Born Stripper [FF]

First post on my [blog](http://odetodinah.com/born-stripper) Enjoy…tell me what you think.

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We’d been talking for months. We did it all….heavy flirting, constant back and forth texting, long make out sessions, hugs that lasted way longer than they needed to. Maybe they needed to. We did it all except fuck, and I wanted her. Bad. She knew I liked her and I knew she liked me. I could taste the sexual tension between us, like the aftertaste of cheap wine and chocolate bars. Too much sugar. It was one of those nights she stayed over longer than she “meant to”, and was “too drunk” to go home. We rehearsed this so often it was unspoken now, subconscious. She’d stay over and we’d spoon or make out til’ we fell asleep, never going further than that. Innocent.

But that night we were laughing more, joking at one point about how broke we were. How strippers made so much money just dancing. We should be strippers, we concluded half drunk and giggling.

“You couldn’t be a stripper”, she slurred. “Can you even dance?”

“What??!! If there’s on thing I can do it’s dance baby girl,” I bragged with a swift sassy hand motion in the air still hysterical.

“Okay”, she went to the kitchen, grabbed a single chair, placing it in the middle of the living room floor and sits in it. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She turns on the perfect song. It’s the first time I’m hearing it but it feels familiar to my ears. The beat is heavy….almost as heavy as our attraction in that moment. I start to sway, hips first and the rest of my body follows…naturally. I never take my eyes off hers. She bites her bottom lip. I let my hands drift and caress my body, from the back of my neck, through my hair, up in the air, crisscrossing to my shoulders, back to my breast and down: outlining my figure. When my fingertips reach the edge of my shirt…I tug, pulling it up slowly: teasing. Her eyes flutter, watching me still. I slip the shirt off, and strut towards her. Still on beat. Still in character. I reach her in a few steps and grabbing the handles of the chair. In slow motion, I body roll into her, completely robbing her of all personal space.

“Fuck”, she whispers in the middle of it. I could feel the warmth of her breath. I knew what she meant. I felt it too. There was more than sweat dripping out of my body at that point.

She grabs my hips. I straddle her, grind, moving them in every direction to the last beats of the song. Our eyes unwavering.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/afn1n8/born_stripper_ff