Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Tuesday Teasing!

Secret...I love a man who can dance. That's more than likely the reason I love Warren from my Rough in the Saddle series the most. The boy has got moves! I think maybe Warren would be a good candidate for the Chippendale's. Enjoy a video of them dancing to Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy. Afterwards, enjoy a an excerpt from Warren's Story!

Excerpt: The crowd cheered when Warren stepped forward, took off his hat, and waved before putting it back on his head. He had danced here many times over the years, so most knew him well. He’d also earned quite a bit of money doing so. When Prince belted through the speakers with his loud, strangled yell, Warren immediately fell into the rhythm of the bass pumping in the background. He moved gracefully on his feet, sliding across the stage, his body moving to the music, stopping abruptly, thrusting his hips, fists pounding in a mock fuck scene. Shouts echoed as he moved, boots clunking out a hip hop beat, fluidly moving with the music seducing him. He stopped, glided to the edge of the runway and rolled his body from head to toe with the beat. He held up two fingers on his left hand and three on the other when Prince belted out there were twenty three positions in a one night stand. His hands smoothed down his chest as he swayed to the sensual rhythm. When he reached his bulge he grasped it tight in his large hand and rolled his hips.
John had him hard, but dancing for a room full of people, many of whom he knew he was making hard in return, stoked the fire in his gut and his cock ached to be buried deep in a tight hole. Dancing was a turn-on for him. The loud bass thumping touched his soul, rippling through him, causing him to move and find rhythm. Dancing was a lot like sex. Depending on the mood or music, either could be fast or slow. He moved his shoulders back and forth, wiggling his hips, and unbuttoning his shirt. Bouncing with his feet crisscrossing, he stopped, added in a little country with heels clunking, and then zig-zagged heel to toe, back and forth as he slid over the runway.
Whoops sounded out and loud whistles erupted in response to his fast footwork. Warren grinned, continuing to move, loving the appreciative sounds of the audience. He shrugged out of his shirt, tossed it to the side, and sprinted forward, falling to his knees in a slide to the end of the runway. Pumping his hips to the beat he mouthed “Gett Off” in time with Prince’s lyrics and pounded his fists on his hips.
Warren spun around on one knee, leaned back, pumping with the rhythm slowly working his back closer and closer to the floor. Hands groped the inside of his thighs, the audience showing their appreciation and their desire with playful touching. He rose up, covered his groin, and waggled his finger at the men. As he spun back around, he hopped to his feet and immediately fell forward, catching himself. Slow push-ups showcased the muscles in his back and arms. With his hips pumping, he flexed his ass, humping the air to loud groans all around.
Warren crawled on his hands and knees like a big cat on the prowl to the edge of the stage. A delicious cowboy beckoned him to come closer, waving a large bill in the air, and catching Warren’s attention. The man tucked the money in the fly of his jeans and swayed to the music, inviting Warren to retrieve it. Warren sat back on his knees and teased the hot cowboy with a seductive gaze, hands touching himself, fanning his nipples, falling down to cup his groin. The man wetted his lips and grinned, eating him up with his fierce gaze. Warren had found his Mr. Right Now and offered his boot-clad feet to him. The man pulled both boots off with his intense stare never moving from Warren’s eyes. The act was so hot Warren nearly forgot what he was doing.
As Warren regained his focus and cleared the sexually-induced fog from his mind, the showman inside came alive again. He leaned forward and dipped his head low, taking the bill from the man’s fly with his teeth, rising with gyrating hips and his body in perfect cadence with the music. Cheers deafened him. He winked at Mr. Right Now and hopped to his feet and spun with his hands on his buckle. The eager crowd began to demand he take off his jeans. Warren felt his body heat up as he tugged his belt off, wrapped it under his ass and bent over while raking the leather back and forth, teasing them. He caught John grinning at him from the edge and he beamed inside.
Warren dropped his belt and rolled his hips as he began to unbutton his jeans. Mr. Right Now watched with fascination and waited while chewing his lip. Warren offered a heated gaze and pushed his jeans to his ankles. Underneath, he was wearing a tiny pair of briefs. On the back in bold red letters was written “Spank Me.” Loud, obnoxious wails and shouts filled the bar. Warren stood up and swiveled his hips as he moved in time with the bass, giving all a peek at his briefs.
The music was ending and Warren was damn grateful, because the ache in his cock was so intense that he had a hard time concentrating. He hooked his thumbs in the briefs and wiggled them down, swaying his ass to whistles erupting all around. As he stood back up, he rolled his hips, his erection jutting straight up, and allowed the sensual feeling to wash through him as the eyes watching took him in. He stilled and reached for his hat, took it off and swung it over his head in a circular motion, coaxing the audience give up loud appreciation.

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