Saturday, April 12, 2008

His Private Dancer by Penelope Russell

Dina tapped her pencil with nervous energy on her desktop calendar, the dull thump echoing through her already aching head. Shifting in her chair, she uncrossed her legs and stood to stretch her five-six frame from the position she had maintained the last half hour while speaking on the phone with an irate client. Reaching for her glass of ice water, she was sorely tempted to throw it at the empty cubicle next to hers.

"Jerry Egan, I have half a mind to take this to the boss," she hissed under her breath.

Working at her father's large tax firm, Dina usually kept a low profile, not wanting to ruffle the feathers of the other hard working employees who might think any favors, promotions, or rewards came her way due to her relationship to the Branson Miles. But today, one of their larger and long time customers had discovered an ongoing error in their account, all due to the ill figured paperwork of Jerry. Now that account was in jeopardy, and Dina hoped she had handled the situation to their satisfaction by sending them directly to the vice president, Mitchell Bowens, her father's long time friend as well as business partner.

Just as she wiped a drop of water that had fallen from the condensation on her glass onto the rich, mahogany surface of her desk, the light on her phone flashed, alerting her to the fact that she was wanted in her father's office. Shrugging on a black, pinstripe blazer over her ivory, lace-trimmed cami, Dina hurried up the carpeted hallway to massive oak doors leading to the main offices of her father's partners. The secretary greeted her warmly from her desk.

"Yes, Dina?" Mary Hankins looked over her bifocals as she finished copying a message from a phone call.

"Mr. Miles paged me?" Dina was timorous.

The silver-haired lady nodded and smiled. Mary had been with her father's company as long as Dina could remember. Years of sneaking under Mary's desk and sitting at her feet as a toddler while the secretary passed her homemade oatmeal cookies, or sitting at the desk as a precocious ten-year-old, pretending to take phone calls, flashed through Dina's mind and she returned the smile in kind.

Mary motioned with her head. "Go on in. He and Mr. Bowens are waiting for you." Dina entered through the double doors without knocking.

"There's my Sugarplum." Miles used his favorite nickname for her when out of earshot of others. "Thank you for handling the Robston account efficiently. Miles here will be meeting with them Monday to straighten things out. Would you like something to drink?" Branson hugged her tightly and Dina felt the strength in his fifty-five-year-old arms, the same strength as the day she was born and all the years later that carried, tossed her in the air, and rocked her to sleep.

Dina brushed a few errant strands of blonde hair out of her eyes as she declined the offer. "What did you need to see me for, Daddy?"

"As you know, our firm is hosting a benefit auction for the Children's Regional Hospital."

"Yes?" Dina was well aware, having helped her father organize it for the last six months.

"Well, our hostess backed out at the last minute and we need someone familiar with what we've put together. You, logically, came to mind."

"But, Dad! I'm not good at getting up in front of an audience," she cried. "Why don't you do it?"

"Bah! Those rich men don't want to see an ugly old fart like me up there. And don't tell me you can't get up in front of an audience. How did you manage to dance all those years?"

"That was ballet, Daddy, something I liked to do. This is different!" Dina's mother, Teri, ran a dance studio in which Dina grew up. She could practically pliƩ before she could walk. A tear formed in Dina's eye and Branson was quick to soothe her with a kiss.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

Dina shook her head, her silky, long blonde hair swinging over her back with a soft caress. "That's all right, Daddy, it's been a long time and I have resigned myself to becoming your next partner." She attempted a smile for him, but knew he could see right through her with his deep blue eyes.

"Forever is never long enough for a dream to die, Sugarplum," he commented.

Dina was a prodigy at her mother's dance studio, and no wonder. Helping Dina launch her own career in ballet was Teri's goal from the moment she gave birth. It was only after the accident that severed Dina's foot from the ankle, when their dreams shattered.

Doctors worked diligently to reconnect her foot in a ten-hour long operation, but it took years of therapy, and a few more surgeries, to get her to the point she was today. For the most part, she could do ordinary activities without too much trouble, but dancing for long periods was out of the question. Dina glanced down at her foot now, wrapped in an Ace bandage from this morning when she woke with it swollen and throbbing.

"Daddy, the benefit is next Saturday! How am I supposed to be ready by then?"

"As I stated before, you are the only one who can be ready by then. I was hoping you would be able to do this for me." Branson gave her his best "make me proud" look, which had Dina melting.

"Oh, all right, Daddy," she pouted. "But you owe me big time for this one!"

"You are right, I really do," he laughed. "Now, one other thing. Next Friday night is when the contributors will drop off their items for donation. I have a list here of who will bring what for donation. You should be there Friday to see what items are up for bid. You can do a little PR with the clients."

Dina started to panic. "Won't you be there?"

"Oh, well, yes, of course. I just wanted you to be there as well."

Dina took the proffered list and nodded as she looked it over. "Shredding? Fencing service? Stud service?" Dina looked up from the list, her own blue eyes mirroring questions back at her father's.

"It's a benefit for the children's hospital, but being held during the next cowboy breakfast. You know, ranchers, farmers?"

Dina disguised a snort of contempt as she folded the list. "So exactly where am I meeting you on Friday?"

"At the campgrounds of the cowboy breakfast, of course!" He laughed as she raised her eyebrow and turned to leave the room. Giving a curt nod to Mr. Bowens, she shut the door behind her with a smart click.

Back at her desk, she unfolded the list once more and perused the contributor list. Stopping on a familiar name, she reread it. "Chase Bowens, hmmm. Any relation to Mitchell Bowens, I wonder?" She picked up the phone and dialed Mitchell's number.

"Mitch here," came his gruff voice.

"Yes, it's Dina. I was wondering if you knew this Chase Bowens by any chance?"

"Yeah, that's my brother's eldest son. He runs his maternal grandmother's ranch now, the Rocking B outside of Kerrville."

"I see he is donating stud service from his champion Brahma bull, Death Warrant?"

"Yeah, should bring a good auction price on that one." He laughed.

Dina wrinkled her nose. "I'm sure." Sarcasm laced her voice. "Well, I was just wondering. I guess I'll be meeting your nephew next Friday, then."

"I'm sure he will bring the bull Saturday morning for display, but I'm not sure who will bring the packet of information on Friday night. Maybe a ranch hand. Chase is a busy fellow out there."

"All right then, Mr. Bowens. Thank you." Dina placed the phone in its cradle with a frustrated thump. She would never have believed her dad roped her into this charity benefit. She snorted in derision as she realized the irony of her thoughts. "Roped into this, yeah, I surely was," she said out loud as she packed her briefcase before heading home for the day.

The early October sun hid behind a blanket of thick gray clouds, like it usually did this time of year, as Dina got behind the wheel of her sedan. She looked in the rearview and freshened up her lipstick before backing out. Pursing her ruby red lips in approval, she pulled a brush quickly through her hair as she made her way across town to surprise her boyfriend for dinner.

Mark Grey ran his own highly successful bar and grill in the fastest growing part of the city, and was getting ready to launch another just like it across town. She knew Mark had spent most of the day with the contractors at the new location, and the last time she had spoken with him on the phone, he told her he expected to be tied up there for a bit longer.

Dina smiled widely as she thought about the surprise she had planned for him. Lately, Mark seemed extremely preoccupied and their intimate moments had begun spiraling to a few stolen moments that usually ended up leaving her frustrated and unsatisfied. More and more, Mark seemed to use her to relieve his frustrations and didn't seem to care whether she had any satisfaction while they made love. In fact, Dina never even had the pleasure of a climax with him, but kept hoping the shining moment would happen just like all the magazine articles and books explained. Mark had been her first and only sexual partner.

She had met him attending college courses in the local community college shortly after her accident. She had still depended on a cane at that point, and Mark had been chivalrous enough to carry her heavy load of books whenever he could. Now, after dating for seven years and not any closer to getting a marriage proposal or a satisfactory night of pleasure, Dina became more and more disenchanted with him. However, she couldn't bring herself to break it off with him. He was like an old, comfortable shoe--worn, a bit loose of a fit, and just a little too easy to slide into rather than break in a new pair.

But tonight, she was willing to pull out all the stops to make the magic happen. Armed with a bottle of Shiraz, soft music by Enya, and the preparations she had made earlier, Dina hoped to surprise him into a night of endless passion.

As she lifted her foot to press on the brake, her skirt slid up her thigh a few inches. Cool air from the air conditioner wafted its way to her panty-less crotch, which caused her to smile secretly at a stoplight. A man in the next truck looked down and smiled. Of course he didn't know what she smiled about, but Dina thought he'd probably go wild if he knew what was not under her skirt. Her nipples hardened and she knew the thin material of her blouse could not disguise the fact that she had no bra on, either.

The longer the man ogled her, the longer the light seemed to take and Dina started to feel a bit self conscious. When the light turned green, Dina mashed the accelerator. Praying she wouldn't be followed, she made a quick right turn on the next street. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she didn't see any sign of the truck. Mark's new restaurant loomed into view and she pulled in next to his car, the only one left by that time of evening.

Grateful he had not locked the door, she tried her best to sneak in without being heard. She turned the knob and stepped quietly across the wooden floor in her stiletto heels. When she arrived at his private office space, she nearly laughed. She could have stomped like an elephant and he wouldn't have heard. He had fallen asleep in his desk chair, sitting upright.

Walking up to him, she placed a knee on either side of his and kissed him on the forehead. He startled slightly, then smiled as she sucked gently on the corner of his lip.

"Mmmmm, darling, what a nice surprise," he whispered, running his hand down her back and across the curve of her bottom. As his hand ran down her thigh and back up under her skirt, Dina ran a trail of kisses across his jaw. She liked the reaction she got when his hand came into contact with her bare skin under the skirt. "Oh, now what's this?"

"A little surprise for you," she whispered, kissing him on the lips. The kiss deepened for several long moments as his hand sought the moist slit between her legs, causing Dina's passion to intensify quickly. His fingers pressed deep within, then started a long and agonizingly slow stroke as he thrust his tongue into her mouth with the same deliberate slowness.

"So my girl is needing something from me," he groaned, pulling his belt loose.

Dina put a hand on his. "Oh, no, sweetheart. First, we go to dinner where you can sit next to me and think about what is under my skirt. Dessert!" She laughed as she stood up and walked across the room, realizing how much the heels hurt her ankle. But she knew she had to wear them for only a couple more hours.

"Oh, you kill me," Mark whined, but rose from the chair with a glint of delight in his eyes. "I don't think I'll be able to eat as I think about you sitting there with no panties or," he stepped close to her and grazed her nipples with the tips of his fingers, "the fact that you have very little on at all." He grabbed his keys and escorted her quickly to his car.

"Where to, when we get done with dinner? Did you want to take your car and go to your place?"

"No, sweetie, I was thinking we could initiate your new business tonight. What do you think?"

"I like the way you think." He kissed her roughly, pressing her between him and the car, his erection pressing into her lower abdomen as he spent a few more moments kissing her. His thumbs flicked over her nipples, which would be her undoing if he continued, and both of them knew it.

"Keep that up, and you will miss dinner," she moaned as his hand went under her shirt to tease her nipples more. She reached between them to stroke his bulging tumescence.

"How about right here and now?" he groaned, lifting her skirt slightly.

"And get arrested for a public display?" She laughed, suddenly realizing that several cars had stopped on the street with the occupants watching. She smoothed her clothes before getting in his car as Mark held the door open.

On the way to the restaurant, he repeatedly ran his hand up her thigh and back down to her knee. Each stroke grew closer to her blonde down that was shaved carefully into the shape of a heart. Lifting her skirt slightly, she held his hand back as she slid her own finger down across her wet slit and slowly pushed into the slick and satiny folds.

"Oh, baby, you are killing me," he groaned, attempting to keep the car on the road as he stole glances from time to time. She slid a second finger in and began a slow in and out motion, throwing her head back as she allowed herself to experience the pleasure. Several times Mark tried to move his hand, but she smiled and shook her head as she drew her fingers down the sides of her full breasts and back up to circle the peaked buds.

Dina immersed herself into giving herself pleasure and only allowing Mark to watch. Time and again she brought her finger from the depths of her molten heat to suck on it suggestively then sent it back down to stroke her swollen and throbbing clit that ached to be released of pent up passion.

"Baby, let's go back to my apartment." Mark leaned over after parking the car to kiss her. His kiss felt cold and uninviting, as if he had nothing to give in the way of passion, yet drew every ounce of vibrant energy Dina had to offer. His hand slid under her shirt to pinch a nipple, causing an electric shock of pain to run through her.

"Ouch!" she cried, trying not to let her irritation show.

"Sorry, babe," he growled in her ear. "You get me so hot, I can't help but be an animal."

She had chosen Luigi's Italian restaurant, a small, intimate setting known for its romantic, candlelit dinners and dark corner booths for lovers to woo each other. The waiter showed them to a table in the middle, but she declined, requesting a small corner booth. Dina slid into the corner, leaving Mark to sit with his back to the rest of the restaurant. Tall walls sheltered them from the rest of the world and she nodded her approval at the waiter.

"May I show you the wine list?" he asked.

"We will take a bottle of your best Merlot," Mark answered.

Minutes later, the rich burgundy liquid was being poured as Dina smiled at Mark, running her bare foot up his pant leg.

When the waiter left, Mark turned to face Dina as she snuggled up to him, sipping her wine. "Now where were we?" he asked. "Oh, yes, I believe we were here." He pressed his lips below her ear and she smiled as she ran her free hand over his growing erection. Mark's hand slipped up her skirt to explore her slit, parting the secret curtain roughly and driving his fingers in she slid her hand over the bulge in his slacks.

"Mmmm, baby, I could take you right here," he growled in her ear.

"You probably would, and with enough wine, I might even let you." She laughed, then drained her glass. The warmth of the liquid simmered a fire within her very veins as it freed her inhibitions. She wasn't even a little chagrined as the waiter announced his presence moments later. She knew the lengthy tablecloth hid their hands and the direction of their movements, but closer examination would reveal all. She furtively moved her hand to her lap and pulled her skirt down a fraction as she ordered the fettuccini. Mark ordered the eggplant parmigiana, his voice thick with excitement, and she could tell he was anxious for the waiter to take his leave.

Wine glasses refilled, Mark showered her neck with soft kisses as she resumed her epicurean role of stroking him into a climatic frenzy. He allowed her to unfasten his pants and reach inside. He was hot and practically throbbing, so swollen with lust that the head of his shaft was a deep blue-red. Dina stroked him as he rubbed her clit. She could tell he was getting close to the edge, for in his excitement, he pressed into her soft flesh a bit too hard. Time and again in the past she would tell him that the sensation was not pleasurable at all, but rather painful, yet he never seemed to understand.

Feigning a climax would push him over the top, so Dina squirmed and whimpered softly in his ear as she increased the intensity of her stroke.

"Baby, I want to cum in your mouth," he whispered.

Dina stole a furtive glance across the room then bent over to slide her painted, red lips over his swollen member. His hips thrust his swelling cock deep into her mouth for just a few strokes before his warm, salty cum exploded. Dina wanted more than anything to spit the bitter tasting fluid out, but she swallowed, knowing it would leave a recognizable mess if not. After cleaning the residue with his napkin, she sat up and drained her glass of wine to wash down the taste.

Mark zipped his pants and sat with his head propped against the back of the booth, apparently satisfied with life in general. Dina snuggled up to him where he let a limp hand rest on her shoulder.

"Babe, that was hot," he gloated.

"Yes, that would have to be the most creative we have gotten, ever," she agreed, wishing she could share in his passion-sated bliss.

She pulled her skirt down and he tucked his shirt into his pants moments before steaming hot plates of food arrived. As they dined, Mark chatted with heated animation about the completion of his new business. Dina tried to follow attentively, but kept thinking about how their entire relationship revolved around him.

She knew she harbored unhealthy resentment that would soon fester into something worse, but talking about it was of no use. Mark would say he listened when she had a concern, but the issue never seemed to resolve. He never could remember things important to her. Dina was pretty sure he had never even been to her office, and had barely stepped foot into her apartment.

By the time they finished dinner, Dina had pretty well had enough of Mark for the evening. When they arrived back at his new business, Dina grabbed her car keys and gave him a chaste kiss.

"Is that it? Sure you don't want to come in for a bit?" he asked, a hint of a pout in his voice. "Play a bit?"

"No, I'm not feeling well," she said, pressing her forehead with the back of her hand. "I need to go lie down and get some sleep."

"Goodnight then, sweetheart. Thank you for the surprise. It was fantastic."

Dina winked before closing her car door. The drive to her apartment seemed to take forever this time. When the door loomed into view, she exhaled heavily. Bottle of forgotten Shiraz in one arm, she locked the door behind her and headed to the kitchen to pour herself a glass.

Sipping it as she stripped her clothes and washed her face, by the time she finally lay down in between the cool, crisp sheets, she began to feel the warm and woozy effects. Television held nothing of interest as she flipped through the channels until she came upon an ad for a late night adult pay per view channel.

"What the heck?" she giggled, almost blushing as she hit the "pay" button. She drained her wine glass as the show loaded, but had a change of heart and turned the set off. Remembering her frustrated state earlier in the evening, Dina impulsively mashed the "on" button again. The screen jumped to life to show a naked, large breasted woman dancing in front of a man in a business suit.

Dina frowned, thinking how voyeuristic this was of her, but when the woman leaned over the man and he began sucking on her nipples, Dina felt a sudden flash of desire and began caressing her own bare nipples. The man's hand slid down to the woman's shaved mound and fingered her slit. Dina slid her hand down to imitate him, suddenly immersed in the scene, living it as if she were the woman.

The man quickly undressed to reveal a huge penis. She sat mesmerized for moments, staring at him, wondering how it would feel to be penetrated by something so big. She had to admit, she never had sex with anyone other than Mark, so she had nothing to compare. She figured the man on the screen had to be at least a good eight to nine inches, and the girth of him incredibly twice as big as Mark.

Dina watched in amazement as he bent the woman over and seemed to enter her with ease from behind. The camera caught every glorious inch of him slowly sliding in, then the wet glisten of her juice on him as he slid back out with agonizing slowness. This pace kept up for long moments, intensifying the raw desire that built in Dina. She slid her fingers in, trying ever so hard to find that elusive "G" spot that everyone spoke of and she had yet to find. Letting her legs fall open, she pressed into her wet recesses, becoming increasingly slick as the woman on the screen moaned with each stroke. Dina felt her wet tunnel swell around her fingers, yet the big "O" evaded her.

Resorting to the old fashioned "fast-burn" orgasm, Dina slowly slid her finger over her clit, matching pace with the couple on the screen. Spreading her legs wider, she put herself there with him, taking that huge cock into her wet cunt. Sweat beaded her forehead as she felt the first wave of pleasure building quickly, her legs quivered as the first spasms hit her.

"Oh yeah, baby," the woman groaned. "I'm going to cum." The pace quickened, the huge cock ramming into her, plunging deep into her hot, molten recesses.

She was so close, her heart racing as she pinnacled and hovered there for moments. Pushing two fingers into her pussy as deep as they could reach, she felt her insides clasp her fingers in waves as her warm juices flowed in abundance.

With wide-eyed wonder, she watched the man spread the woman's legs wide and dip his face into her mound. The camera angle moved, assuring a full view of his tongue caressing and laving every recess between the woman's legs. Dina wondered what it would be like to have a man go down on her. Mark had never once tried it. Dina suddenly became extremely resentful of the relationship she had with him, knowing that she must find a way to move on.

The woman on the screen writhed on the bed as the man flicked his tongue over her clit repeatedly. Dina had remained with her legs spread wide, wishing she could feel that huge penis sliding inside her. She played with her nipples until she was nearly in a frenzy of desire, and as the large member pounded the woman's wet slit, Dina pushed herself over the edge again as she pleasured herself with her hands. Soon after, she faded into a deep and blissful sleep, and the couple on the screen moved on to their next adventure.