Page 46 of Tommy
No, this is better. Safely away from her, I can pretend it’s someone else. Anyone else, really. Her face isn’t what the camera is focused on. It’s on her body, which she shimmies closer to the client as he sits in a chair. She straddles it and rubs herself all over him till she flips around and sits on his lap, rotating her hips and moving her arms around, grabbing and touching both her and him as he shakes behind her.
Once I get over who it is, the way her body moves is enchanting. I’d never admit it to her face, but I understandnow why she’s one of the highest paid strippers at the club. There’s even a flutter in my stomach as I watch her. It’s as if she’s having sex, but I can clearly see she still has clothes on.
For now.
I’m not sure what happens first: me moving closer to the screen or Tommy grabbing my hand and pulling me to him. I fall gracelessly onto his lap as I’m knocked off-balance.
His firm hands clamp down on my hips, forcing me to be still against him.
“Do you see what she’s doing?”
I turn my head to look at him but see his eyes are on the screen. Looking back, I swallow my unease at watching Trixie and nod hesitantly.
But he keeps talking as if I didn’t move at all.
“Her hips move side to side.”
He lifts me effortlessly off him and sways me back and forth, holding me over his body as if I weigh nothing.
“When she tires of that, she moves in a circle. A slow one that teases,” he says in my ear as he continues to manipulate my body.
He isn’t whispering, but his breath is on my neck. No need to speak loudly, as there’s no one in here but us. No sound penetrating the barrier between us and the outside world.
Till he breaks that.
Taking one hand off me, he rests me back on his lap before moving his hand to the mouse, clicking away till music fills the room. Sultry music. Music with more beat, bumping in slow rhythms that make you want to keep time too.
His hands move back, not to me, but away from the computer and mouse. He places them on the arms of the chair as he just waits.
For me.
To do something other than gape at the people on the screen. To find the courage to let some of my stiffness go. At least a little. In a room where no one can see me. Where I’m alone.
With him.
Only him.
Watching the video and feeling the music, I start to move. Slowly at first, just a sway of my shoulders, a nod of my head. Loosening my tightly wound body and letting the tension fall away as I try and relax into Tommy’s chair.
Then, slowly, slower than I’ve done anything in my life, I move my hips.
I plant both feet firmly on the ground to move off him a bit, to do as he showed me, but he spreads his legs wider, knocking my feet farther apart, and a hand lands on my hip, pushing me down.Keepingme down.
I still, turning my head just enough to see him out of the corner of my eye. He’s looking at me. I feel it more than I see it. His jaw is tight. His body is almost rigid behind me. But his grip on my hip holds true. With the bass pumping in the room almost in time with my heart, I move again.
He doesn’t tell me to stop, just lets me move on him. Side to side. Circular. Back and forth.
My lips part as I feel myself panting at my actions. He keeps clenching his jaw over and over again, the muscle jumping.
“Like that, baby?” Trixie’s voice draws my eye, and I realize we’re listening to the same music that’s playing in her private room. And being in here, but a part of them too? A flush covers my body as I hear the client moan.
I watch as she runs her hands over herself, then reaches back and touches him. Running her fingers through his hair and then down his arms, caressing them without stopping her hip movements.
I flex my fingers wide for a second before drawing them to my sides, where Tommy’s gripping the arms of the chair. I try to bring them up, but the angle is awkward. Instead, I wrap my fingers around his wrists, rubbing them as I continue to move, putting weight on them as I grind deeper into him. Not to lift myself off, but to push myself harder down on him.
The feel of him growing hard beneath me has my head rolling back and onto his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I let the music take over a part of me that’s never been touched by the sounds before. My hands leave his as I glide them over my skin. I feel feverish as I trace light fingers over my stomach and arms. My breasts.
Oh my.
