stood beside the table and stripped off his jeans. Laura watched him through heavy, slumberous eyes until he was naked. Then her cheekbones colored with renewed heat and her lips parted.
She took him completely off guard when she whispered, "I love you, Ross."
An invisible fist squeezed his heart. Every bit of calm he'd just achieved shot out of the ceiling.
He had barely the sense or patience to find a condom and put it on, especially when the second he stood up next to her, she pushed him onto the table. Without hesitation, she climbed up and straddled his hips. For a brief moment she cradled his testicles, testing his long-lost control, her small soft hand making him crazed. Holding back became torture, and he told her so.
She clasped his penis in her hand and thankfully guided him into her body. Ross watched as she slowly slid down to envelop him, and he groaned deeply. With only that initial stroke he felt his body drawing tight in prerelease. "Laura."
She seated herself completely. He held her hips and pressed her down farther; he was so deep inside her, her inner muscles gripped him and caught her breath on a gasp. When Ross started to life her away, unwilling to hurt her, she shook her head and braced her hands on his chest. Her gaze was cloudy with a mix of discomfort and incredible pleasure. "I want you."
Ross locked his jaw and concentrated on not coming. Laura didn't make it easy on him. At first, she held perfect still and Ross, teeth clenched and thighs tensed, did all he could to keep form rushing her.
Her thumbs found his nipples beneath the small blonde chest hair. "You are, without a doubt," she murmured, "the most gorgeous, sexy man I've ever seen."
His heels pressed against the edge of the table and his hands fisted her thighs.
Her small palms coasted over his shoulders, down his biceps then to his abdomen. "You're all hard muscles and lean strength and I've wanted you since the first time I saw you in the audience."
Ross felt himself jerking, knowing the end was near for him. "Move, damn it. Move."
With a feminine laugh of sheer power, she did as asked, lifting with torturous slowness, then dropping hard. It took a mere three strokes, three times of watching her beautiful body slide up and then down again on his rigid shaft for Ross to go mindless.
He cupped her breasts, arched his back, and exploded like a savage. To his immense surprise and pleasure, just as he began to regain sanity he heard Laura sob and opened his eyes to watch her take her own pleasure. He was still hard, still buried deep inside her. She rocked her hips, her breasts bouncing, until she through her head back and groaned out her second orgasm.
When she collapsed on his chest, Ross put his arms around her and held her tight. He loved her so much it hurt, but when he decided to tell her, he heard her breathing even into the deep rhythm of sleep.
Pushing her hair from her face he studied her features. Her temples were damp from her exertions, her lips swollen and rosy, her cheeks still flushed. He kissed her forehead and bridge of her nose. "I love you," he whispered, and though she didn't reply she did snuggled closer.
Smiling, Ross eased them off the table and carried her to the bedroom. He set her on the bed, and took a moment to remove the used condom and find the blankets. It took him scant minutes and he was back, pulling her onto his chest again, determined to keep her as close as possible. Forever.
Her heart beat echoed in his chest, and with his mind at peace, Ross dozed off.
Hope y'all liked it.
Check me out on twitter at whateversir21. :)
-Victoria.