15: On his lap {M}

The medium-sized room is lit a dim shade of red.

It has no bed, Natalie notices.

Two one-man couches with armrests occupied the center of the room, one far away from the other.

Natalie glances back to make sure the bouncer was still rooted directly opposite the door with his hand joining at the middle and a mean look etched on his face.

With a shaky breath, she steps in and immediately she does, the door shuts close.

She slows her step till she stands a few feet away from the blindfolded man in front of her.

'How can a man be this beautiful?'

The man has long blonde hair that fell on his shoulders. The top button of his navy blue T-shirt is unbuttoned and the sleeves are folded up to the elbows. Natalie notices the tiny spray of body hair on his arm.

A few seconds passed and Natalie is still standing there awkwardly.

'There should be a book guide for these things...'

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come closer?"

She shuffles closer.

When he doesn't feel the familiar warmth of her 'ass' settling on his lap, he chuckles softly.

"You're new at this," he muses.

An embarrassed smile stretches on Natalie's lips and she feels stupid doing it.

"I have never lap danced before," she mumbles albeit shyly. Each finger worried the other and her lips feel slightly sore from biting it too much.

"It's okay. Come closer. You can't lap dance from over there."

Looking down, Natalie watches as her breasts jiggle with every step she takes.

'I know I shouldn't have let Kaller talk me into wearing this.'

She takes the final step that leads her in front of the blindfolded man.

The man stretches his hand and it takes a few seconds for Natalie to realize that he 'can't' see. She squeeze her hand in a tight fist before she slowly places hers on his.

A small smile appears on the man's face, "See, you've just passed the first stage of lap dancing. You deserve an ice-cream cone."

Natalie's brows shoot up as an unexpected giggle escapes her.

The man smiles again before he clears his throat, "What do I call you?"

Her answer is almost instant. She opens her mouth to reply but shuts it in the nick of time.

'I can't tell him my real name. What if he's a psychotic kidnapper? Or a killer or a hired assassin? If he is, he could just smile and I'll forgive him for killing me!'

"Dashae." Was her reply.

"Dashae?"

She makes a noise of agreement.

"Well Dashae, the next step is to sit on my lap."

'Sit on his lap.' Never in her life has she ever thought of sitting in a man's lap that's not either her boyfriend or husband. 'But it's for a new apartment, Natalie. You're just sitting on his lap,' she consoles herself.

Puffing out shaky breaths, she spreads her leg slowly before planting herself on top of the man.

'Such firm thighs,' she gushes.

"I'm going to touch you, Dashae. Relax." He says before he places both his palms on each side of her waist. The way she's positioned makes her hip wider and her thighs fuller.

"Are you ready?"

No. "Yes." She breathes out.

He removes one of his hand from where it rests to search for a tiny remote that controls the sound system. When he finds it, he clicks on one button and coordinated melodies rings.

Closing her eyes, Natalie gives power to her hips.

With each edge of the song, her hips gyrate slowly in a 360 motion. She moves her front against his and she gasps when she feels it...

The growing... 'appendage'!

The man, whose arms are wrapped around her, grunts loudly. He grips his hair tightly. God, what this woman waist is doing to him...

He's grateful she's gentle and fluid in her movement. The last dancer was actually quite... vicious. She'd thrown the little-chat-at-the-beginning out the window and went straight for the zipper. At some point, he had to remind her he was just there for a lap dance.

"Oh God..." He groans. He continues to grip the root of his hair as he rubs her side gently. He ignores the tiny bumps on her skin. Hitting another spot, her waist rolls again and he groans. This time, he pulls his hand away from his hair to hold the other side of her waist.

Hearing another groan, Natalie pauses. "Um... Do you...uh... Do you want me to get off?"

'Maybe I'm crushing him with my weight...'

If only Natalie could pull off the blindfold, she'd see the dazed look in his eyes.

"Fuck, don't stop."

That's the only assurance she needs. With flaming cheeks, she continues here ministrations.

Natalie suddenly feels grateful for when Joel would lock her home and she'd use those hours to practice slow dancing and watching cute lap dance videos online.

The rhythm changes and so does her direction. She grips, tightly, the armrest while moving at a much faster face.

Xavier sits up abruptly, his hands move lower to her thighs. He tightens his grip on her hips, thereby halting her movement.

"Lean closer," he instructs.

Natalie blinks rapidly before clearing her throat.

"I...uh... I'm sorry sir but kissing is no—"

"I'm not kissing you..." He trails off, a small smirk dancing on his lip.

Natalie bites her lip. Pleasing this very important 'patron' guarantees a smiling bank account and since he says he's not kissing her, she leans so close that they are sharing the same air.

"Hmm," Xavier hums, the sound rumbling in his chest. He could perceive the soothing smell of coconut and vanilla on her hair and he is pleased.

His fingers find her chin. He gently traces patterns—leaving a hot trail at it's wake—all the way to her lips. This forefinger rests gently on the tip of her cupid's bow.

Natalie makes sure she doesn't choke on the hitch that's stuck at the back of her throat. She feels his breath so close to her nose that it brushes against it occasionally. Their close proximity enables that with each puff of his breath, a whiff of creamed coffee hits her nostrils.

He turns her head slightly and noses her cheek. If she wasn't blushing 20 minutes ago, then she definitely is now.

"God, you smell hot."

'Oh, It's nothing! It's probably my cheeks catching on fire!'

He hums before he does something neither of them expected.

He places his lips on her cheek.

It wasn't like any regular peck on the cheek. It was like he was actually 'kissing' her. His plush yet firm lips sucks a tiny portion of her cheek into his mouth and then, he caresses.

Natalie gasps, her hands shoot up to immediately clutch on his shoulders for support. She knows she vowed some minutes ago not to 'willingly' engage in any skin contact with him but this is inevitable. It's either holding him or toppling to the floor.

He rests his palm on the side of her neck. He leans back, his breath hitting her cheek heavily.

He licks her cheek.

Natalie whimpers. She feels wetness pool on the tiny film called her panties, AKA g-string. He leans forward and pecks her cheek.

"Ahh..." She breaths out, rubbing his shoulder softly to distract herself from the way her nipples tingle as it brushes against his shirt.

"Dash—"

A loud beep-like sound startles Natalie. The door automatically opens and she flies off his lap.

"Wait, Dashae!"

Natalie picks up the robe from where she drops it and immediately wraps it around her. She looks back. A second. Two.

The ma breathing heavily.

Her lower body aching deliciously.

She runs out.

He rips of the blindfold too late...

Only to catch brown curly hair bounding out the door.

'Fuck.'