A Private Dance Ch 02

Jessie had exited Maxxy's just in time to see Miranda slide into the back seat of her limousine and Anthony, her driver/bodyguard get in the driver's seat and pull out of the parking lot. This didn't surprise her, but the man on the motorcycle following close behind the limo did. Jessie just knew it was that stripper that had put Miranda through the paces on the strip club stage a little while ago. "Damn, get it, baby!" Jessie said to herself in the night air, then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in Miranda's number. She had to know if Miranda was going to meet up with the hunky dancer in private. Miranda's cell rang twice then went to voicemail.

You bitch!

Jessie thought with a slight smile on her face. She'd just have to wait until tomorrow to hear the details.

Miranda's cell phone buzzed, and she retrieved the device from her pants pocket. Jessie's name popped up on the screen and Miranda instinctively moved her thumb to the ANSWER button. Before she could swipe right to connect the call, Miranda decided to silence the call and let it go to voicemail.

Not tonight, Jess,

Miranda thought as she put the phone back in her pocket. As she looked up from her lap, Miranda saw her driver/guard Anthony staring at her in the rear-view mirror.

"Speak your mind, Anthony." Miranda ordered her employee.

"Mrs. Mason," Anthony started, "do you think this is a good idea? Inviting this... man over to the estate? You barely know him. He could be a threat to your life. At least let me check him out before you allow him into the house, ma'am."

"That's fine, Anthony," Miranda replied, "but don't call me Mrs. Mason around him. Use my maiden name or my first name." She knew Anthony would NEVER address her by her first name. "Although when we arrive at the house, I'm sure he'll know who I am."

Who in Gravel City DOESN'T know my house?

Miranda thought as she turned to look out the back window. The single headlight from David's motorcycle still followed the limousine at a constant two-car length distance, a bright yellow circle trailing the stretch vehicle as if connected by an invisible string.

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David kept the front of his Honda between the taillights of Miranda's limousine while following at the requisite two-car length distance. David loved riding his bike, but he was also smart about it. He didn't weave in and out of heavy traffic like some of the other bikers did, he always wore his helmet, unlike some of the other motorcyclists in town, and he always followed at a safe distance to compensate for the unexpected. David chuckled internally when he repeated the word

Unexpected

in his head. Tonight was the definition of unexpected. He couldn't believe this woman was actually going to pay him $2000 an hour for his services. Whatever services she wanted, David would be happy to oblige. Even if she didn't come through with the money, David felt there was something about this woman, this Miranda Danvers that he wanted to explore. Her ice blue eyes seemed to penetrate through his hazel gaze into his very soul. But David did hope there was

some

money though. After all, Louie the Nine was still looming in the shadows waiting for next Friday.

David saw the limo turn right off Wilmont Avenue on to Old Gravel River Road. David knew this road well. He would often ride his motorcycle down Old GR Road through the most affluent neighborhood in Gravel City. The crème de la crème of south central Michigan lived here in houses on the prettiest portion of the waterway that cut through the city. No McMansions here; these homes were the real deal, owned by the wheelers and dealers of the area, including the ever-lurking Louie the Nine, whose house was only three lots down from the Governor's mansion, a nearly palatial structure eclipsed by only one other on the 3-mile stretch of road. The Mason House

was

a palace nestled at the top of the crest halfway down the length of Old GR. Built in 1932 at the height of the Great Depression, the house was magnificence in architecture. Nine bedrooms sprawled across three floors and two bathrooms on each level. The grounds were adorned with a tennis court, swimming pool with a grotto that rivaled the one at the Playboy mansion, and a greenhouse that provided fresh flowers even through the harsh Michigan winters.

David realized that they were, indeed, motoring up to the Mason House and it dawned on him exactly who Miss Miranda Danvers was. Most everyone, including David, had heard of Miranda Mason, entrepreneur and widow of Allen Mason, fourth generation President of The Mason Corporation. David couldn't believe he didn't recognize her from the pictures he'd seen in the paper or online.

Her hair is shorter. That's why I didn't know who she was right off,

he thought as the massive iron gate in the front of the driveway swung open to allow both the limousine and David's motorcycle entrance to the impressive grounds. The black stretch vehicle stopped at the top of the circle drive and David brought his bike to rest just behind the car's back bumper.

Anthony quickly made his way from the driver's seat to the back-passenger door of the limo and opened it for his employer. Miranda stepped out and grinned at David as he removed his full-faced riding helmet and dismounted from his trusty Honda. She climbed the marble steps to the front door and stopped before opening the double French doors.

"Please come in, Mr. Andrews," Miranda said as she beckoned David with her left hand. The two walked through the door together with Anthony close behind keeping a watchful eye on David. Miranda led David to a room with a long black leather couch and a few matching chairs. One side had a full bar with many bottles of top-shelf liquor and a giant mirror behind them while the other side of the room held an entertainment center with a massive flat-screen television and stereo system that David though may rival the system at Maxxy's.

"Anthony," Miranda continued, "please pour Mr. Anders a glass of wine if he so desires and then you are excused for the rest of the night."

"Yes, Miss Ma... Miss Danvers..." Anthony replied, obviously annoyed at his early dismissal and Miranda's lack of sense at excusing him and leaving her unprotected.

"Mr. Andrews," Miranda said as she turned her attention to David, "please excuse me for a few minutes as I change. I've been in these clothes all day and would like to make myself a little more comfortable." Miranda internally cringed at her unplanned cliché but continued. "Please enjoy my parlor and make yourself at home. I'll be right back then we can discuss matters."

When Miranda was out of the parlor and earshot, Anthony went to the bar and poured a glass of white zinfandel into a goblet and set it on the table next to the couch. He then walked over to David and roughly turned him around and began frisking him for weapons. When he was certain that David had no offending items on his person, Anthony spun David back around to face him and grabbed the young dancer by the lapels of his leather riding jacket.

"If you try anything with her, boy, anything she doesn't want to happen, you'll never make it out that front door alive. Understand?" Anthony spoke and lifted David off the floor by his jacket. The two men were nose-to-nose as Anthony uttered his threat.

"I swear I'm not here to do anyone any harm, Anthony." David replied shakily, trying to keep his composure as the giant bodyguard effortlessly held him four inches off the floor. "You can trust me."

"I don't trust anyone when it comes to her," Anthony responded as he lowered David back to his feet, "so just watch yourself." Anthony picked up the glass of wine and roughly placed it in David's hand. "Enjoy your night, sir. I won't be far away if EITHER of you need anything."

David stood motionless as Anthony left the parlor and shut the door. He breathed a sigh of relief that the enormous limo driver hadn't destroyed him right there in Miranda's living room. David took a large gulp of wine to steady his nerves.

I may need something stronger than wine if things keep going like this tonight

, he thought as he surveyed the room while waiting for Miranda to return.

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Miranda chided herself as she climbed the polished stone steps to the second floor where the master bedroom sat. "Change into something more comfortable?" She said to herself. "Geez, Miranda, real cool! I'm surprised you didn't say it in Madeline Kahn's German accent from

Blazing Saddles

!" Her self-admonishment done, Miranda hurried to her room to find something to wear that would accentuate her curves and wasn't made of flannel. She had to dig through her walk-in closet until she was nearly at the back where clothes that hadn't seen the light of day since Allen was alive resided. A quick twinge of regret ran through Miranda's mind as the memory of her husband once more came to the forefront. Then Jessie's words followed Allen's memory.

He's gone, baby. And you need to be happy again...

"Yeah, Jess..." Miranda once more spoke to no one but herself. "You're right." As if fate were listening, a short silver silk nightie fell off its hanger and onto Miranda's foot. She picked the skimpy sleepwear off the floor, studied it for a second, then nodded her head. "This'll work, or nothing will!" she exclaimed. Miranda quickly stripped her clothes off until she stood in her white bra and cotton panties. She contemplated finding a sexy matching set of undergarments to wear underneath the short nightie, but in the end decided to leave them off completely. Miranda unhooked her bra and slipped the straps from her shoulders then wiggled out of her underwear. She stood in front of the full-length mirror for a few seconds studying her naked form. She and Allen had talked about having children, but he had gotten sick before they could conceive so the ravages of child-bearing and birth hadn't taken its toll on Miranda's body.

Not bad for thirty-one,

she thought as she slipped the nightie over her head and down her torso. The silk felt good on her skin and she felt a tingle begin in her middle and radiate outward to the outer folds of her pussy, which she was thankful that she had trimmed her overgrown nest of honey-colored pubes on a whim the day before.

Miranda looked for one more thing to make herself look irresistible to David and began to paw through the bottom of her closet where she kept all her footwear. She decided on a pair of transparent plastic 3-inch heels that accentuated her pretty legs and ass and showed off her recent pedicure, just on the off chance that David was a foot guy. Miranda ran her fingers through her short blonde hair and applied a quick sheen of lip gloss to her mouth. She felt silly checking herself out in the mirror like a teenager, but she wanted to make sure she was attractive to David.

But why?

She wondered. "I just met this guy!" she said to her empty room. "What is it about him?" She could sit in her room and ask herself questions all night long, or she could walk her mostly-naked form down the stairs and see if David felt the same as she did or if he was just in it for the money. Either way, Miranda would have one hell of a story for Jessie tomorrow morning.

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David paced the parlor as he sipped his wine and waited for Miranda to return. There were no books or magazines in the room, no pictures on the walls, not even a remote for the television. After reading the labels on nearly all the liquor bottles at the bar, David turned his attention to the sound system encased in the entertainment center. The components were all behind glass and there seemed to be no way to access the system to turn it on to test it out.

"My husband was a musician and liked the best sound quality he could find. You don't want to know how much that system cost." Miranda's voice startled David for a second and he whirled around to face her. When she had said she was going to make herself more comfortable, David expected jeans and a T-shirt. As he faced Miranda, he saw that she was wearing a shimmery nightgown that stopped three inches above her knees and hung delicately on her shoulders with thin spaghetti straps. On her feet were see-through heels that made her legs look like the stems on the female dancers that worked during the week at Maxxy's. Miranda's lips looked moist and inviting and he had to stop himself from pressing his mouth to hers right then.

"Your husband must have been a man that liked to have the finest of everything: electronics, alcohol... women." David replied as he took a step toward Miranda. Miranda mirrored David's motion and stepped forward also, then sidestepped him and went to the bar. She poured herself a glass of the wine David was drinking then sat in the oversized leather chair next to the couch. As she sat, Miranda lifted one leg up to tuck under herself, giving David a good look at her bare thigh and answering the question he had thought to himself when he first saw her in the silver nightie:

I wonder if she's wearing anything under that?

Miranda took another sip of wine then spoke, "So, shall we begin, Mr. Andrews?"

David finished the wine in his glass and set it on the mahogany top of the bar. "Are you really going to pay me $2000 an hour for this, Mrs. Mason?" David used her married name on purpose to let her know that her ruse had been sniffed out.

"Yes, I will pay you what we discussed, Mr. Andrews," Miranda replied then finished her own wine in one large gulp. "And please, call me Miranda."

"Fine, Miranda," David answered, "then please call me David."

"Very well, David, let's begin" Miranda agreed then raised her voice a few decibels and called out. "Alexa, dim the lights in the parlor seventy-five percent and play

Always With Me, Always With You

by Joe Satriani."

"Dimming the lights in the parlor seventy-five percent and Playing

Always With Me, Always With You

by Joe Satriani"

the female computer-generated voice echoed Miranda's order. Instantly, the sound of an intricately-picked guitar backed by timed handclaps permeated throughout the parlor as the slow driving instrumental song began. Miranda sat back in the stuffed leather chair and waited for David to begin earning his money.

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David heard the song begin and ran it through his mind quickly. After nearly five years of dancing at Maxxy's, he could improvise to nearly anything. He shot Miranda an almost wicked smile, then began to rhythmically move his torso and lower body to the beat as he slipped the white polo shirt over his head, revealing his toned abs and muscular pecs. David strutted to the chair that Miranda had occupied and bent to pick her up. He slipped his arm under Miranda's bare legs and picked her up, cradling her in his strong arms. David took two steps to the left and moved to place Miranda on the long leather couch.

"It's your $2000, Miranda," David whispered in Miranda's ear before placing her on the black sofa cushion, "what would you like?"

"Well," Miranda said quietly as David gently sat her on the couch, "first, I want to see what was in that leather pouch you were bouncing on my leg earlier tonight at the club." Miranda surprised herself with her forwardness as she continued. "Then we'll see what happens from there," she concluded.

"As you wish, Mrs. Mason." David answered and swiftly removed his boots and socks. He was now clad in just his jeans which he unbuttoned and slowly pulled the zipper down. Miranda's eyes widened slightly as she noticed that David, seductively wiggling his hips out of the denim material, had replaced his black stripper thong with... nothing. All Miranda could see in the dim light was more of David's skin, well-tanned even in his pubic region. Just as David was about to give Miranda the big reveal, he quickly pulled his jeans back around his waist and replaced the button into its hole.

"How do I know you'll pay up if I do this?" David asked with a little grin. He was teasing Miranda and she knew it.

"Do you want me to write you a check right now?" Miranda answered laughing. "As you've probably already figured out, I'm good for it."

David nodded in agreement then turned around so he was facing away from the couch and Miranda. As the song continued, David once more undid the button on his jeans then proceeded to slide them down his hips and legs until they pooled on the floor around his ankles. Miranda got a good look at David's firm backside and wanted to sink her fingers into his sexy cheeks.

"Last chance to forget all this and go to Denny's and get some pancakes!" David joked as he looked behind him to see Miranda ogling his ass.

"Maybe after we're finished here..." Miranda said, her eyes transfixed on David's naked frame.

As Joe Satriani tapped furiously on his guitar, David spun around and revealed his full self to Miranda. Her eyes widened once more as all the tanned dancer came into view. David's cock, like the rest of his body, was magnificent. Not overly huge, but just the right size to make the tingling in Miranda's middle start anew and this time settle in her ever-moistening vagina. David came to Miranda then knelt on the floor, obscuring her view of his beautiful member. Miranda's head began to swirl with delight as David grabbed her legs and put her feet to the floor. He rubbed his nakedness up the length of Miranda's smooth stems until his cock, becoming harder by the second, rested just under the hem of her silver nightie. As he slowly stood, David's erect dick lifted the bottom of Miranda's sleepwear, exposing her bare pussy. Miranda quickly removed the silk nightgown from David's hard shaft and re-covered her own nudeness.

"Not part of the deal, cowboy." Miranda admonished David. "Not unless I say so."

"Of course, Mrs. Mason." David replied. He had reverted to calling her by her married name to see if he could get a rise out of her. And it sounded naughtier to him and hoped it did to her as well. David had done private dances before and knew what the ladies, especially those older than him, wanted to hear. But this one was different. He had never been this nervous, although he didn't let Miranda see, nor had he been this aroused with the others. His cock stuck out in front of him, taunting him to continue his seduction without release. David accepted the challenge and continued his performance.

David placed one foot on the arm of the leather couch and inched his body forward until his raging hard-on was a mere half-inch from Miranda's face. It took all her internal strength to not reach out with her tongue and lick the bulbous head of David's engorged cock that now bounced and swayed in front of her eyes. Somehow, she tore her eyes away from his manhood and looked David in the eyes as he moved his hips, causing his inflated dick to bob in front of his blonde client's nose and lips. As the song began to fade out, David moved the half-inch closer to Miranda's face so that the tip of his long cock made contact with her glossy lips. Miranda could not stop herself this time as her tongue shot out from between her lips and swirled twice around David's mushroom-like cockhead. Before Miranda could reach out with her hand to guide David's rock-hard member into her mouth, David backed away then spoke up.

"Maybe we should think about this, Miranda..." David said as he gathered his clothes from the floor. "I mean, you're caught up in the moment and, money or no money, I..."

"$10,000, David." Miranda interrupted her nude entertainer. "$10,000 to stay the night with me here. No strings, no complications, and at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, I'll have your money in cash and you're free to leave and never see me again, if you wish."