sarah_greer
11-20-2010, 12:20 PM
----- Forwarded Message ----
From: Sarah Greer
To: John
Sent: Sun, May 24, 2010 10:14:39 AM
Subject: Last night
Dear John,
I have been thinking about you, and what you said about wanting to see me dance.
I have been learning pole dancing - for fitness, not erotic - but I think I could do it erotically too. I hav ebeen practicing at home, and last night I laid in bed thinking about it - what I would do, imagining it. Here is what I imagined:
We are in the club you mentioned, what you called 'Ladies Night'. I am dressed decently but a bit provocatively, in a short denim skirt and sleeveless skimpy white top. I am nervous, I have never been to a place like this before, it is dark and very overtly sexual. We have come here because you persuaded me to visit to explore for real the fantasies we have discussed on line. Under my nerves I am also aroused, not so much by what is around me but by the situation - by being here, with you, and ready to push the boundaries of behavior.
I realise that the dancers are not professional, and it dawns on me that 'Ladies Night' is not for the ladies, but for the men - that these women are dancing as amateurs. Your hands push me forwards and I am on the raised platform, confused, the pole in front of me, the men cheering, egging me on.
I know what to do with the pole, from my fitness class and from my playing at home. I grasp it with one arm and begin a slow swirl, letting my body spin around it, my foot at its base and my arm outsrtetched - a simple move, not at all seductive, but the men go wild, and that arouses me, makes me feel hot, sexual, attractive. So I move again, winding my body around the pole, and the pull myself close to it, laying my face against it, hugging it. The pole is cool, its metal surafce hard, as I wrap my legs around it, as I grip it between my thighs, and the men like that, they whoop and shout as I grip the pole between my thighs and slide, up and down it.
The pole is very hard, very thick, and its pressure against me - against my vagina, my cunt - through my panties is intensely arousing. The men fade, for me, into a background noise, and my cunt seeks the pressure, strokes itself on the cold metal, the hard thick column, sliding, up and down, my knees flexing, my skirt riding up my thighs, up almost to my waist. I am clinging to the pole now, holding my body tight against it, my t-shirt rubbing its hard surface, and I feel an intense and desperate need to feel this hard thick thing against me. My t-shirt slips easily up, off my body, over my arms, and I throw it gently. The flurry of men grappling for it does not distract me, because I am lost in it now, lost in the sexuality of fucking myself against this hard thick pole, like a huge cock, so big and so hard and so long. The skirt is up to the tops of my thighs now, almost just a belt around my waist, and when I slip my panties off, letting them drop to the floor, you can see whisps of hair from my cunt where I am pressing myself against the pole.
You can see now that I am fucking myself, agaisnt the pole, pushing my cunt against it so that it actually opens me up, its hard cold curface pressing in to my cunt, spreading my cunt lips, and I am grinding yself on it, sliding up and down, up and down, my knees flexing so that my cunt can slide up and up and up and then down and down and down, long slow powerful strokes. My cunt juices are slick on the pole, you can see how the wet cunt leaves a trail of slippery juice where it rubs itself. For me, inside my head, I am really going to fuck this thing. I am climbing it, my bare thighs wrapped around it, my cunt pressed so tight onto its surface, my arma above my head and my hands gripping it so I can pull myself up, get to the top of it, climb it until I can sink my needy hungry cunt down, down onto the thick pole, so tha I can really fuck myself, can take it in, let it penetrate, feel it enter me and go in all the way. But of course the pole is high, and it has no ened, it penetrates the ceiling and so it cannot penetrate me, and my desperate clinging climbing slippery pole dance cannot give me the satisfaction that I so evidently need.
The men are quiet, almost awed by how obvious and powerful is my need to fuck myself. But as my grip on the pole slackens, and my body starts to slide down it, suddenly they are there. Hands first support me, then fondle me, and finally lift me, my naked body lying weak and limp as they carry me off, shouts and catcalls reverberating through the club. As you watch them carry me to a back room, you know, as do I, that these men are going to fuck me, very hard and for a very long time. They will lay me back, and they will all fuck me. Some will fuck me more than once. And as they fuck me, I will orgasm around each invading cock, my cunt grasping at it even when I am beyond exhaustion. They wil fuck me, all of them, until they are finished. Lovely.
From: Sarah Greer
To: John
Sent: Sun, May 24, 2010 10:14:39 AM
Subject: Last night
Dear John,
I have been thinking about you, and what you said about wanting to see me dance.
I have been learning pole dancing - for fitness, not erotic - but I think I could do it erotically too. I hav ebeen practicing at home, and last night I laid in bed thinking about it - what I would do, imagining it. Here is what I imagined:
We are in the club you mentioned, what you called 'Ladies Night'. I am dressed decently but a bit provocatively, in a short denim skirt and sleeveless skimpy white top. I am nervous, I have never been to a place like this before, it is dark and very overtly sexual. We have come here because you persuaded me to visit to explore for real the fantasies we have discussed on line. Under my nerves I am also aroused, not so much by what is around me but by the situation - by being here, with you, and ready to push the boundaries of behavior.
I realise that the dancers are not professional, and it dawns on me that 'Ladies Night' is not for the ladies, but for the men - that these women are dancing as amateurs. Your hands push me forwards and I am on the raised platform, confused, the pole in front of me, the men cheering, egging me on.
I know what to do with the pole, from my fitness class and from my playing at home. I grasp it with one arm and begin a slow swirl, letting my body spin around it, my foot at its base and my arm outsrtetched - a simple move, not at all seductive, but the men go wild, and that arouses me, makes me feel hot, sexual, attractive. So I move again, winding my body around the pole, and the pull myself close to it, laying my face against it, hugging it. The pole is cool, its metal surafce hard, as I wrap my legs around it, as I grip it between my thighs, and the men like that, they whoop and shout as I grip the pole between my thighs and slide, up and down it.
The pole is very hard, very thick, and its pressure against me - against my vagina, my cunt - through my panties is intensely arousing. The men fade, for me, into a background noise, and my cunt seeks the pressure, strokes itself on the cold metal, the hard thick column, sliding, up and down, my knees flexing, my skirt riding up my thighs, up almost to my waist. I am clinging to the pole now, holding my body tight against it, my t-shirt rubbing its hard surface, and I feel an intense and desperate need to feel this hard thick thing against me. My t-shirt slips easily up, off my body, over my arms, and I throw it gently. The flurry of men grappling for it does not distract me, because I am lost in it now, lost in the sexuality of fucking myself against this hard thick pole, like a huge cock, so big and so hard and so long. The skirt is up to the tops of my thighs now, almost just a belt around my waist, and when I slip my panties off, letting them drop to the floor, you can see whisps of hair from my cunt where I am pressing myself against the pole.
You can see now that I am fucking myself, agaisnt the pole, pushing my cunt against it so that it actually opens me up, its hard cold curface pressing in to my cunt, spreading my cunt lips, and I am grinding yself on it, sliding up and down, up and down, my knees flexing so that my cunt can slide up and up and up and then down and down and down, long slow powerful strokes. My cunt juices are slick on the pole, you can see how the wet cunt leaves a trail of slippery juice where it rubs itself. For me, inside my head, I am really going to fuck this thing. I am climbing it, my bare thighs wrapped around it, my cunt pressed so tight onto its surface, my arma above my head and my hands gripping it so I can pull myself up, get to the top of it, climb it until I can sink my needy hungry cunt down, down onto the thick pole, so tha I can really fuck myself, can take it in, let it penetrate, feel it enter me and go in all the way. But of course the pole is high, and it has no ened, it penetrates the ceiling and so it cannot penetrate me, and my desperate clinging climbing slippery pole dance cannot give me the satisfaction that I so evidently need.
The men are quiet, almost awed by how obvious and powerful is my need to fuck myself. But as my grip on the pole slackens, and my body starts to slide down it, suddenly they are there. Hands first support me, then fondle me, and finally lift me, my naked body lying weak and limp as they carry me off, shouts and catcalls reverberating through the club. As you watch them carry me to a back room, you know, as do I, that these men are going to fuck me, very hard and for a very long time. They will lay me back, and they will all fuck me. Some will fuck me more than once. And as they fuck me, I will orgasm around each invading cock, my cunt grasping at it even when I am beyond exhaustion. They wil fuck me, all of them, until they are finished. Lovely.