The steady bass of the music was already making Hermione anxious as she meekly made her way across a large room teeming with topless women and exuberant men. Her group consisted of eight male lawyers and herself, and she reluctantly acknowledged that even though this was her party, so to speak, the boys would still overrule her wishes. She reluctantly let them buy her some drinks to ease her tension and settled avoiding eye contact as she sipped on her gin and tonic. That's how she found herself, at nearly eleven o'clock on a Friday evening in the middle of a strip club floor with eight co-workers, attempting to swallow her nervousness and frigidity as she eyed the expanse of skin around her.
There were women dancing on stages and impressively twirling around poles in a manner that made Hermione feel impressed and inadequate all at the same time. In the small sea of patrons, girls of all shapes and sizes could be seen sitting on laps, dancing, and walking around with drinks.
Hermione felt very out of place indeed. She was dressed in her usual business suit. This particular one was a deep blue, which she tied with tan heels that were stylish, but still sensible. Her white blouse underneath was cut low enough to see that she was harbouring a woman's figure underneath, but still respectful enough that she could maintain professionalism with her co-workers.
Speaking of sensible, she thought as she watched a woman on stage twirl around the pole on one leg whilst hanging upside down. How can she manage to look attractive while doing that? I can hardly get out of the car without looking like an arse.
She was brought back to reality when her co-worker, Dave, touched her upper arm.
"Hermione, are you listening?" He shouted over the music.
"No, sorry. What is it?" she shouted back in his ear.
"We're going to find a table now that we've got some drinks coming, but we have a surprise for you," he said with a mischievous wink.
Just then, a large man in his late forties with the biggest biceps Hermione had ever seen walked up to them and looked down at the brunette.
"This her?" He said, and Dave nodded.
"Hermione, this gentleman will take you to your surprise. Don't worry, you'll like it better than this."
The brunette was a smart woman, and she rather doubted she was going to enjoy this "surprise." Nonetheless, it was her party after all, and as long as she could continue mainlining cocktails, she thought it couldn't be all that bad.
The buff man led her across the floor to a luxurious staircase. As she climbed up behind him, she stole a glance at her co-workers who were smiling and she saw Dave gave her a big thumbs up. She smiled back, though not entirely certain of her decision now. They passed a door into a hallway, and the blaring music was dulled dramatically. Hermione let out a sigh of relief—her head felt like it was starting to bleed internally from all the noise.
The man led her to the end of the corridor to a door and ushered her inside. Her first instinct might have been panic, but the pleasant atmosphere of the room immediately put her at ease. There were no whips or chains; no bed or sex swing as she was expecting. The decor was a tasteful and soft combination of blues, grey, and cream. It felt masculine, but still very comfortable. There were three large sofas in the room, as well as an elegant coffee table and stylish mini bar. If it weren't for the silver pole placed strategically in the middle of the room she would have thought she was at some swanky lounge rather than a strip club in the heart of the city. The background music was playing gently, and the brunette briefly registered it as she walked around the room slowly.
Talk is cheap my darling,
When you're feeling right at home.
I want to make you move with confidence,
I want to be with you alone.
The door opened again and Hermione was broken out of her reverie yet again. The buff man was back—When did he leave? —with the most stunning person Hermione had ever seen. She was wearing a tasteful silver cocktail dress and black heels. She nodded to the man who took his leave, before locking the door and turning to face her visitor.
The woman had silky, almost silver-blonde hair that flowed past her shoulders. Unlike the women downstairs, her modest dress covered a majority of skin, which Hermione found she was grateful for. Her arms and legs were toned, and the swooping neckline of her dress graciously covered the woman's breasts. Hermione raked her eyes up to the woman's slender neckline, jaw, and high cheekbones. Her eyes, she noted, were a deep blue - like the kind you only see in pictures of tropical islands, where the white sand sinks so far that all that is left is the most pure and extraordinary hue of cerulean. She was looking at Hermione in a way that made her feel naked. The brunette blushed and looked away as the blonde confidently began walking towards her into the room.
"Please, 'Ermione. Have a seat," she said in a faint French accent.
God, as if this woman couldn't get more attractive.
Hermione moved to sit, and her French companion sat on a nearby couch, so they were facing one another.
"I know your name from the booking, "she said, answering the question before the brunette had a chance to ask. "It seems your friends thought this would be a more enjoyable evening for you as opposed to downstairs' activities."
"And…what is this, as opposed to downstairs?" she replied cautiously, still unsure as to what she was getting herself into.
The blonde sat back, smiling gently at the question.
"This is…whatever you want it to be," she said, tipping her head to the head to see if Hermione understood her meaning.
She didn't, of course, and the blonde sighed, getting up from her seat to straddle Hermione's legs. The brunette's eyes widened in surprise as she subconsciously put her hands on the woman's hips, but she did not move past that.
The blonde looked into her brown eyes, searching for an inkling that she wanted to move farther. The brunette looked more nervous than anything, but she didn't seem offended. Hermione was struck by the woman's eyes up close. There was intellect, yes, but also decidedly a lack of something that should be there in a moment like this. The brunette felt like there was a carefully crafted wall allowing her to see more. The blonde leaned in and whispered near her ear, "We can do whatever you want, 'Ermione."
The brunette tightened her hands on her hips, reddening even further. She knew her body wanted the blonde. The throbbing between her legs made her certain of that. She had recently accepted that she was attracted to women, but this was starting to feel like a dream rather than reality. The blonde did not move again to touch her, but rather got off her lap and reached behind her back for the zip on her dress. Hermione felt overwhelmed as the silver fabric hung off her shoulder, exposing a lacy black bra and the top of an incredibly toned stomach.
Fuck. Whatever she was feeling felt wrong, but oh so right as the blonde continued to pull off her dress. As she reached for her shoes suddenly Hermione snapped back out of her dreamlike state.
"Wait, wait, stop," she said, halting the blonde's movements. Fleur was standing in her lacy underwear before her, seemingly confused by the reaction.
"You don't want me?" She asked, growing more concerned that the men that booked Hermione with her were now playing a prank on the brunette woman.
"No, God I do. You have no idea…I-It's just, I'm not like this. I don't think I could do anything like that. We can just talk, I don't want to get you in trouble or anything, but I…I just can't do that," she finished, feeling like she was explaining herself poorly.
"Oh, well okay." she struggled, nonplussed and a little offended, but trying to maintain a level of indifference.
"I don't even know your name."
"It's Camille," she said quickly, though Hermione could see she averted her eyes.
"That's not your real name," she said. It wasn't a question. After years of practising law Hermione could tell when she was being lied to.
"Non, it's not," the blonde replied, unwilling to divulge more. "I admit this is not generally the reaction I get."
Hermione laughed, "I bet. Don't worry, I'm fairly certain I'm the idiot here. I'm sure I'll regret my decision tomorrow." The blonde smiled at the small compliment, seemingly more comfortable as she moved to put her dress back on.
Hermione averted her eyes as she did so. Something about the situation was admittedly intimate, and there was no doubt if she had a few more drinks her resolve would have crumbled, but it just felt wrong. She wished her fat head would just get out of the way sometimes, but she knew she couldn't live with herself if she took advantage of the blonde.
"So…erm, Camille," she said pointedly, "Can I get you a drink? We can just talk. I'm not entirely sure how this works, but if you have to be somewhere else I understand."
"Non, non. Your friends booked me for the next three hours. I will just have a water please," she said carefully. Hermione understood her caution. Regardless of her own reaction, there was no doubt loosening her guard in this line of work could be dangerous. Hermione came back with two waters, and the women sat in comfortable silence for a moment. A million questions raced around the brunette's mind
"Why would your friends book you in here?" she asked curiously.
"Ah, well they aren't really my friends I suppose. It's a bunch of guys I work with. I suppose they thought it would be something I'd be into."
The blonde sat quietly, waiting for her to elaborate if she wished.
"I, erm, came out a few years ago and it finally got around my work. I was recently promoted so I guess this was their way of helping me celebrate," she said with a shrug, trying to avoid looking at the blonde's reaction.
"And what is it you do?" She asked politely, sipping on her water.
"I'm in medical law, and I was recently made partner at my firm," she explained. The blonde looked impressed.
"But you look so very young. That is an impressive accomplishment," the blonde said sincerely.
"Well, I'm not that young. I had a lot of help along the way as well. Some great mentors who—"
"'Ermione," the blonde stopped her, raising a delicate hand. "Take the compliment."
Hermione blushed and nodded, mumbling a thank you. The truth is she had worked her ass off to get to where she was. She essentially gave up her twenties for her career, but it paid off. She was the youngest partner at her firm at the age of 31.
"I—er, I haven't had a lot of time to socialise. This is my first time at a…"
"Strip club?" She finished for her, "I am not surprised. You seem nervous still."
"Mmm, I don't know that I am nervous, per se. I guess I feel…" she searched for the words. She really wasn't nervous anymore. In fact, she felt rather at ease with the blonde. But there was no denying she felt something.
"I feel inadequate, I suppose," she explained. The blonde quirked a perfect eyebrow at the admission. "Ever since I walked in the door, I've been bombarded with beautiful women dripping with confidence and sensuality. And the dancing! I'm so impressed by the strength and ability that the dancers can portray while still looking absolutely stunning. I've just never been able to loosen up, so I feel a little…you know."
Fleur sat quietly for a while, digesting what the lawyer was saying. Hermione took her silence with a different meaning.
"Oh God, that probably sounds so ignorant. I don't want to objectify you or the other women here. It's selfish of me to compare my situation, really. I don't know the struggles they might be going through. I just, I suppose being here is a visceral reminder of my lack of experience."
Fleur tipped her head to the side again, thinking.
Gosh, she looks so cute when she does that, thought the lawyer.
"'Ermione, I don't think you should compare yourself to anyone. Sensuality is not just the ability to dance and entice. It is more colourful that that. It is the ability to see and be seen. To give and take with another, but the transaction may not always be your body. Think of us, here, now. To me, this feels sensual. We are sharing something, exposing one another, so to speak. You do not have to give someone your body to know that they feel you."
Hermione couldn't quite speak yet. The blonde spoke with such passion and understanding. Again, she had the remarkable sensation that she was standing naked before the woman.
"That's…I've never quite considered it that way before. That was beautiful."
"Well, I am French," the blonde smirked. "I suppose I am a romantic at heart," she said, eliciting a laugh from the brunette.
"For what is it worth I think you are beautiful, even if you don't," the blonde said. Hermione looked at her then, and she shared a moment of depth in her eyes that was missing from their earlier encounter. She felt like she could finally see past the wall she had strategically put up.
"Thank you, Camille," she said, and now it was the blonde's turn to look away. There was some silence again between the two, and they listened to the mellow music floating down above them.
I wanna make this play
Oh, I know your faded
Mm, but stay, don't close your hands
Ooh, stay open
Mm, stay open
"Fleur," said the blonde suddenly, staring at her hands.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"My name. It's Fleur," she said, shrugging slightly in feigned indifference.
"That's a beautiful name, Fleur. It suits you," the lawyer said genuinely, and she could see the blonde relax more.
Fleur and Hermione talked easily about this and that over the next hour. Hermione learned that Fleur was a successful freelance interior designer by day but had been doing this at night for the past year. She learned she would quit if she found a meaningful relationship, but that it was hard to find anyone who cared to get past her looks. Fleur learned that Hermione was an only child, and still had not told her parents she was gay because she thought they would be disappointed. They learned they both had a love for contemporary art, wine, and traveling. They had been to many of the same cities and shared some of their favourite restaurants and parks.
"Non, non, 'Ermione, grip more with your hands!" Fleur yelled, laughing at the sight of the lawyer trying to figure out how to swing around the pole without sliding down. They had decided to open a bottle of white wine (there was a good selection in the room, as it so happened), and Hermione had shown growing interest in figuring out the mechanics of such erotic activities, leaving Fleur absolutely howling in laughter on the couch at her attempts.
"It's…just…so…. hard!" The lawyer laughed at the sight of Fleur bent in half in tears on the sofa. Never one to back down from a challenge, she jumped on the pole again and tried swinging her legs around, finally having at least held on long enough to complete a full circle.
"'Ere, let me show you," said the blonde, coming up behind her with another giggle. Hermione moved and watched Fleur focus for a moment before reaching up and gracefully starting to spin on the pole in front of her. If Hermione thought the blonde was mesmerising on solid footing, she had no way to describe her in motion. She made it look as though she weighed nothing, but the lawyer could see her muscles working to move so fluidly. After a few more impressive moments she ended her routine upside-down and spinning with her back arched. No big deal. She dismounted delicately and looked over to find the brunette with her mouth wide open.
Smirking, the blonde walked over to her and closed her mouth with a finger. Hermione snapped out of it and looked in awe at the blonde again.
"That was...wow," she said.
Fleur shrugged, "It is easier with fewer clothes on, 'Ermione. Don't flatter me too much," she said with a wink, making her way to the couch again.
Hermione looked at her on the couch, briefly glancing at the expanse of skin on her legs and arms, before turning back to the pole.
"Alright then," she said with steely resolve, and started pulling off her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse. She couldn't see the blonde's reaction behind her, but Fleur's eyebrows shot up as she watched the lawyer slowly undress. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortably warm as she watched Hermione pull off her shoes and pants, staring at the pole with determination. Fleur took the opportunity to greedily observe the woman before her, clad in white lingerie against her olive skin. Her slight curves were well-proportioned, and she obviously took care of her body considering her toned legs and arms. The blonde thought the fact that Hermione did not see herself as beautiful was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
With a deep breath, Hermione took another running jump at the blasted pole, hooking a leg around it this time as she found more grip with her exposed skin.
She wasn't lying about the clothes, she thought to herself as she continued to spin, now trying to hook her harm on the pole so she could free both her legs, just as Fleur had done. As her momentum slowed, Hermione landed on the ground again to face the blonde. While her mouth was not agape, her eyes burned with a deep intensity that was not lost on the lawyer. She had never had someone look at her like that before.
"Erm, sorry. I just don't like not being able to do something," she explained, feeling slightly awkward by her actions now.
Fleur cleared her throat, trying to collect herself a little. "Non, don't apologise. That was perfect, 'Ermione. Very sexy," she added.
Hermione blushed, and moved to pick up her clothes. She had to admit it there was something about being scantily clad and throwing yourself a pole that does wonders for one's self confidence.
"You know," she said as she made her way back to Fleur with her clothes in her hands, "It does make you feel pretty powerful to do something like that. I do feel sexy."
Fleur looked at her then, reading the excitement and confidence emanating from the brunette. She was remarkably beautiful, inside and out. She was just thinking about how she could keep Hermione feeling this high when an idea came to her.
"You should keep going then," she said, looking at the lawyer now draped in her open blouse and lingerie. She would be foolish to admit she wanted to see more for purely selfless reasons. There was something wild and uncovered about the brunette she desperately wanted to find.
Hermione met her eyes, trying to read her intentions. Her gaze was no longer guarded from her, and surprisingly all the lawyer felt was desire from the blonde. In no lifetime, universe, or dimension could she have ever predicted that she would be the one strip teasing for a paid escort, but here she was walking towards Fleur and moving to straddle her lap. She began rolling her hips towards the blond, noticing her jaw drop a little as she grabbed her hips, encouraging her to keep going.
Hermione moved to the music playing, growing hotter with each small gasp that came from the blonde beneath her. Undoubtably Fleur was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen and eliciting this reaction from her was intoxicating as she slowly pulled off her blouse and turned around in her lap so her back was now to Fleur.
"Oh, mon dieu," she heard the Frenchwoman mutter behind her, and she continued to roll her hips, leaning back against her chest and grabbing her hair from behind. She could hear her ragged breaths in her ear now, and Hermione thought she might be in heaven listening to her react to the things she was doing.
Fleur couldn't believe what was happening. She was by no means inexperienced, but this feeling was beyond anything she could even fathom to understand. Hermione was grinding into her with such passion and promise she thought they might have been making love. Aren't I supposed to be doing this? she vaguely registered but found she did not mind the role reversal in the slightest. In fact, she thought this could be a fantasy she didn't know she had. She needed to touch her, show her, give something back.
"'Ermione, I need to touch you," she said desperately, and thankfully Hermione grabbed her hands and placed them on her flat stomach, encouraging her without breaking in her gyrations. Fleur's eyes rolled back in her head, now able to feel her muscles at work against her. She pulled her hips further into her, trying to relieve some of the ache building up between her legs.
Hermione could feel Fleur's desperation. God, she was just as desperate herself. But she wanted to be in control and draw this out. She grabbed Fleur's hands again and guided them slowly up to her breasts, letting her squeeze and feel her before getting up off her lap.
Fleur whimpered at the loss of contact, but Hermione was already unclasping her bra in front of her and turning back around. Fleur's eyes widened at the stunning figure in front of her. How could this woman not be confident? Hermione moved to pull Fleur off the couch. She was standing against the brunette, unsteady on her feet and entirely too conscious of the wetness between her legs. Hermione was suddenly on her knees before her and beginning to undo the strap on her stiletto. She pulled off both shoes and looked up at her as she rose to stand in front of her again. She slowly turned around and put her hands to Fleur's dress zipper. She dropped it an inch, waiting for any objection before slowly revealing the expanse of her back. She had seen this before already, she knew, but this was so much different. She could feel Fleur responding beneath her, urging her to keep going. The dressed dropped to the floor and Fleur stepped out of it before turning back to meet Hermione's eyes.
There was no nervousness or inadequacy now in the lawyer's expression. She was filled with a dark hunger seeing Fleur now before her. The two women clashed together with a collective groan at the feeling of their skin finally meeting so intimately. They kissed feverishly, biting at sucking at one another before Hermione pulled away.
"Fleur," she said, gasping as the blonde simply moved her mouth to her neck while she tried to talk. "Fleur, I—oh, god, fuck," she moaned, as she had just pulled her hair and bit down on a sensitive spot on her neck.
"Fleur," she said, pushing against her so she could look at her, "I just need you to know you don't have to do this if you don't want to." She struggled to get the words out because she was panting so hard, but Fleur's expression softened, and she cupped her face gently.
"'Ermione, I know maybe you don't believe me, but I have never wanted anyone more than I want you right now."
She leaned in to kiss her softly now, and Hermione believed her. You couldn't lie into a kiss like that. Fleur deepened the kiss, pulling Hermione's hair again and she pushed her tongue into the brunette's wanting mouth. And that was all it took. The lawyer pushed her hips backwards against the couch, desperate to get closer to her now.
Hermione slowly guided Fleur's head down on the large sofa, and climbed on top of her again, relishing in the feeling of pressing her body against her. She slipped her leg in between the blonde's and they both moaned at the pressure. The lawyer's hand started roaming, first slipping into the soft blonde hair before moving to cup her breasts.
Fleur groaned against her, annoyed that her bra was still on. She moved to unclasp it behind her back, and Hermione visibly shuddered when they reconnected against one another. They rocked against one another, kissing and nipping at the skin exposed.
"I want to touch you. Is that okay?" she asked, looking into dilated ocean eyes already knowing the answer.
"Please, please…" she whispered back, and the brunette needed no more confirmation. She gripped one of Fleur's hips tightly as she rolled into her again, kissing her neck before moving to her breasts. She took one of the blonde's rosy nipples in her mouth and lightly flicked her tongue against the small peak, causing Fleur to gasp and wind her hands in her curly hair. She briefly did the same to the other side before continuing her journey down the blonde's flat stomach, placing a soft kiss on one hip, and then a gently bite to the other. Fleur was now pulling her hair so tightly, but she found she liked it as she moved to kiss around the outline of her underwear. She hooked her hands in her underwear and gently looked up again at Fleur to see nothing less than barely contained need for her to continue. She slowly pulled down her lacy panties, tracing her hand down her legs as they slid down. She nipped and sucked lightly at her thighs and began tracing her tongue around the sensitive skin now exposed.
Fleur was writhing in anticipation. Hermione was teasing her painstakingly slow with her tongue and teeth that she thought she might combust with need. She felt she was on her last tether before she started demanding things of the lawyer before she felt a strong tongue slide against the length of her sex.
"Fuuuuuuuckkk," the blonde groaned at the feeling as the brunette now took turns alternating between circling her throbbing clit and gently sucking her lips to break up her momentum. Hermione's hands were still roaming over her body, sometimes making patterns over her erect nipples and sometimes gripping her fingertips into her thighs and hips. It had only been a few minutes of her talented ministrations and Fleur could feel a familiar fire starting to build deep in her core. Just as her legs started twitching Hermione pulled her mouth away from her, resulting in an angry growl coming from herself that she couldn't care less about at that moment.
Never before had she been so aroused. She felt like Hermione knew her body as well as she knew her own, although they had just met. The seduction, the teasing, and god, the ability to tighten her strings just until she felt like she would snap before loosening up again. It was unlike any encounter she had ever had, and it was going to be the death of her, surely. The brunette moved languidly back up her body, still kissing and nipping, but with a little more bite now, likely leaving marks along her skin. She liked it, and her hips were now rolling on their own accord trying to release the pressure the lawyer had expertly build up. Hermione had now reached her neck with her talented mouth, causing her to shudder under her tongue as she felt a jolt of electricity course through her at the sensation. The brunette rolled to one side slightly so she could double her efforts with a free hand, and Fleur was just about losing it again when she felt the brunette pull back.
She groaned, looking into the golden eyes that had obviously been watching her intently.
"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she said, as she slowly reached down with her soft fingers between her lips, torturing her more with an infuriatingly deliberate pace around her swollen clit.
Fleur moaned unabashedly, still watching Hermione as she watched her wind her up again.
"Fleur," she said.
"Yes, 'Ermione," Fleur panted, as the pressure built steadily again.
"Promise me something?"
"Anything, s'il te plaît," she begged, her thighs starting to twitch.
"I want you to go on a date with me," she said, as she deftly slid two fingers into the blonde, keeping her thumb on her clit and not once breaking her pace as she curled her fingers slightly.
"Oh, fuck yessss!" Fleur screamed, throwing her head back and grabbing the brunette's hair. She twitched and writhed as the most intense orgasm spilled over into every muscle fibre. Her eyes rolled back in her head as Hermione continued her pace, ensuring every ounce of pleasure was extracted from her. Fleur felt her body come back to Earth as the brunette gently kissed along her body where she had left little bite marks.
Moments—or maybe minutes—she wasn't sure, Hermione felt hands pulling her weakly. She understood and went to kiss the panting blonde. Their tongues danced briefly as she felt Fleur sigh and pull her back.
"That was…" she started, but seemed unable to continue, shaking her head. Hermione felt hands start to wander down her back, and she knew what was starting as the blonde's desire was reignited. She had other plans though. This was her party, after all.
She stopped Fleur's hands and sit up, looking at the puddle of flesh and sin looking at her with a lidded expression.
"Not here. I want you to return the favour, but I really do want to take you on a date. This was all I wanted."
Fleur sat up, still a little shaky as she cupped the lawyer's face in her hands.
"Are you sure? It wouldn't be work, I hope you know that," she said softly, looking to the honey-coloured eyes to try and read what was happening. She had never been pleasured before without having to return the favour—in work, and in her own personal relationships. Perhaps she had always felt it was her duty to reciprocate.
"I'm sure, Fleur. I really can't explain it. I just liked seducing you, I guess. Seeing you fall apart at my hands. That's all I want…. for now," she finished with a wink.
Fleur giggled, and moved to get closer to her, resting her head on her shoulder.
"I would love to go out with you, 'Ermione. Not only are you wildly sexy, but I enjoy your company."
"Me too, Fleur. You make me feel so confident, and not just in the sack," the lawyer said, causing the blonde to giggle again.
As their final hour drew to a close, the two cuddled and finished the bottle of wine they had started. Hermione offered to make sure Fleur got home, but she waved her off, ensuring she had a secure ride. After they exchanged numbers and kissed one another heatedly goodnight, Hermione floated back downstairs to find her coworkers at a table near the biggest stage. In their state of drunkenness, it was a hard-fought battle getting them to coordinate an exit strategy, but eventually they all made their way to the door. Dave knew he was drunk as he stumbled along past the now empty tables, but even in his stupor he swore he saw his only female co-worker looking at the woman spinning around on stage with a look that said, "I could do that," and a distinct bounce in her step. Must have been a good night all around, he thought.