In the doorway of the hotel bar I glanced around, needing a moment to adjust to the low light level. My eyes met those of Enrique, the bartender, who made an almost imperceptible gesture with his head and glanced to his right. I followed his signal, then gave him an equally subtle nod of appreciation as I wandered in the direction he'd indicated. Not that I could have failed to miss the creamy skin, exposed by a deeply low-back dress, but without his prompting I may not have noticed in time to change my destination to the barstool two places to the girl's right. Casually, I set my my purse on the stool to the right of that, then took my chosen seat before appearing to pay any attention to my surroundings.
On the other side of the darkly tinted glass, there was still activity in the hotel lobby, though it was tapering off for the night. Inside, the air was cool, the setting tranquil. The pianist, whom I knew by sight, still had another couple of hours before she would return the player piano to automatic and call it a night.
Enrique brought me my gin and tonic. His guidance was worth a generous tip. I added it. How valuable the guidance became was my responsibility.
Sipping my drink,I glanced to my left. The girl looked up from her phone, caught my eye, and colored slightly as her focus returned to her game. Better and better.
As she'd noticed my look there seemed no point in dissembling, and I appraised her for a moment longer. Her dark hair curled at the base of her neck. It rested lightly just above her shoulders, but a wisp had slipped forward, over her ear, coiling below her chin.The narrow straps of her crimson dress were widely separated, running from a narrow panel at her collarbone over her shoulders and back under her arms to reconnect to the panel, wider at that point, shaped around her breasts by the connection. Her back was bare, but for the dark curls.
While her neckline was high, the dress was far from conservative, the tapered panel revealing a generous amount of intriguingly firm, shaded sideboob. My gaze lingered a moment longer before turning back to my drink.
I sensed the moment when she looked up from her game. "Waiting for someone?" I asked.
The girl looked back at her phone, then sighed and slipped it into her purse. "I don't think so," she said. "Not anymore. My husband texted me that he'd likely be in meetings all night. I think he's turned his phone off."
I had caught a glint of gold on her left hand. Now I turned to take a closer look. She had a flashy, ugly ring combo, out of keeping with her sophisticated appearance. I looked up to see she was giving me a weak grin, though her eyes flashed with heat as they met mine. "What about you?" The last word creaked with vocal fry, and she cleared her throat and took a quick sip of her tall drink.
"All alone," I replied. "A drink to unwind, then bed."
"You're staying here?" she asked.
"Working and staying," I agreed. "It's a good place."
The young woman gave me a dubious look. I wasn't dressed as a hotel worker, not in a leather jacket unzipped to the drawstring at the base of a very low black satin bra, or with the slit on the side of my long black leather skirt open to mid-thigh. I interrupted her train of thought before it reached "call girl." "I'm a croupier - slash - dealer."
She showed surprise. "Really? I thought gambling was illegal."
"It is," I agreed, "but it isn't technically gambling if there are no prizes. Patrons buy chips, but their stake is given to charity. The biggest winners get to direct a little more to their chosen charity. It's popular entertainment for business groups." I grinned at her. "The tips are real, though."
Her eyes flicked over my outfit again, then lingered on my face, taking in my light olive skin, chestnut curls, and green-hazel eyes. "I'm sure you get plenty," she muttered, then added hastily, "Tips, I mean. I'm sure..." Her words trailed off, her cheeks turning pink."
"I do." I held out my hand. "Harper."
She took my hand. "Is that a first or last name?"
"First," I said, the extended exchange allowing my to hold onto her hand. "Harper Nielsen."
"Faith," she offered.
I squeezed her hand, then released it slowly. "Good to meet you."
"And you," Faith agreed. "What business group have you been entertaining? The oil industry conference?"
"That's the one," I said. "They're very good tippers, though some of them can be handsy." I saw that she was frowning at me. "Oh, is that where your husband is?"
"Maybe you saw him?"
"It's possible," I said. "Do you have a photo?"
She nodded and took out her wallet. There was no mistaking the man in the picture she showed me, and I winced.
Faith caught my reaction. "What is it?"
"My co-worker, Guy, was going to join a group of conventioneers at a strip club. He backed out when... your husband... changed the destination to the Hutch. He claimed to have arranged for, uh, very special lap dances."
She turned back to the bar and gripped her glass, but didn't take a sip. Her cheeks had colored again, in anger, this time, her features sharpening as she set her jaw. The gap in the side of her dress distracted me, but I tried not to look. "Let me guess. It's a whorehouse"
Returning my eyes to my own drink, I sighed. "Not exactly. It's a gentlemen's club, but yeah. The girls are free to take assignations. They're investigated occasionally, and maybe one of the girls or one of the bouncers is sacrificed. It's a high-end club with well-connected clients."
"Typical," she said, her voice tight. "It isn't the first time. He promised..."
"I'm sorry," I said. "Let me get you a drink. Amends for bearing bad news."
She glowered at me for a moment, then gave me a half-smile. "I was going to stalk off and sulk, but why not?"
I gestured to Enrique, indicating both of our glasses. "Don't sulk," I said, grinning as I turned back to her. "I'm an entertainer. I can cheer you up. Or at least I can distract you."
Faith raised her eyebrows. "With what? A game of blackjack? Poker? Do you have a roulette wheel in your purse?"
Enrique approached with our drinks. I thanked him, with a smile, and picked up my purse. Dropping a note on the bar, I lifted my glass with its paper coaster. "Poker can be a good distraction," I said, "with the right stakes, but no. Let's take a table."
She picked up her own glass and followed me to a table for four. Taking a pack of playing cards from my purse, I sat across from her, then opened the pack and shuffled. Faith's eyes widened at the professional shuffle. "What are we playing?" she asked.
"Nothing," I replied. "I'm going to read your mind."
"That's not hard right now," she said.
"Working on that," I said, fanning out the cards. She chose one, and I told her to study it well, while I straightened the deck. She returned the card to the top, and I had her cut the deck several times before cutting it myself and spreading it out neatly, all of the cards face up.
"Give me your hand," I said, reaching to take it.
Faith responded automatically, raising her right hand, and I took it in my right, positioning it to lightly grip her wrist between my left fingers, my index finger close to the pulse point. She frowned. "You said you were going to read my mind."
"The way to read your mind is through your body," I countered. I held her wrist a little more firmly. I could actually feel her pulse, though it was irrelevant for the purposes of the trick. I already knew that her card was the nine of diamonds. "Now look at the cards. You can think about your card, but try not to look at it any differently from the others. That would make my work too easy."
To see the cards furthest to her right, she had to lean slightly to see past our joined hands. I moved them to my left, clearing her view, leaning forward in the process, giving her a full-on view down my 34D drawstring-enhanced cleavage. As I'd guessed - and hoped, given my motives - her eyes flicked upwards, pupils instantly dilating.
"Focus on the cards!" I groused. "You're hard enough to read without your heart rate spiking!"
Faith looked down, studying the cards, her cheeks slowly coloring. That was to the good. Enrique hadn't misread her, straight-married though she may be. I pretended to concentrate on watching her eyes and feeling her pulse for a while, then swept half of the cards into a pile and spread the other half, including the nine of diamonds.
I repeated this process, eliminating about half of the cards at each time, until I had only five cards left, the nine second from my left. I eliminated the two end cards, leaving me the nine, the queen of clubs and the three of clubs. Now I moved her hand over them, pretending to sense her reaction. I let it hover over the queen of clubs, as if I thought that might be the one, then stroked the back of her hand with two right fingers.
Faith startled, and I hushed her. "Relax," I whispered. "Focus on the cards. Just the cards," as I continued to stroke. Then I grinned, and lowered her hand to the nine of diamonds. "Got it!" I released her hand slowly, brushing it with my fingertips as I drew back, then stacked the cards.
She grinned. "What else can you do?"
"I showed you I could read your mind," I said, shuffling through the cards. "Do you want me to prove I can make you buy me a drink?"
Her lips quirked. "Why not?"
Taking the three cards from the top of the deck, I flipped the top one up to show her that it was the ace of hearts. I then dealt them out left to right. "Watch the ace," I said. "Follow it, and I'll buy you a drink. If you lose track, you owe me one. Okay?" Faith nodded dubiously. I switched the cards' places rapidly for a few seconds, then looked up at her.
She pointed to a card, which I turned over. Three of clubs. "You owe me a drink," I said, then turned the ace over. She frowned at the cards. She'd been sure she was right. "Again?" I asked. "Double or nothing?"
She nodded, and I repeated the trick, showing her the ace before dealing the three cards. Again, she missed, and looked more puzzled. "What do you do for a living?" I asked, and then "Again?" as I showed her the top card.
"Engineer," she said.
"I thought so," I said, as I dealt the cards. "You like to solve puzzles."
She nodded. "I work in a clean room a lot of the time, in a space suit. That's why I've been looking forward to a chance to dress up."
I shifted the cards around. Again, she chose wrong.
"That's four drinks you owe me. One more and you'll owe me a date, too."
She looked up. "A date?" She was trying to look shocked, but her cheeks had a rosy flush.
"Well, I can't drink eight drinks at once, can I? Want to try for quits? I'll go more slowly, just this once." I grinned at her. "And if you do fail, at least we'll get you out of your space suit again."
"Okay..." she replied, doubtfully.
Once more I showed her the ace, dealt the cards, then moved them around, still quickly, but not so fast that they weren't easy to follow. And again, of course, she missed the ace.
She sighed and shook her head. Technicians are easier to fool than artists. They're so used to dealing with direct solutions that they don't recognize when they're being manipulated.
I shuffled the cards into the deck, then searched through it again, removing a couple. "If I can fool your sense of sight," I said, "maybe you can do better with touch. This is your card," I showed her the queen of diamonds. "Diamonds is definitely you. Hold out your hand and take this between your thumb and finger." She did, frowning at the card.
"So what are you holding?" I asked.
"Queen of diamonds," she said.
"You're sure? Take a look." She did, and nodded. Definitely the queen of diamonds.
"This is me," I said, showing her the queen of hearts. I held it face up. "I'm the queen of love." I frowned, looking off to the side, as if in thought. "Or was that lust?" I grinned, then turned the card face down and slid it over the one held in her fingers. "I do like to be on top. Did you feel me slide in there?"
"Harper..." her tone wasn't quite annoyed.
"You don't like me being on top?" I asked. She rolled her eyes. "Then pay attention. Hold the cards firmly enough that you can feel them, but not so tightly that I can't move them." I took hold of the bottom card and slid it out. "That's good. Now, I'm going to slide you back in. This time I'll put it above the heart." I turned the card over for a moment so that she could see the queen of diamonds. I slid it back between her fingers, then drew it back out of her grip. "Next time it might be above or below. Like that, but I'll do it faster, and you need to tell me who's on top. Okay?"
She nodded.
"Ready?" I asked. She nodded again, and I quickly slid the card into her grip.
"Don't tell me yet. Do you think you know which card is which?" She nodded again, puzzled. It was clear that I'd put the card on top of the one she was holding. "Mmm, then let's see. I'll give you a chance to clear your bets. If you're right, you're free and clear. If you're wrong, we'll still cancel the owed drinks, but you come up to my room for tequila belly shots."
I heard her catch her breath. She covered it by turning it into a polite cough. Her eyes flicked over me. Whether she was aware of it or not, she wasn't entirely averse to the idea. She didn't say anything for a moment, so I added. "You're not sure?"
"I'm sure about the cards," she said. "I'm just..." She took a breath. "I'm sure. You're... well, the queen of hearts is on the bottom, and the queen of diamonds is on the top."
"And if you're wrong?" I asked, eyebrows raised.
She shrugged. "I agree."
"Let's have a look, then. Turn the cards over," I added, when she didn't do so immediately.
She did. Her eyes grew huge, and her face colored deeply as she looked at two black jacks between her fingers.
I smiled, trying to keep my expression of triumph muted. I carefully boxed up the cards and dropped them into my purse. Then I finished the rest of my drink. Faith gulped hers down. "Ready?" I asked her. She nodded. "Give me a second, then," I said, and moved up to the bar.
Enrique saw me approach, and moved over. "Could you spare a few slices of lime? And maybe some ice, to save me a trip to the machine?"
"Oh, my," he murmured, grabbing for a lime.
As he chopped it efficiently into slices, I asked him, "How did you know?"
"She watched you all the way from the elevator," he said. "Your psychic powers couldn't tell?"
"I have no powers," I said. "You know that. You, on the other hand..."
"When you sat beside her," Enrique said, "I'm surprised she didn't leap out of her panties in excitement."
"Working on it," I responded, dryly. "You did see the ring, right?"
He grinned. ""The ring may be gaudy, but it's small. I'm sure you'll be able to slip her clothes off around it. I have faith in you."
"You have faith?" I mused. "That's just what I'm hoping for."
He gave me a quizzical look as he dredged ice into a large disposable cup, but didn't ask further. He dropped the lime slices into cup, then winked as he handed it to me.
"Thanks again," I said, quietly.
Faith stood as I returned, eyeing the plastic glasses apprehensively. "Did I really agree to this?" she muttered, as we left the bar.
"Mm-hmm," I replied. "But I won't hold you to it, if you don't want to."
For a moment I thought she might take my offer and back out, but then she shook her head sharply. "You won fairly, and I knew what I was doing."
"I cheated," I objected, though I didn't slow my pace towards the elevators. "That's what illusion is."
She nodded. "Yeah, but you cheated fairly." She grinned. "You're better than I thought you were, and you got me good."
The elevator arrived and I followed her in. "Thirty-three," I said, and she pushed the penultimate button in apparent surprise.
"You weren't really monitoring my heart rate, where you?" she asked, as the elevator picked up speed.
"A lady never reveals magic secrets," I said, "and neither do I."
Faith had to explore my room. "How do you have such a great place? This is so much bigger than ours. And look at the view!" She opened the glass door to the balcony. "This must cost a fortune!"
"Likely," I agreed. "If I were paying for it. The hotel will give us a room that they haven't sold. Usually it's the pokiest closet in the building." I opened my suitcase and took out an unopened bottle of tequila and a plastic shot glass. "Sometimes when they're busy the small rooms go quickly, and a decent room is all they have left. Once I had a jacuzzi. Not this time, but I'm not complaining. It's still one of the better ones."
She turned back to see me unpacking. "You carry tequila and shot glasses with you?"
I set the bottle and shot glass on the nightstand, then turned back to the suitcase, taking out the lightweight bluetooth speakers I carry around, then plugged them into their charging cord. "My portable party," I replied. "Drinks and music for intimate occasions."
Taking my phone from my purse, I set it to airplane mode to disable calls, re-enabled bluetooth, then turned on the speakers. After they'd beeped connect, I selected and started a sensual downtempo playlist, adjusting the volume on my phone to a seductive background.
"Do you know how the shots work?" I asked as I headed for the bathroom. Returning with two glasses, I unwrapped them from their plastic sterile wrapper and set them on the nightstand.
"I've never done them, but it involves... umm..." Faith's face was coloring again. "Licking salt and lime, right? Oh! Do you have salt?"
Nodding, I turned back to my suitcase and took out a salt grinder in a baggie. She stared at it, wide-eyed. "A grinder?"
I chuckled. "Well, would you want to carry around a baggie of white powder? 'Honest, officer! It's salt for tequila!'" She nodded in understanding. "The texture's good, too. You'll see... but there are many ways to do body shots. Should we start with something tame, and then try belly shots?"
"How... many shots are we talking about here?"
"I'll only pour small shots," I said. "If we get too buzzed we can call an end. And no hurry!" I frowned. "Well, when will you need to leave?"
Faith looked thoughtful. "I guess he could call at any time..." She took her phone from her purse and stared at it for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, and turned it off. She looked up and smiled defiantly. "No hurry," she agreed.
"I'll take the first turn," I said. "Sit beside me." I sat on the left side of the bed, below the pillows, in easy reach of the nightstand. When Faith sat, I used the shot glass to measure a small shot into the regular glass.
Handing her a lime slice, I said, "Hold this between your teeth." She frowned, but did that. "Now sit still." I leaned to my right and licked her shoulder to the base of her neck, then took the grinder and ground a light dusting of salt along her pale skin.
I lifted the glass, then drank it in one large sip. Leaning to my right again, I licked up the salt, slowly, progressing to the base of her neck, using lips and tongue to caress her neck. I felt her stifle a shiver before I moved my face to hers, running my tongue slowly along the lime before parting my lips and taking it from her.
Faith's breathing seemed quicker as I sat back. I measured a small shot into the other glass and handed it to her. She took it and looked at me. Most of my shoulder was covered by my jacket. "Uh, there isn't much room for salt."
"Ah, right," I agreed. I unzipped my jacket further, then tugged it back over my shoulders, which had the side effect of gathering the zipper under my breasts and lifting them as it exposed my shoulder. Faith licked her lips nervously, then leaned over and ran her tongue over the newly-visible skin. She ground a little salt along where she'd licked as I gripped the lime slice between my teeth.
Then she took her shot, and began to lick the salt back up. She did it well, suckling the base of my neck briefly before moving to take the lime. I held onto it for a moment, forcing her to try again to take it from me before she succeeded.
"How was that?" I asked.
She shrugged. "It was okay. Not enough tequila."
I chuckled. "You don't want to get buzzed too quickly. Ready for the more advanced version?"
She gave me a dubious look. "Advanced how?"
"Belly shots," I said.
"Ah, yes," she said, apprehensively. "How does that work?"
"You can support a shot glass in your navel," I said, "or you can just pour the shot there. That's more fun. And you can still hold the lime in your teeth, or it can work better just to rub the lime on your belly to hold the salt. Or both." I grinned. "We have more than enough lime."
"You think?" she asked, giving the glass a sideways look.
"So you need to expose your belly. Maybe you could slip your dress off."
"No!" she yelped, then continued apprehensively, "I'm not... I mean, I don't have a..."
I knew, of course. No strapless bra made would allow the side view she presented. The dress included support. Still, no harm in asking, especially if the question embarrassed her. "I'm sure I have a tee shirt in my case that you could use."
"Hold on." She hopped off the bed. "Let me get a towel." When she returned from the bathroom, towel in hand, she told me to turn away.
When she allowed me to turn back, she had the skirt of her dress lifted above her waist, the towel over her upper thighs to hide her underwear.
"That should work," I offered. "Lie back."
She did, and I carefully rolled the hem of her dress inside and up, bunching it just below her breasts. Then I handed her a lime slice and poured tequila into the plastic shot glass and set it aside. Taking another slice of lime, I squeezed it against her upper belly, just below the rolled up dress. She shivered slightly at the touch of the cold slice. I worked it around, lightly coating her down to her belly button.
After grinding salt over the same area, I rubbed it with my fingers, seeing her lips form a slight smile at my touch. Then I moved to stand between her legs and slowly tipped the tequila into her navel.
Setting the shot glass aside, I moved my hands to her waist for support as I closed my lips over her navel. She squirmed slightly at the sensation as I suckled, tonguing the depression thoroughly to lick up the last of the spirit. Her breasts moved at the top of my vision with what seemed like deeper breathing, though she seemed relaxed when I finished suckling. Then I stretched out my tongue and ran it up and around her belly, picking up the salt, before moving back down to her navel, sucking the skin around it before drawing back.
Lowering my body, I stretched my face upwards, closed my mouth over the lime and lifted it from her. I released my hold on her waist, her stomach taking my weight, and took the lime from my lips, squeezing it under her chin with the fingers of my right hand so that the juice collected on her upper neck. Closing my lips around the area, I sucked lightly, pressing my tongue against the area in a sensuous kiss, then ran my lips down to the hollow at the base of her throat, kissing it again.
Her eyes shone as I lifted myself to stand, then took my seat on the bed. "Did you like that?"
"Yeah, it was..." her cheeks colored again. "It was kinda hot, actually."
"Your turn." I unzipped my jacket all the way. She glanced at me nervously as I took a lime slice and lay back, my jacket falling open beside me, revealing my smooth olive belly. I fit the lime between my teeth.
Faith looked away, then unrolled her dress and stood, letting the towel drop as the skirt fell into place. She poured herself a shot and followed my example, coating me with lime juice and grinding salt. Standing to my left, she tipped the shot glass into my navel.
"Ah! No! Don't move!" she cried. "I poured too much."
I laughed, making the tequila puddle worse. Faith ducked her head and tried to slurp up the extra. "Remember, you get to lick it up wherever it goes," I warned her.
She made an "ack" sound and chased the spreading drink, getting it under control before it had gotten beyond a couple of inches from my navel. Then she applied herself to her goal of drinking the rest of the shot, holding my waist. I have to say, she was good with her tongue, and she continued longer than absolutely necessary, leaving me with a pleasant glow.
While she licked up the salt, which also felt good, I took the lime from between my lips, and wedged it into the center of my cleavage. When she finished gathering salt, she moved her face to mine, gave me a confused look and then a glare as she saw what I'd done with the lime.
I thought she'd balk, but she rose to the challenge, moving her left hand to my rib cage for support as she lowered her lips, working the lime out with her tongue, then sucking it, her lips still pressed to the edge of my breasts.
I chuckled as she sat down beside me. "Nice work."
She gave me a shy grin. "Thanks. Again?"
"You're not too buzzed?" I asked. "That was a bigger shot."
"It's giving me a nice warm feeling," she responded, "but I can take more yet."
Nodding, I prepared the next shot. I picked up her towel from the floor and handed it to her. She wrapped it around her waist, lifted her dress and lay back, not bothering to ask me to turn away.
Taking two lime slices, I handed her one, then used the other liberally, drawing it over her belly and to her ribs, taking a second slice to finish the work, circling it a couple of inches below her navel.
Tilting the shot glass, I poured only about half into the dip in her creamy skin. Then I circled my tongue rapidly before lowering my lips and sucking. I lapped at the last of the tequila. Her breasts were definitely rising and falling further than they had been as I gripped her waist and began to lick and kiss the skin of her upper belly, taking up the salt, occasionally drawing my teeth against the edge of her belly.
I heard her make a quiet, contented sigh when I finished. But I didn't stop, I tipped most of the other half of the shot into her navel. "I thought you were done," she murmured, not sounding disappointed.
"It was a slightly bigger shot, so I split it up," I explained.
As I kissed her navel, I took a piece of ice, dropping it in the center of her belly. She made a small squeak. "That's cold!" she said, her body wriggling beneath my lips. "Unfair!"
"Any way to make your partner squirm is fair," I countered. "Unless you want me to stop?"
I felt her shrug. "No, it was just unexpected." I closed my lips on the ice and dragged it around her belly. "I like how it feels."
"Mm goo," I muttered around the melting ice as I felt her belly twitch beneath me.
The ice was shrinking, so I dropped it into her navel, swirled it around, making her wriggle, then swallowed it.
Taking the shot glass, I poured the last few drops, lowered my lips, and slurped, lapping it up. Even without the ice I could feel a slight tremble beneath me.
Holding her hips to support myself, I licked the salt below her navel. The further down I moved, the more pronounced her small shivers. Reaching the edge of the towel, I pressed my lips into her flesh and suckled, my chin pressed lightly to the towel, feeling the return pressure of her body beneath it.
Faith's breathing slowed as I drew back, and I stretched out against her as I had before, lifting the lime slice from her unresisting lips. This time I took it in my fingers and spread it lightly on her lips. Her eyes grew wide as I ran my tongue over her lips, slowly, tasting the lime and hearing her nervous breathing. I pressed my closed lips to the edges of her mouth and she shivered.
Lifting myself, I eased away from her and sat on the bed. She lay there for a few moments; I'm guessing she was getting her reaction under control. She licked her lips before sitting, her cheeks still glowing.
"Right," I heard her mutter, barely audibly. She stood, smoothing down the hem of her dress as the towel fell. She seemed a little unsteady as she picked up the bottle, but her expression was determined. "Does all the tequila have to be in your belly button?"
"No?" I replied, curious.
"Alright." She nodded, then made a peremptory motion for me to lie back. I did, hiding my grin. She tossed a lime slice at me, and I tried to catch it in my teeth, but failed badly, so I picked it up and set it between my lips as she poured herself a larger shot than we'd been taking.
She began with my navel, without doing anything with salt at first. The nightstand was just beside me, and she set the glass down, gripping my waist and digging her tongue firmly into my belly button, slurping and sucking aggressively. I made a pleased "mmm," sound to let her know I appreciated the effort.
When she was thoroughly done french kissing my navel, she took the glass and poured a thin trickle of tequila in a line from there to just below my breasts, following up with her tongue as she poured. After she'd completed the journey she set the glass down, sprinkled me with salt and proceeded to vacuum it up with as much enthusiasm as she'd displayed tonguing my navel. I didn't need to force an approving smile.
After using up about two thirds of her shot she stood and handed me the shot glass. Standing before me, legs either side of mine, she lowered herself onto me as I'd done onto her, then took the shot glass back. Carefully she dribbled the tequila onto my neck and throat, lapping and sucking it all up. The last few drops she used to wet the middle finger of her right hand and coat the sensitive skin under my chin. She ground salt in the center of my neck and rubbed it around. When she started to lick off the salt, I stole her right hand and sucked her finger, tasting salt and a slight tequila flavor. She widened her eyes at that, then grinned, moistening her lips when I rubbed the soft tip of her finger with my tongue. I kept sucking her finger for a while, her eyes and deep breathing showing me she was enjoying the sensation. She drew her hand back reluctantly when I released it.
"You still have the slice in your mouth," she said, sounding almost accusing.
I chuckled. "Oh, you want me to move it back to where I hid it?"
She lifted herself higher on me and shook her head, closing her lips around the slice and dragging it away from me after a brief struggle. Then she squeezed it against my collarbone and drew it down to the edge of my breasts. Her tongue traced patterns downwards, quite deliberately brushing the upper edge of each breast. I lifted my hips slightly, just enough for her to feel the pressure of my body against her.
Faith moved her lips and tongue from her left to right, playing with the edge of my breasts. Moving slightly down she tongued them just very slightly away from the edge. I couldn't see her eyes, but I think they were studying the ripples she was making. I moved my hands down to her side, resting them lightly against her, as her tongue pressed slightly into my cleavage. She planted a small kiss there, then looked up, hair a little dishevelled and eyes bright.
"Thank you for distracting me," she said.
Lightly gripping her just below her ribs I drew her higher. She toppled off the support of her elbows and collapsed onto me. "Anytime," I breathed, straight into her ear, rewarded with a shiver. She didn't show any imminent sign of getting up, so I kissed her neck.
"I mean it," she said. "This has been good for me. It's kept me from thinking about..." she shivered again, but not with pleasure.
I nodded, staying silent. She lay still. "I told you this wasn't the first time, right?"
Drawing my tongue around the base of her neck, I nodded once, but remained silent.
"There's been... more than one. Not just strippers." She gave a short laugh. "I could take that, if it was all there was. Other women. Some he doesn't know I know about. He promised he'd stop, and this weekend was my last try... last try to see if I even cared, I guess."
I nipped her earlobe lightly and held her to me. She didn't respond at all. After a moment, I murmured, "You seem very young for all of this to have happened. You can't be any older than me." Actually, I guessed two to four years older, but close enough.
I felt her nod against me. "We've only been married a couple of years. Right after college. You'd think he could at least have managed six months? A year? I should have left. I knew this wasn't going to work." She was silent for a moment. "I think I need more tequila."
"Mmm," I murmured, my lips by her ear. "Maybe what you need is a little payback."
She shifted slightly against me. "What do you mean?"
"Does he get jealous?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Which only adds insult to injury, right?"
"How'd he feel if you got a lap dance?"
"Oh... hmm." She thought for a moment. "He'd hate it. Do you have a place in mind?"
I shook my head. "Here. Now. I'll distract you with a dance, and maybe work some more tequila into it."
She rolled partially off me, to turn her face to look at mine, examining me through dark hair that had fallen over her eyes. "Oh? How is that supposed to work if I'm straight?"
I chuckled, holding her firmly and wriggling against her. "No one who thinks belly shots with another girl are 'kinda hot' is one hundred percent straight. Think of it as doubling down on the distraction." I rolled her further off me and slid out from under her. "And... think of it this way." I cupped my breasts, then drew my fingers over the front of my bra. "Your husband would definitely want me to give him a lap dance, right?"
Faith nodded.
"But he doesn't get me." I winked at her. "You do."
Her eyes wanted me to dance, even if her mind hadn't caught up to the concept. "Okay," she said, slowly. "Why not?"
Controlling my own slightly labored breathing, I lifted myself from the bed and zipped my jacket up higher than before. Faith lay where I'd left her, watching me. "That last shot left me nicely warm," she murmured. "It must be good tequila." Then she rolled onto her back and pushed herself into a sitting position.
I looked around the room. It might be a.higher bracket room than average, but the furniture was standard, a sturdy armless wooden chair at the desk, which would be ideal. I turned it to face the room, then indicated to Faith that she should sit there. She complied with a small shrug.
Taking my phone, I found a different playlist. Still sexy, but danceable. I turned the volume up some. The speakers were good enough that I could probably disturb neighboring rooms before they began to sound rough, but I kept it well below that point. Then I tossed the phone into my purse and began to dance to Eurythmics' "Love is a Stranger."
Facing Faith, I swayed my hips as I ran my fingertips over the front of my jacket. Then I rested my hands on my hips as I moved, and stepped around in a circle, giving my butt a slightly more pronounced shake towards her as I faced away, before continuing the turn.
I tugged on the zipper of my jacket, but didn't move it, watching the girl's eyes alternating between my face and the open V at my collarbone. I stepped lightly over to her, standing before her knees. Leaning forward I ran my fingers over the front of the jacket, still moving my hips to the beat. "Wanna help?" I asked softly.
She made another of her small shrugs and lifted her right hand to the zipper. She pulled at it, then took the open zipper above in her left hand and unzipped. As she lowered it, I gripped the center of my jacket and pulled it open, making her work awkward, and exposing my low bra, distracting her as she kept unzipping.
When the zip was almost fully undone I drew back, then swayed as I opened the zip and slipped the jacket lapels back, wriggling so that it slid down my arms, catching it as it fell. I twirled it and tossed it onto the foot of the bed.
"Have you done this before?" she asked, sounding more gruff than it had.
"Maybe..." I grinned, running my fingers over the front of my bra.
"How often?"
"Oh, a couple times," I offered, running my hands over my waist as I snaked side to side. I gave a turn, then slid my left leg forward, letting the skirt break over it to the lacy top of my stockings. I ran my fingertips down my thigh, then eased the zipper higher.
Faith said something, but her voice broke and I didn't catch it.
"What was that?"
She cleared her throat. "Guys or girls?"
"Mmhmm," I agreed, opening the zip to my hips.
I spun around. The skirt didn't precisely flare, as narrow and heavy as it was, but it did lift to the side, wrapping around me when I stopped before falling into place. I unfastened its catch, opened the zip, and snapped it to the side with a flourish before tossing it to the bed.
Faith blinked as I stepped side to side to Aaliyah's "Are You That Somebody," my hips rocking. Her eyes took in the fine black stockings with the lacy tops, my black panties, and black high medium heel calf boots. As I watched her she absently ran the back of her fingers across her forehead.
Turning away from her, I bent down low, lifting my buttocks as I unzipped the boots. Then I turned back and moved forwards, taking the back of the chair in both hands, one on either side of her head. I shook my hips like a belly dancer, then moved my feet either side of her knees and lowered myself to her thighs, sliding forward so my belly almost touched hers, my breasts just below her chin. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as I worked my body sinuously, forward and back this time, a wave beginning at my knees, through my hips and breasts to shoulders. My face angled forward and back, though I kept my eyes fixed on hers.
Then I backed away from her, turned, and slid back onto her thighs buttocks first, leaning back against her as I pressed myself back into her belly, my full weight on her. When I was securely sitting in her lap, I lifted each leg in turn to slide my boots off, tossing them to the floor at the foot of the bed.
Now clad only in stockings, panties and bra, I leaned back against her again, tilting my head back so that my left cheek brushed her right, my breasts lifting high in their confinement. Reaching behind me, I squeezed her hips, then moved forward and stood, turning to face her.
I danced close to her for a time, running my fingers over my body, around my inner thigh, over my hips and waist, sliding over my bra and lightly squeezing my breasts. Faith's cheeks glowed, but her smile was amused, as though she was enjoying the performance of me acting as a dancer rather than the dance itself. That was fine. The flushed cheeks testified to the effect of the dance.
Moving close and leaning forward, I gripped the top of her chair, setting my feet in line with the back of the chair. I extended my right foot, moving my knee to the side so that I could caress her waist with my toes, then curled my leg around behind the chair, drawing my hips against her as I moved. Lowering my foot back to the floor, I bent my knees until I was lightly sitting on her thighs, and rocked my hips, sliding towards her and back, my chest dipping and rising with my movements.
Then I moved away and began to roll my stockings down from my thighs. I turned away again, bending over further than necessary to roll them over my knees, then all the way forward as I took them off. Straightening and turning back, I moved up beside her. I leaned forwards, pumping my elbows to the music, my chest gyrating, then reached up my left hand and popped my right bra strap off over my shoulder.
Faith's eyes turned wide, and she glanced down at my chest, but the bra was still fairly secure. I lifted the strap back into place, and did the same with the left, marking how her eyes followed the loosened cup. Then I straddled her thighs again, and lowered myself into them, my hips in constant motion.
I slipped off the right bra strap again, then eased it forward, over my elbow. Wriggling carefully, I drew my arm out without dislodging the bra. She looked up at me, pupils dark. It was one thing to slip a strap, but taking it all the way over my arm wasn't something I was likely to undo. Her look grew even more uncomfortable as I carefully pulled the second strap down my left arm, so that only the catch behind was holding the bra in place.
When I reached behind me, Faith made a "glurk" sound. I leaned close to her. "Problem?" I asked in a murmur. "It shouldn't be, for a straight girl like you." After a moment, I added, "Should I stop?"
She shook her head no, but said "Yes?" Then "No? Maybe?" then shrugged, helplessly.
I'd been right about how she was considering my dance. She thought I was pretending to give her a lap dance, and she was having fun with the concept. She was aroused, and liked being aroused, but it was lighthearted, not challenging. Not real.
Taking my bra off, especially bouncing in her lap, my breasts six inches from her face, suddenly made it very real. And something she seemed to want, and seemed shocked that she did. I don't think she'd have denied to herself that she was attracted to me, but I doubt she'd seen it as desire. Now, suddenly, she was starting to recognize what she was feeling.
"Tell you what," I whispered, reaching down for her hands and drawing them towards my chest. "It's okay," I murmured. "Stay with me a moment."
Parting the thumb and fingers of her left hand, I placed them on the outside of the right cup of my bra, then did the same with her right hand, so she could hold it in place with fair control. "Now you're in control."
She gave me a look that was almost a glare, though there was almost no color in her eyes, the pupils had dilated so far. I resumed my dance, writhing in her lap. I moved my hands behind me, unsnapped my bra, and let the straps dangle as Faith held the cups in place, my breasts rippling as her fingers tried to follow my movements.
"Of course," I added, "it's going to mean I'll have to stay on your lap," I said with a grin. "I'm fine with that."
"I'm sure you are," she grated.
I slid a few inches back along her thighs to lift the hem of her dress, exposing enough of her upper thigh that I could slide forwards and wriggle against her without having to sit on the fabric. Her grip adjusted as I moved, pressing into my breasts in an attempt to keep the bra in place.
Roxy Music's "Love is the Drug" was playing as I slid my belly against hers, leaning back far enough that her hands weren't trapped between us. Resting my wrists on her shoulders I watched her flushed face, lips parted in an "O". "Are you having fun yet?" I asked.
She blinked, then frowned, giving the question some thought. "Yeah, actually," she said, her voice low. "I am."
"Good," I replied. "Let me know when you think it's time for more shots."
"Oh, uh." She looked at her hands, then back to my face. "How? The bottle's over there." She nodded towards the nightstand.
"We can move," I suggested. "Carefully."
"O..kay," she said, uncertainly.
I moved backwards, smoothly enough that her hands tracked my movements. "Now stand."
I stood with her, then moved my hands to her hips, slipping under her dress and lifting it out of the way. Using my hold, I guided her to the bed and sat her down, standing close, straddling her knees. "My turn?" I asked, and she nodded.
I poured myself a shot, took a small sip, then took a lime slice and rubbed it on her neck before lowering my face to kiss it, my lips and tongue making her shiver, her grip tightening on the bra. I felt her breath on my shoulder as I leaned forward to work, barely moving to the beat as I focused on her neck.
"No salt?" she whispered as I took another sip. "I'll get to it," I said, repeating the process on the other side.
Then I picked up the salt and ground some into my palm. I took the shot, swallowed the rest, then said, "Stick out your tongue."
After a moment's hesitation, she did. I pinched my fingers in the salt, taking as much as I could, which wasn't very much, and dropped it onto the tip of her tongue. She frowned at the taste, but didn't have time to do anything else before I'd closed my lips around her tongue and started sucking.
Faith groaned, her tongue perfectly still against mine. I rubbed my tongue against it, feeling her rapid breath against my cheek. I stroked her tongue with mine again and felt it move in response.
Moving closer, I parted my lips and closed them further back on her tongue. She shuddered, and I parted my lips again, this time pressing them to hers.
Faith groaned again as she yielded to my kiss, her lips and tongue moving in earnest. I could sense her passion growing with mine as we tried to devour each other. Her fingers tightened, squeezing my breasts with the rhythm formed by our mouths. My hands being free, I ran them over her shoulders, then down her back. As I caressed her arms I hooked my fingers around the ends of my loose bra straps, draping them over her shoulders. As close as I was pressed against her, I had a couple of inches of strap spare as I fastened the catch behind her neck.
As intense as it was, the kiss had only lasted a few seconds, and we broke by mutual accord. Faith was panting softly, and my own breathing was a little unsteady.
Faith's fingers went rigid against my bra, likely as she realized she'd been squeezing. I leaned back, and they followed my movement, relaxing. Then I leaned back further, and her hands stopped moving as the straps fastened behind her neck went tight. I backed away, my breasts quivering free.
"Good choice," I said.
Faith glared at me in chagrin, then lifted the bra over her head and tossed it onto my other clothes as I danced again, hands pushing my hair back over my shoulders as I shimmied like a belly dancer.
Turning to face away from her, I backed into her lap, sliding my butt over her thighs, reaching down to hold the edge of the bed as I leaned back against her, snaking my body against hers.
"Ready for your turn?" I asked. When she nodded I poured her a shot. "More," she suggested, her voice hoarse. I added a little more, then faced her, bending down and holding the glass to her lips, forcing her to sip only a little.
She frowned. "You'll get the rest," I said, then picked up a lime slice.
"Oh, no. No," she said, as I rubbed the lime on my left nipple. I offered it to her anyway, hearing her mutter, "Oh, jeez..." as she began to suck.
"Ooh, yeah, baby," I breathed as she worked her tongue against my nipple. Her eyes turned up towards mine as I coated my right breast with lime juice. She seemed willing enough to switch. "Ooh yeah, that's good," I said.
She took another sip as I held the glass to her lips. Then I took her right hand, ground salt into it, and guided it to my left breast. "Rub it in well," I instructed. She did, then began to lick off the salt as I sprinkled more on her left hand. A moment later, she was squeezing my right breast as she suckled the left.
"Be sure to get every last bit of salt," I directed her, and she did, her enthusiasm growing as my nipples hardened to her efforts. I saw her glance at them a couple of times.
"Do I get the rest of my drink now?" she asked plaintively as she drew back from my swelling nipples.
I nodded, taking the glass and pouring half of the contents into my mouth.
"Hey, that was mppph!" Faith began to complain, until I pressed my lips against hers and gave her the tequila between her lips. She gurgled, then swallowed, then kissed me hungrily. I leaned into her as she did, returning her passion with my own.
Backing away reluctantly, I took the rest of the spirit into my mouth and pressed my lips to hers again. Faith took it from me, gulping it down, but not disconnecting even when there was no possibility that there was more tequila remaining.
When I broke the kiss again my own voice was a little hoarse. "I think I swallowed some of your share," I said. "Should I give you some more to pay it back?"
Faith grinned, almost shyly, and nodded. I poured a large shot, took it all between my lips at once, then met Faith's with mine, and we shared the drink and the passion. Faith moaned as we broke and reconnected, every meeting of our lips bringing forth more desire than the last.
She slipped her hands around my neck and I lowered mine to her hips, slipping them under her dress, then moving her further back onto the bed. I leaned forwards, pressing her back. She sank down willingly, and I lifted the dress above her lower back as I moved forwards, my left leg between hers, then followed her down to lie atop her, our mouths connecting and writing together, my bare breasts squeezed against her dress.
My thigh pressed to her panties, I rocked as we kissed, Faith moaning into my mouth. My hands explored her waist, then the gap in her dress, fingertips lightly brushing the edge of her breasts. I drew back panting, but still rocking my hips, lifting myself so that she could see my breasts hanging above her, then ran my palms over her shoulders, down her dress, over her breasts back down to her hips, lowering myself to kiss her again as I drew her against the motion of my thigh between her legs.
Her hands caressed my arms as I released her lips again, kissing her neck, not holding back. I made her shiver as I drew my tongue and teeth along her collarbone and upper chest. I moved my right hand to the left strap of her dress, lifting it over her shoulder and slowly drawing it down as my lips followed the lowering edge, kissing her in a line down to the curve of her breast, then down over the yielding flesh, and finally closing on her exposed nipple.
Faith cried out, her body twisting beneath mine as her arousal hit a new level. Her hips rose against my leg, and I kept moving as I suckled. A moment later I felt her fingers twine into my hair, and I knew she was mine for the taking.
The thought excited me, and I moved to my left, pulling the right side of her dress down, and suckled her right breast. Faith's moans were faint but constant. She wasn't moving against me, but she was keeping her body pressed to mine, so my moving against her inflamed her passion.
I drew her up off the bed, lifting the hem of her dress, my hands moving her arms up without resistance as I pulled the dress over her head, freeing her firm breasts, her nipples already taut from my attention. Then I pushed her back down to the bed, my lips locked on hers, devouring her as I lifted her hips against me, mine rocking powerfully against her.
Faith panted into the kiss. I moved my hands from her hips up her waist, grasping her breasts and squeezing and kneading them hard. Now I felt her hips move, her motion reinforcing mine. I broke the kiss and moved back to her left breast as her soft cries became more insistent. I sucked hard on her nipple and her breath caught. She muttered, "Oh, god," and her hips rose from the bed.
Moving backwards, I planted a line of kisses down from her breasts over her navel, stopping just above her panties. She rocked her thighs, pressing her pussy against my chin. She needed more, but I wasn't giving it to her, and her moans had a frustrated edge. I kissed and suckled a couple of inches above her sex, and it was driving her crazy, especially when I squeezed her butt, pressing her belly to me.
Pushing her legs together for a moment, I pulled off her panties, then moved my lips back to her lower belly as she moaned.
Then I gave her what she wanted, sliding my tongue down and over her pussy. She wriggled on the bed, gasping, and I slowly licked her clit. That made her cry out and pant rapidly as she tried to push herself over the edge, but I held back, and she whimpered with need.
Slipping two fingers of my left hand inside her, I rubbed the wall of her sex, and her hips bucked rapidly, trying to grind against my face. I kept up the torment, though, and she muttered a string of "Oh god"s again.
I lapped gently at her clit, driving her back into desperate writhing, but this time when her hips lifted I reached up with my right hand to pinch her left nipple, then pressed my tongue hard against her clit and bobbed my head until her back arched and her thighs went rigid. I felt the power of her climax against my tongue, and kept lapping as she gasped, her body convulsing with each slow lift of her hips.
When I couldn't draw Faith's orgasm out a moment longer, I lifted her all the way back onto the bed, then slipped off my panties and climbed onto her. She looked up at me with unfocused eyes, and her smile held lust and affection, sated for now, but eager for more. I kissed her, and she responded with muted desire, not at all daunted by her own taste on my tongue.
"I like belly shots," she breathed. "Does this always happen?"
"If I were to tell you this was the first time," I replied, softly, then paused. "... I'd be lying through my teeth." I chuckled, and Faith grinned. "I'm not going to lie to you," I said. "I like sex, with girls or guys, but making a beautiful girl come is the best feeling in the world."
She flushed more deeply at that than I'd seen even when I'd embarrassed her. "Can I make you come too?" she asked.
"Babe, that's the best feeling in the world, too." She chuckled until I covered her lips with mine and began to rock.
"Oh god, I thought I was done," she breathed, a few minutes later.
I chuckled, arousal making my voice rough. "You must not have spent much time in bed with a girl," I said.
"Never," she admitted. "There were a few guys before my.. husband." There was an edge to her voice still when she mentioned him. "Oh!" I had lowered my face to her left nipple and was lapping at it. She began to pant. "I'm definitely not done," she said.
I chuckled and rolled us over, so she lay on top, then wriggled my leg between hers, her thigh pressed to my pussy. Taking her hips in my hands, I moved her against me, rocking my hips as she did the same, and soon we were both moaning as pleasure approached. I tried to hold back to come with her, but I'd been turned on for so long that when my climax arrived it didn't brook any delay, and I cried out in passion as it took me.
It seems that Faith must have been closer than I thought, because my excitement pushed her over the edge, and we came together anyway, holding onto each other, kissing passionately as both our bodies still shuddered, and groaning in satisfied joy when our tremors faded.
"I want to kiss you," Faith said.
"What have we been doing for the past twenty minutes?" I chuckled.
She shook her head. "No. Down... down there."
I gave her a languorous kiss that left both of us breathless. "Babe, there is nothing I'd like more than to have you go down on me," I said, honestly.
So she did, and it was good. After she balked a little at starting, she began to lick slowly, building my arousal, playing with her fingers inside and out, bringing me inexorably towards orgasm.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this," I gasped out, when I was so close I could have almost thought myself over the edge, "but stop."
"Why?" she asked, drawing her tongue over my clit before looking up at me.
I shivered and forced myself to relax. "Tease your partner," I said. "The longer you can keep them wanting more, the more you both get."
"Like you did," she complained, running her tongue over my clit again. I gasped. "Mean."
She did, though. In fact I think she'd have held me back for longer, if I wasn't so aroused by that point that she couldn't postpone the inevitable, and when she realized she'd lost control, she bore down on my clit and drove me into a glorious explosion.
"I'm going to leave him," Faith announced. We were wrapped in each others' arms, not sure if we were heading for sleep or resting before the next erotic adventure.
"Because of... this?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I've been considering it for months," she said. "'This' only helped me to deal with the hostility." She grinned at me. "I know you only wanted my body. I knew that from the start, but you were right."
"I wanted your body from the moment I saw you," I admitted, "but I hope I didn't mislead you."
She shook her head. "I don't think so. If you had I'd have walked." She sounded shy as she continued, "I really didn't want to end up in bed with you," she said, "but I had a feeling I was going to. It scared me, and excited me. When you suggested the lap dance, I was like a deer in the headlights. I couldn't look away. But I had to know."
"Had to know what?" I asked.
"Had to know if I'd be able to hold out. And then I did want you to bed me, and I think maybe I wanted it all along." She casually flicked a nipple. I shivered. "Anyway, I'm going to leave him, but I'm not sure I'm going to want another guy. At least for a while. There are more options open to me than there were."
I laughed. "Don't tell me I turned you gay. That would be such a cliché."
She shook her head. "I don't know what I am. I just don't want to be tied down." She gave me a shy look. "Can you teach me?" I raised my eyebrows. "What to do if I'm with a girl?" She flicked my nipple again.
"You're getting me turned on again," I replied, with a chuckle. "Seems to me you've figured out some of what to do. I can show you more, though."
I moved back far enough to slip my hand in between us and began to caress her sex. "Mmmmhhh..." she breathed.
"And if you want, come over to my place one day and I'll show you some of the things I don't carry in my case."
"You're scaring me again," she laughed. "Deer in the headlights..." She lowered her head to my breast, and my enthusiastic response was genuine.
Faith did leave her husband. She moved into an apartment. She had a fair bit of property from her short marriage that was in her name, and after the usual acrimony, she and her husband came to a settlement, and the divorce should be through soon.
We see each other occasionally, at her apartment or mine, or we go out together. Not on a date; she wants to be well clear of her marriage before she calls anything a date, but we usually end up in bed. Sometimes we do belly shots first.
She's seen other people for non-dates, too, and I'm good with that. And she's okay with me living the life I've led since high school. We both have a feeling, though, that sooner or later we might start dating. "I'm not sure I even want that," she said to me, "but I kinda think it's going to happen. And if history's any guide, when it does, I'll have wanted it all along."
I think that's a strange way to look at things, but I'm sure we'll figure it out. As I said to Enrique, I'll have faith.