Shake It For Me

Aimee-Marie gives him a dance to remember

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All he could see was her massive tits filling his dimly-lit red-tinted vision. Barely bridled by the balconette bra cradling them, her dark nipples were unmistakable behind the gauzy material but his eyes never left the pendulous motion of the twin orbs as Aimee-Marie swayed from side to side. Chewing her gum languidly, she looked the part in her cowgirl outfit.

Every little shimmy was designed to titillate and taunt, from the ten-gallon hat holding her long cascading tresses to her open plaid shirt tied off at her tanned midriff, accentuated by the big-buckled leather gunbelt above a tiny bikini, and chaps flaring down to cowboy boots which she tapped to the rhythm.

She bent close enough to smell his tobacco breath where he was perched on the pleather sofa, put her hat on his head, then swung her hair free and let Luke Bryan’s bourbon baritone possess her.

Hey girl, go on now!, You know you’ve got everybody lookin’

Turning, she touched her toes. All he saw though was the black G-string disappearing in the pink crevice between her toned ass cheeks.

Get up on the hood of my daddy’s tractor, Up on the tool box, it don’t matter

He was positively drooling when she reached out and pushed him backwards and knelt astride him, his face inches from her heaving chest. Clumsily he raised grabbing hands, but with a laugh she knocked them away.

Yeah, move like the river flows, Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes

Down slipped her hand, bunching up and pulling the thong upwards, feeling the fabric fondle her. Continuing to gyrate she flicked her fingertip over her clit, feeling the moisture soaking into the fibres. She smiled at his look of recognition as he sniffed at them, and then ground deliciously above him faster and faster as the song hit its crescendo.

The DJ spinnin’ that country song, C’mon, c’mon, c’mon

The song ended, and the house lights came up. She dismounted, slowly blowing a bubble and letting it pop before drawling, “Hon, it’ll cost a lot more if you want me to take care of that,” nodding at the massive erection tenting his jeans as she adjusted the toy pistols in her holster.

[Lyrics courtesy of Luke Bryan — Country Girl (Shake It For Me)]

An abridged and edited version of this was submitted for Round 4 of this year’s Smut Marathon. This was the first finished draft before cutting down to fit the 325 word limit.

Written by

An Englishman in New England, seeking a place to pen his thoughts

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