I squealed when I opened my mailbox the other day. That’s right. Squealed. I saw a padded envelope suspiciously shaped like a DVD, and I immediately knew what it was – my new stripper work out DVD.
And I’m not going to lie – I pretty much stripped before I even popped it in the DVD player. I was ready to sweat and…more importantly…ready to learn some sexy new moves.
Well…I was ready to sweat…but not prepared to sweat as much as I did. We shook our hips. We shimmied our breasts. For an hour, I didn’t stop moving. I was shiny and hot and felt great. A good work out always makes me feel better about my body.
And then he came over, walking into my living room as I was mid-shimmy. My master froze, watched for a few seconds, and then broke out into a huge smile. He sat down on my couch, and I instinctively stopped and walked over to him.
“No, no,” he said, shooing me away with a smirk. “Finish your work out baby.”
The DVD was almost at the end, so most of what he saw was me putting the entire routine together. I’m a fast learner when it comes to hip-hop style dance (basically what this stripper video was), so, with eyes locked on his and sweat dripping down my face, I finished the last run through. I squatted, opening my legs in time to the music. I pumped the floor from a push-up position. I thrusted toward him and, on the last few moves, stripped off my sports bra.
The DVD ended, and I slinkily crawled to him, panting.
“Did you enjoy your work out, baby?’
“Yes,” I panted, wearing nothing but tight short shorts. “It makes me want to fuck.”
“Mmmm good girl.”
“I need to get a shower.”
“Not before you fuck your dripping cunt for me. Not until you cum.” He pushed me to my back on the floor and peeled my shorts off of me, throwing them aside. “Fuck that pussy for me.” He sank back into his seat.
Eyes on him from my back on the floor, I growled and began to rub my clit, faster and harder than I usually do to start. I knew daddy wasn’t going to make me hold back or wait. I was a caged beast and I wanted to fuck. I let out a low growl again.
“Faster,” he demanded. “Use your fingers to fuck that cunt.”
I obeyed, my pussy sopping, my heart beating out of my chest. He leaned forward and forced my legs open farther, taking a foot in each hand. My thighs, already weak from exercising, burned. It burned like heaven.
“Cum,” he demanded, and before the word fully left his lips, I was obeying, orgasming intensely, wetly.
He pulled me to my feet and smacked my ass, lingering to grab a full handful, “Good girrrrrl,” he growled.
I had to admit that I just sat in the shower and let cold water run over me for…oh…a good 45 minutes. When I got out, he was gone, leaving just a note.
I love you, baby. Must run, we’ll talk later tonight.
Work outs are intense when he shows up. Next time, I hope I’m even better at the stripper moves. I love making him proud.
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About Rori
Rori is the founder of Between My Sheets. She works full time as a writer, reviewer, and online educator and can be reached at rori-at-betweenmysheets.com
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