The things that swirl around in my head – lap-dancing, today – I wouldn’t be your ordinary erotic dancer, four-inch heels would have me gasping for air in the stratosphere, and you’d be staring at my kneecaps as I strutted around you in your chair, a standard desk chair, it swivels like my hips, and has no arms – they’d get in the way – so as I strut, I trace my fingertips along your shoulder-blades, maybe they are a little cold today, like the weather, and my nails don’t dig because I keep them short, but I’ve painted them glittery burgundy in your honor, along with my toenails – yes, I’m barefoot – I’m told I’m good with them, maybe you’ll find out someday, but not today, as I pass around behind you; my fingers, they’ve found your top button and I couldn’t resist, two, three, and my hand is down your shirt – it’s getting warmer now – like my breasts that dangle tantalizingly close to the back of your head, brushing against your hair – do you feel me, I certainly feel you and give your chest a playful squeeze – alright, both hands, and now you can definitely feel my two pillows caressing your neck
what am I wearing you ask, not much, but as I said, I’m not your ordinary lap dancer, and my bra selection is limited mostly to running wear, since I spend so much time pounding the pavement, but a sports bra makes me nice and firm, nothing to bounce around, and bikini briefs – no thongs in my wardrobe – and have you noticed that I almost always wear dark colors underneath, burgundy today to match my nails and my hair, which I had done this morning – I’d indulge you with it, but it’s too short for anything particularly sensual now – oops – I’ve accidentally untucked your shirt, and unbuttoned it – sometimes I’m just on autopilot – I strut around in front of you; do you like my nice firm tummy, it pulses for your delectation, but maybe you don’t notice, since you are nuzzling between my breasts,
take a nice sniff, no artificial scents on me, I’m allergic to them, just normal body smells, sweat, pheromones, yes, I’m hot with them today – I thought about doing a striptease for you, but there is no teasing here, I’m serious, pulsing with the music – OK, maybe the bra can come off, I find them too confining, so off it goes and around your head – there, we bounce a little, just for you – and what do lap-dancers do – yes, I’m so there pulsing up against you, with you between my legs – I lower myself onto you – I need this as much as you do – there is so little fabric between us, and I can feel you pulsing with me as the music speeds up – have you ever had a belly-dancer on your lap – every muscle finely controlled for your visual enjoyment, but how about up against you for your tactile pleasure, jiggling my pillows in your face as my firm lithe body throbs around you ever quicker, firm – yes, we both are (snickers) – and I course my fingers through your hair because I’m getting carried away, I have a runner’s endurance and could go all night if you wanted me to, but maybe now’s the time for you to stick your tenner in my – well, the bra is gone, so I guess it will have to go in my panties, right there in front – go for it – I don’t mind it getting a little damp, not if it is earned through my pleasure and perhaps yours – put it in nice and deep, so it won’t fall out – yes, right there – no I won’t stop, not till I’m damn well ready, and I won’t mind if you put your arms around me, just don’t get any ideas – this is a business transaction – another tenner? – fifty and it’s a deal, go ahead, slip it in, nice and, ahhhhh, deep
YOU dreamt of me last night. I can tell. I can smell the sex on you. It never quite goes away in the shower. Don’t be embarrassed. I dreamt of you, too. I like that kind of dreams.
Did you get up and change your pants? Or did you sleep in your own mess? I kept mine on, but of course I wouldn’t make as much of a mess as you. I love that smell. I love love love that smell. I like my smell, too, but it’s not as prolific as yours, all over you, the sheets, the image of me that you dreamt about. Mmmmm.
Oh, you DREAMt of me last night. Was I role playing or fancy dress? Maid, nurse, dominatrix, I can do them all in dreams. I can even do men (if that is what you prefer) – that’s the power of dreams. They can do anything. You can’t control them. I can. Your dreams, that is.
You dreamt OF ME last night. Imagine the real thing. It’s even better. Do you dream in color? I do. Last night’s was red. Do you hear? Do you feel? Do you touch? I do. Especially in that kind of dream. Do you taste? Taste is my favorite sense; it’s related to smell. You can tell a lot about a person by how they smell, but taste does it for me. What did I taste like last night? Remember? I do. The bottom of your feet. Did you like that? Loved it. Remember? Well, pay better attention, because …
You WILL dream of me TONIGHT. I hope your partner doesn’t mind.