Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,56

your dancer.” She was only gone a minute before she came back with a woman wearing a blindfold.

It was my woman in a blindfold.

My woman wearing some kind of lingerie and a blindfold.

Fucking fuck of all fucks. She. Was. Hot.

Sabrina the stripper sergeant raised one finger over her mouth to tell me to be quiet.

“Where are we going?” Blake asked. Her head tilted up in question not being able to tell where she was. “Is this the dressing room?”

“Take your time, Miss Bride-to-be. Remember what I taught you.” She walked Blake just inside and then left, closing the door with a click.

Now that was more like it. Blake didn’t know if she was alone or not. She turned her head toward the sound of the door latching behind her. The music got gradually louder.

“Hello?” she asked into the dim room. Then she removed the blindfold, blinking her sight back into focus. When she saw me her hand covered her laugh. She’d had a few drinks. Quite a few if she got into that get up without a fight. Then again, Sabrina didn’t look like she took much shit. However, that woman said something which had my attention.

What had she taught her?

“Are you tied up?” Blake asked, seeing my hands behind my back.

“I was tricked,” I confessed.

“Oh, you were?” she said skeptically, but the humor in her eyes gave me relief. Her being there in general relieved me, but knowing she was having fun—just by her expression—made all of my earlier protesting hilarious. “Were you expecting a professional?”

“I didn’t know what to expect. I lost a bet.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I think they set us up.”

“I think you’re right.”

Set up or not, there we were. My fiancée was half-naked and I was tied to a chair.

After the shock started to wear off, I asked what was really on my mind. “What did she show you, Blake?”

Blake faked Sabrina’s accent and said, “How to seduce my loverrrr.”

“Well, I’m right here. Seduce away.”

I didn’t know whether to hate the dudes I came with or if I owed them anything they wanted. Looking at the situation, I’d say I owed them. Big time.

She swayed a little, either from the drinks she’d had or she was just finding her rhythm. Her hips rocked side to side. I quickly learned it was both. As she began to walk around the pole, letting it hold her weight as she twirled, I watched her chest jump.

My pole dancer had hiccups.

Sexiest fucking hiccups I’d ever seen.

The bass thumped and she kept time like she actually knew what she was doing. Her posture was straight as an arrow and her legs spread wide, as she slid almost all the way to the floor. Seductively, she surveyed me studying her. As I watched, she bloomed into a full-on sex goddess before my very eyes. Dipping a finger in her mouth, then slowly running it down the center of her chest, all the way to her barely hidden pussy. She clearly liked my reaction—shifting in my seat—because she repeated the act until she had both hands on her center. I almost came unglued when she rubbed herself through the black fabric as she stood confidently before me. Then she turned and grabbed the pole with one hand, bending at the hip as she shoved her ass close to my face.

I licked my lips. I wanted untied. I needed untied.

Her hand lingered on the spot I craved more than ever, then slid back, and she tapped her pussy in front of my face. Her ass hypnotically moved back and forth in front of me. When she turned back around and we were face to face, with one little finger she pushed me back in my seat. Then she hopped up on the pole and I’ll be damned if she didn’t spin on the son of a bitch. I was wrong. There was plenty of room for a naughty twirl.

I’ve had hard-ons before. Lots of them. I’ve never had one like that. It was uncomfortable. It was persistent and about to break through my pants—Hulk style. It was getting angry for being so neglected.

“Honeybee,” I pleaded. “Untie me.”

The tease pretended to think about it.

Showing mercy, she straddled me. That was better.

“I’m not sure you want to be untied. Feels like you’re enjoying yourself.” Her sweet breath was like a narcotic to my senses.

Our mouths crashed into each other. Her tongue led mine in a seductive dance, rivaling the show I’d witnessed. My girl had skills.