“Okay, wait a minute…” I shake my head as the thumping bass line of “Feenin’” enters the dance space. “What you know about Jodeci?” I chuckle. Ian may be aware of some things in black culture but I didn’t think one of the blackest groups of all time would be something he knew.
“A former lover listened to them a lot and it grew on me,” he casually shrugged as if this is just a regular occurrence and it’s not the biggest mind blowing thing I’ve heard all goddamn year. “Diary of a Mad Band is one of my favorite albums.”
“Enough about what I like and don’t,” Ian grabs a chair and sits in front of me. “You earned this studio, angel. Prove it to me it wasn’t a mistake.”
Oh, it’s like that? Boy, I’m about to shut you alllllllll the way up. And just like that, I already know what I’m going to do to blow Ian’s mind and make him bust a load in his pants. “Start the music over, Zaddy.”
Ian starts the music again and I lock eyes with him. I slowly gyrate to the hypnotic bass line and Devante Swing’s naughty whispers. I mouth along with him to Ian so he knows exactly what’s on my mind.
“All of the chronic in the world couldn’t mess with you,” I mouth and Ian sexily nods back. Oh, I have a feeling we’ll be doing a bit more than freakin’ by the time this song is over.
I slowly walk towards him and do a small move, placing my hands in front of my sex as I do a small move with my hips. I gyrate against the music, with my gyrations becoming more pronounced with each chord and beat until I make my way back up. My hands become lost in my hair while my hips voluntarily move on their own.
I slide my hands down my body and it’s already hot to the touch. I’ve done dances like these so much, they’re a dime a dozen. But performing for my man is on another level. There’s an intimacy, a connection between us that couldn’t be explained and we wouldn’t dare to.
Whenever we lock eyes with each other, it’s clear we’re the only ones in the universe. It doesn’t matter what’s going on outside, or what drama is happening. Our focus is only on each other and that’s it.
I turn around to dip low, bouncing my booty a couple of times and Ian quietly licks his lips. He adjusts his position in the chair and I can tell his erection is chafing against his slacks.
I do a roll over into the splits – Ian’s favorite move of mine – and slide my body across the floor, twisting it left and right as I move.
As I continue to dance, Ian stands up and removes his suspenders, followed by his shirt. His muscular chest is barely covered by his white undershirt and now it’s my turn to lick my lips. He unbuttons his slacks and his shaft creates a noticeable tent in his boxer briefs.
He calmly folds his clothing and sets them aside before he sits back down on the chair. He strokes himself through the fabric of his briefs and damn it, if that’s not the hottest thing right now.
“Take off your clothes,” he orders, “slowly.”
My man wants me to strip for him and I’m more than happy to. Memories of the first time I performed a similar dance for him come flooding back, even though it wasn’t that long ago. He wants us to christen this place – our place – and I’m anxious to.
I peel off my shirt and toss it aside. I cover one hand over my red lacy bra while I continue to dance for him. I feel my panties becoming soaked with want but I keep focused on him. I have a feeling my dance won’t last very long and I need to finish as much as I can.
I turn around and take a deep breath. I’m about to do a dance move not even Ian has seen and suddenly I feel self-conscious about it. I unbutton my shorts and pull them over my hips. I bend all the way over to pull them down while I jiggle my ass.
I know it sounds funny; Ian has already seen my ass and plenty of me, but it’s different this way. I’m performing for him, like if he’s a client and I’m showcasing myself. Of course, I would never do that with anyone else, but it’s a naughty game we’re playing and I’m a willing participant.
I turn around and lock eyes with Ian again, except this time, he has his cock out and is stroking himself. Now the want in my panties became an urgent need. I need to feel all of him inside of me and soon, or I might burst.
Ian slowly beckons his fingers and I try not to rush over. Instead, I drag one foot behind the other and stand in front of him. I steady myself on his shoulders as he softly kisses my tummy and grabs two fistfuls of my ass. “Turn around,” he orders and I oblige.
He moves my thong to the side and repositions himself, before pulling me onto his lap and sinking down on his cock. I whimper as he kisses my neck and squeezes my breasts. I’m feeling all of him and I’m still not accustomed to it. I doubt I ever will be.
“Watch us, angel.” He nibbles on my ear.
I open my eyes and see us together on the chair. Ian’s cock is buried deep within me and I can’t take my eyes off it, off us. As Ian guides me up and down, I watch in awe as Ian’s cock appears and disappears with each thrust.
I gasp and shriek; my breath stolen in some moments, while I’m fully panting in others. My sex is suckling and quivering around his thick length; hungry and greedy for all of it, and wanting more.
We made love slow at first, and then built up to an intense tempo, compounded by our love for each other and Jodeci in the background. Our lips repeatedly met, moaning into each other’s mouths. Our bodies fit together perfectly, coming together as one.
My breathing became shallow as the orgasm approached me. My skin was hot, my heart felt heavy, and my mind…my mind was in another place. I’d never experienced a love like this before and I struggle to think what my life was like before Ian.
Bad and Bougie (Feeling Some Type of Way II) will be out on Friday.