The Dancer, Part Six

Read Part One

Part Six

That’s right.

The earlier conversation with Autumn had explained as much. Her words from the bedroom echoed in my head. She had answered my question simply and to the point, but it didn’t change how daunting or embarrassing the answer was: “Your bra and underwear, Bella.”

Just when I had found my ‘stride’ giving lap dances with my cleavage constantly shown off to the whole party, I was reminded that there was more to do. And, considering I was currently straddling Autumn in said bra and with my skirt riding up, I was well past the point of calling this whole thing off.

“Bella.” Autumn poked the bare part of my breast to bring me back to reality. The surprise of being prodded that way kept me from snapping at her like I may have done to one of the guys, and I realized I had also been subtly swaying on her thighs even when I momentarily got lost in my thoughts. Damn dancer instincts. I wasn’t even sure if I was impressed or appalled with myself for doing so. “That’s two twenties. You should really mix your routine up. More money means a better dance,” she smirked, no doubt loving all the attention from all the onlookers. Our faces were still rather close, and her words were meant just for me, especially with the pounding music that filled the room and the rest of the house. “Let’s put on a good show, okay?”

“O-okay…” I muttered, meeting her eyes. Despite the trepidation in my voice, I managed to maintain the smirk I had plastered on my own face from the moment I walked in the room. And, taking a moment to collect myself, I got to work.

Guessing all the things I had already done to her and the boys before her weren’t quite enough, I started to improvise. My hands ran up and down her bare upper half, though I made a point to barely hover away from her chest each time, rather than actually touch her bra-covered boobs. And I got way closer with my face than I did with any of the guys. Inwardly cringing, I lowered myself to her chest, then shifted to her neck, and then to her lips, teasing her like I’m sure I had seen in some video at some point in my life. I was keenly aware of our bare legs constantly pressing against each others’ as well, but that paled in comparison to all the lewd motions I made to her upper half. 

Shit.

It took me way too long to realize it, but her hands were on my body too. Mostly holding my bare sides as I did all the work, but it still broke the physical contact rule I had enforced earlier. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “No touching,” I narrowed my eyes as I voiced my first and only personal stripper rule, and briefly took my hands off her body to pull her hands away. It didn’t matter if this was the most uncomfortable thing I had ever done. I may have been topless, but I was still a little in control.

Ashley just rolled her eyes, as if to say ‘fine.’

Guessing it was as good a time as any, I shifted back and stood up for a moment to turn around, then lowered myself down again to begin the second half of her dance. It was only once my skirt covered ass was in the blonde’s face that I realized the DJ was playing some club remix of “I Kissed A Girl.” 

Face lightly flushing, I ‘flaunted my body’ for everyone; my ass for Autumn, my boobs for anyone watching. Somehow, I kept a confident expression, but it somehow felt even more wrong to be doing this with a girl. It’s not that I’m against any kind of sexuality, but I’m just not into girls myself. Yet there I was, giving Autumn a lap dance as if I did it all the time. 

Remembering her point about how much she paid compared to everyone else, I even went the extra mile. When I had done about as much as I could creatively do with my body while straddling someone else, I got up and turned back around, leaning down as if I actually was going to make out with her. God, what was wrong with me? Half of me was playing the part, and the other half was thinking about the $500 I needed to ‘earn.’ But, instead of kissing her, I just gently took her blonde locks and walked away, letting her hair trail off in my fingers until she was out of reach.

Then it was time.

Autumn was my ‘boss’ for the evening, and she wouldn’t want me giving another dance without doing what she said first. So I tossed my own hair back and strutted back to the coffee table, stepping up onto the makeshift stage. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I was already in WAY too deep. Halfway done with my commitment. I only needed to last another 20 minutes or so, and I could go home and take multiple showers to get rid of the gross feeling that straddling Ryan and a few other pervy boys gave me.

And, as I took the ‘stage,’ I also realized I could kill a little more time up there to avoid future lap dances. So I let my body move with the music, making a few sharp movements with my head and hips. The cheers were somehow both mortifying and mildly helpful at the same time. Doing something like this to a dead room would have been 100 times worse. 

But I couldn’t delay the inevitable forever. Allowing my smirk to grow into a confident grin, I hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of the short gray skirt, eternally grateful that it didn’t have a zipper. Ugh, bending over was going to show off my cleavage again, but it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen plenty already. Resigning myself to my self-imposed exposure, I sloooowly lowered the skirt to the cheers of the crowd. Partly because my perfectionist self wanted to put on a good show, but also because the proper side of me was still faintly resisting.

Regardless, I made it. As gravity took it the rest of the way, my gray skirt pooled around my ankles as I reluctantly stood back up. 

There I was, standing on the makeshift stage and baring my matching black bra and thong to the crowd. 

And there was still more to come.

Read Part Seven

Previous
Previous

The Prefect, Part Ten

Next
Next

The Present, Part Three