Provocation

Roxie pressed the play icon on her phone, which was connected via Bluetooth to the Bose speakers of her audio system. As the naughty beat echoed through the room, she began to rotate her hips. She was wearing a tutu that had a unique twist. The skirt was made of very sheer gauze, and even the underpart was sheer. The bodice was lace, slightly thicker around the bust, but the shape of her nipples was visible.

She launched into a series of jetés, pliés, and pirouettes, ending in a penché—a ballet step where one leg is extended upwards, legs wide open. She purposely faced the laptop camera while in that position so her crotch area, barely veiled by the lacy material of her ballet attire designed to be sensual, was on full display.

She heard applause coming from her laptop. On the screen, she saw her client’s face. He was smiling, clearly enjoying the show. She bowed, gave a demure smile, and started a new routine. It was still ballet, but she added a naughtier flair to the steps. She opened her legs more often and held her leg extensions longer in the air, purposely giving her sole audience a peek at parts of her body she didn’t just show to anyone.

Roxie chose the music she danced to carefully. She picked pieces that went well with her routine and put her in the mood as well—in the mood for sex, because how would she be able to evoke that emotion in her audience if she didn’t feel it herself? Like an actress, she needed to feel the emotion she wanted to convey to the viewer. And so, just like an actress who wants to do a good job, she needed to internalize.

Part of that internalization was imagining a scene that would turn her on. As her body moved, her mind wandered. In her mind, she conjured an image of the person she would want as a sex partner. And then, in her imagination, he was there. Her audience was no longer the man on the computer screen but the man of her fantasies. He was right there in the room, watching, enjoying her performance...

As she lifted her leg in the air for another penché, he was instantly by her side. He caught her upraised leg in his hand, holding it by the ankle, preventing her from putting it down. Slowly, he started caressing her ankle, his hand warm and gentle as it glided against her skin.

Roxie closed her eyes as goosebumps rose from the ticklish sensation brought by the man’s caress, but because her eyes were closed, her sense of balance shifted. She began to stumble. The guy quickly released her leg and caught her in his arms. She fell against his hard chest, imprisoned in his strong arms.

He tilted her face up, looking intently into her eyes. She could see the flicker of desire in his eyes. Still just a flicker. She smiled. One of the things she loved doing was fanning that tiny spark until she saw her partner’s eyes practically burning with lust.

She started writhing against him, pressing her softness into his hard, muscular body. Her breasts were being flattened as she rubbed them against his physique. She slowly ran her hands down his firm muscles until she reached the front of his pants. She felt for his manhood. It seemed dormant, but she felt the weapon beginning to harden.

Roxie pulled her body up and moved away from the man. Once more, she started with her jumps and pirouettes, kicking her legs higher so that he would catch a glimpse of her heavenly portal. For her finale, Roxie draped her leg over the man’s shoulder, placing her jewel almost in his face.

His hands gripped her waist, stopping her from turning. Then, one of his palms moved to her thigh, stroking upward toward the part of her body that had begun to throb with anticipation.

Her breath caught in her throat when he finally reached his destination. His huge hand cupped her pussy, and he started squeezing it gently. Roxie gasped every time his hand tightened there. The lacy material started getting soaked with her wetness. She was sure the man could feel her crotch area rapidly becoming damp.

“You’re getting turned on, aren’t you?” His voice was a raspy whisper.

“Are you sure about that?” Her smile was teasing.

“Let me find out.”

He rubbed her through the gauzy material covering her crotch. His strokes were slow and deliberate as his finger poked at her still-covered slit, sliding over her opening again and again. Roxie bit her lip. With the increasing pressure of the man’s strokes, her nub was being squeezed, becoming more sensitive with every graze of his finger. Roxie wished that he would stop teasing her and finally insert his finger inside her. She was eager to feel a hard object penetrating her.

But no, he just kept stroking her, rubbing his fingers over her clit with increased pressure. Pressure that wasn’t enough for Roxie, as she found herself pushing her womanhood harder against his hand.

“Enough of that. Fuck me. Oh, please,” she moaned.

“Are you sure about that?”

Roxie hesitated, but only for a moment.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she declared firmly.

Only then did he lower her leg from his shoulder. He grabbed the front of her outfit and, with one violent tug, ripped it open. Suddenly, her breasts were bared to him. His eyes seemed to cloud over as he feasted on the beautiful shape of her naked breasts. With a naughty smile on his lips, he reached for those mounds and cupped them with his palms, slowly rotating them against her nipples. It ignited a fire inside her that drenched her opening even more.

Still cupping her round flesh, the man bent down and lifted both mounds closer to his mouth. He caught one rosy tip in his mouth and rolled it around like a marble. Roxie clung to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

After pushing her two breasts together, the man captured her other nipple, taking it into his mouth. He lashed at the two hardened pebbles with his tongue, each flick sending a sizzling heat to her core. Roxie almost writhed from the intense sensation as the man alternately nibbled on her nipples...

“That’s it, baby. Move those hips. Bend over for me.”

The voice from the computer barely penetrated Roxie’s consciousness. But it was enough for her body to obey the command she heard. Rotating her hips, she turned her back to the camera and bent over. That would give her audience an eyeful of her beautifully rounded butt.

“Ohhh, yes, that’s it, baby. Show me your ass. Shake it for me.”

Roxie didn’t need to peek at the man to guess his state. Just by the tone of his voice, she could envision what he was doing. Most likely, he would be sprawled on the couch where he sat. His pants would be down, his member exposed, and he would be playing with himself while watching her.

Her body usually went on autopilot when she started getting into the groove. She was easily carried away by the music, and once the beat entered her system, her imagination could travel freely because she didn’t have to think hard about what she was doing. But she still had enough sense to understand what her client wanted her to do. He wanted her to shake her booty, so she did. She gyrated slowly, seductively, while bent over toward the camera.

“Turn to me now. I want to see your naked pussy, baby.”

That wasn’t part of the agreement, but she often heard that command from those who hired her services. The guys usually just got carried away. But no, she didn’t take off her clothes for them.

Roxie still followed the man’s words. She faced him and opened her thighs again. Only a glimpse of her jewel was what he would get. Once he had his peek, she lowered her leg and began to caress her breasts.

“Yes, baby, touch those breasts. Ooooh, if only I could get my hands on those beauties,” the man groaned. When Roxie glanced at him, she discovered he was completely naked.

Her guess earlier was correct; he was holding his organ and was busy pleasuring himself. His hand moved up and down, gripping his erect weapon.

“Come closer, baby. Press those boobs on the screen.”

She moved as close as possible to the camera until her breasts almost touched it. She saw the man’s hand on the screen, likely imagining he was stroking her lovely mounds.

“Oh, yeeesss, baby, yeeees.” He suddenly pulled away and slumped back onto the couch. Roxie clearly saw the liquid spurt from his manhood. His hand continued moving up and down his shaft until the pleasurable sensation must have subsided. The man leaned back in his seat, limp and exhausted.

“You’re great, as always,” he said, panting. “Until next time.”

“See you soon,” Roxie replied. She threw the man a kiss and then turned off the camera.

She collapsed onto the bed. Damon was a regular customer, so she had memorized his kinks. The guy was good-looking. If she indulged her clients, she would have long ago agreed to his repeated requests for a meet-up. But she didn’t mix business with pleasure. She didn’t even meet her male telephone clients in person. She sometimes did private shows, but under very strict conditions. Strictly dancing, no touching. This clause was stated in the terms and conditions of the online form that potential clients filled out. When she went to a venue for first-time clients, she brought backup. She also trusted her instincts. When something felt off, she wouldn’t push through with the show.

What was she, exactly? Well, she was a private dancer. That’s what Roxie called her job. Some thought it was a form of sex-on-demand service, and in a way, it was true. But the sex she offered existed only in her clients’ fantasies. Her participation was limited to fueling their imagination by dancing for them. She must be doing an impressive job of it because she has many clients. Most were regulars. And their numbers were increasing.

Roxie truly put in the effort. She went to dance classes to keep herself in shape and updated with the latest trends in music and dancing. She was a former member of her school’s dance troupe, and she truly loved dancing. It was her means of escape.

She rubbed her eyes with her hand when she felt them start to heat up. She wouldn’t let her mind drift back to the past again.

She sat up and took off her costume. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she walked over to look at her body. Her breasts weren’t huge, but they were firm and well-rounded. She had a V-line tummy and long, toned thighs and legs. That was the result of her hard work at the gym, as well as her dance classes. She didn’t have the face of a goddess, but her body was the stuff wet dreams were made of. And that body was now longing for someone to bring fire to it.

Because Roxie imagined hot scenes every time she performed, when the show was over, she genuinely felt desire. The desire wouldn’t ebb as easily as it flared up. As Roxie looked at herself, studying the anatomy that drove men crazy, she couldn’t stop herself from touching her body.

Her hand first went to one breast. Hefting it in her hand, she slowly pressed the firm flesh. She closed her eyes at the jolt of electricity it sent through her muscles. She should have kept them closed, but she chose to keep her eyes open. Somehow, seeing in the mirror what she was doing to herself increased the intensity of the sensations it was creating.

Her hand gripped her breast, squeezing the soft flesh. And somehow, in her imagination, she once more saw the figure of that man in her fantasies. He was standing behind her, and it was his hand grasping her breast...

He kissed her on her neck, his tongue dipping into her skin and tracing circles on it, sensitizing them. Gradually, his lips moved down to her nape, her shoulder, and her back.

He pulled her to face him just as his head was level with her chest. As she turned, he captured her nipple in his mouth. It immediately hardened in response to the man's sucking. Roxie threw her head back at the hot pleasure shooting through the part the man’s tongue was toying with. She was moaning now. A moan that grew louder when she felt his leg separate her thighs.

Parting her thighs with his leg, he started gliding his knee up and down her crotch. It hit her nub, pressing against it. Roxie wasn’t satisfied with just that, so she ground her pelvis against his hard knee. He pressed into her while holding her tightly by the waist to pull her closer. He also sucked harder at her nipple...

Roxie’s hand moved faster on her breast. She was pinching its peak now. And then her other hand slid towards her core. She wasn’t surprised to feel how slippery it was. She was so wet; the moisture was seeping down her thighs.

She opened the eyes she hadn’t realized she had closed. Seeing her hand moving between her legs turned her on all the more. She separated her thighs and parted the lips of her sex with her fingers. She saw the wet, glistening entrance, swollen with need. Oh, how she longed to experience what it felt like to be penetrated by a man’s hard length. She had inserted a finger into her passage many times. But she knew it would be an entirely different experience to have a man’s organ pumping in and out of her.

Looking at her reflection, she slid a finger over her slippery knob. She bit her lip at the intensity of the pleasure it brought her. It was doubled because she could see exactly what she was doing. It was such a turn-on to see her finger moving over her clit. The level of pleasure enveloping her rose higher and higher. Her womb felt incredibly tight. She felt the intense clenching that was a sign she was close to the brink.

Roxie slowed the movement of her finger. She didn’t want to explode just yet. Prolonging the stimulation without letting it lead to climax usually led to a stronger, more intense orgasm. Instead of running her finger over her nub, she stroked the edges of her entrance. It still brought pleasure, enough to keep the desire in her womb alive, but not enough to push her over the edge.

She slowly, gently penetrated her core. Her hand moved slowly so she wouldn’t climax. Her index finger moved in and out slowly, buried shallowly in her hot, tight passage.

“Aaaah...” She arched her back. She struggled to control her body, which was eager for the explosion of pleasure.

Still facing the mirror, Roxie backed away until she could sit on the bed. She propped her legs up on the edge. She looked like she was squatting, but instead of her bottom being raised, it was resting on the bed. Because of her regular dance and exercise sessions, she was as flexible as a gymnast. Sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs open on either side of her was easy for her.

In that position, her sex was even more exposed. She saw clearly as she plunged her middle finger into her eager hole and moved it in and out repeatedly. The heat started building up inside her again, and once more, she couldn’t stop the images from forming in her mind. Soon, it was no longer her finger that was plunging in and out of her...

The man was hovering between Roxie’s thighs. Earlier, he had been licking her nub incessantly. Her hips lifted when he sucked it hard. The pressure was intense, but it wasn’t enough to bring her over the top. Desperate to reach the peak, she lifted her body to press her sensitive core harder against him.

The man gave her what she craved. He buried his face deeper into her opening. While sucking her nipple, he inserted his index finger inside her. As his finger slithered in and out of her, his tongue skimmed over her clit, the pressure increasing with every stroke...

Roxie’s mouth was open, gasping in pleasure. She stared at her reflection, watching the rapid entry and exit of her finger. Her arousal was so intense that her finger slid in and out with ease. She was climbing again toward the highest bliss. With every brush of her inner walls against the finger moving back and forth inside her, she felt like she was being swept away by a wave to a place she longed for.

Soon her toes started curling. The muscles in her legs and thighs went rigid from her bracing. When she felt that the peak she was reaching for was so close, she pinched her nub. With a loud cry, she catapulted over the brink. Her core clenched and unclenched, the spasm brought about by her climax.

Like the man who pleasured himself watching her dance, Roxie collapsed onto the bed, weak from the release of the tension accumulated in her womb.

If only the pleasure she felt was enough to satisfy her hunger, maybe she’d stop searching for a man who would make her feel the ultimate pleasure. But as her acquaintances said, it was probably different when she had a male partner, and it wasn't just her hands and fingers moving to please her body.

But that would have to do for now. For now, she had no intention of giving a man permission to take pleasure in her body or to gratify her. Because even if her line of work was considered by some as something almost akin to prostitution, she was determined to be as clean as possible, even if only for her conscience. Because even if she repeatedly told herself that she no longer cared about her family’s opinion, Roxie wanted to maintain her dignity should she ever face them. Even if she didn’t want to, she still heard in her mind what her dad said when he found out how she earned money.

"You just proved to me that you’re good for nothing. No, you’re even worse than that. You are filth. It’s a good thing you don’t live under my roof anymore."

Roxie used a different name to widen the distance between herself and her father, preventing him from accusing her of being a huge embarrassment to the family.

Her real name was Ma. Isabella Cardenas, and almost everyone she knew called her Bella. When her father kicked her out of their house almost three years ago, she started using the name Roxie Lopez. It was her grandmother’s maiden name on her mother’s side. Surely her dad couldn’t throw anything in her face if she widened the gap between herself and their family. She also denied being his daughter when she was unlucky enough to be recognized.

I probably just look like that woman you’re talking about. That was her standard reply.

Roxie got up from the bed to go to the bathroom.

“I am doing what you dared me to do. I am making it on my own.” In her mind, she was saying those words to her dad.

But the means by which she was making it, well, that left a lot to be desired. In fact, it pissed her dad off that she ended up that way. But that was also one reason why Roxie chose to stay in that profession. Somehow, she liked the idea that she was making a living out of something that her dad definitely didn’t approve of. It was payback for the time she did almost everything just to get his approval. Which he never gave her. So she stopped giving a damn. Or so she kept telling herself.

Roxie let out a harsh breath when she discovered her heart was getting heavy again. She turned her back abruptly on her reflection and walked toward the bathroom to shower. Her next appointment wasn’t until the afternoon. She had a lot of time, so she would go for a stroll at the mall first.

“I said, go away!” Along with the shout, Enzo swiped the tray carried by the maid. It flew from the helper’s hand, and its contents—his breakfast—scattered all over the floor. The maid must have been terrified; she didn’t even attempt to clean up the mess. She ran out of the room.

Enzo rubbed his hand over his face once the woman was gone. He hated that he had terrorized someone again. Why was she so hard-headed? He had already said he didn’t want to eat. He had given orders not to be disturbed in his room, not to be visited unless he called for any of the household staff, but she still knocked earlier, pestering him to eat breakfast. He finally snapped at her.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” he exclaimed in frustration when he heard another knock on the door. His blood boiled even more when it opened, even though he hadn’t given the person outside permission to enter.

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand—”

“Shut up or I’ll smack you.”

His rant was cut short when he heard the voice of the arrival—Manang Ising, his grandmother’s majordomo and his nanny when he was a child. Like the maid who was scared of him earlier, she was carrying a tray of food.

“If you try to make this fly, you’ll get what you’re looking for,” she threatened. A threat she would likely make good on.

“I have no appetite, Manang,” Enzo just said, forcing his tone to be gentle. It would surely reach his grandmother if he acted like a spoiled brat in front of her. But that wasn’t the only reason he calmed down. Manang Ising was one of the few people he respected.

“How will you get strong if you never eat anything? Do you not want to walk again?”

“I won’t walk again even if I eat all the food in the world,” he replied.

The woman let out a breath.

“Enzo...” Her tone was admonishing.

"Manang, please, I'm begging you, I just want to be alone,” he declared, his voice low.

“Don’t you get bored being alone?” she said. “Even I, who have people to talk to, sometimes want to go crazy from boredom; what more for you? You don’t leave your room. You don’t face those who visit you. How much longer do you need to be alone?”

For the rest of my life, he thought. If only you people would leave me alone.

Maybe it would be better if he just went back to his townhouse. Why did he let Lola Divina pressure him into living in her house? Why did he allow her guilt trip to influence him, especially when she claimed she couldn’t sleep because she was worried about him?

However, living alone in his condition was also challenging, particularly since he had not yet fully recovered, either physically or emotionally, from the accident he experienced.

Accident? A bitter smile formed on Enzo’s lips. You brought it upon yourself, dude.

“You will get better if you want to. You just have to push yourself.” Thank goodness Manang Ising spoke again. Otherwise, his mind would have been dragged back to the past.

“I’ve tried, Manang. But I really can’t. Maybe there really are things that just have limits,” Enzo answered.

“If that’s the case, then accept the limit you’re referring to and live according to that limit. With what you’re doing...”

Enzo raised his hand. “Please, Manang, I’m full from the sermons Lola gives me. Don’t add to it.”

The majordomo shook her head. She seemed to sense she wouldn’t get anywhere even if she nagged him all day, so she placed the tray on the table near him.

“Eat this. If not, I’ll pinch your thigh, I’m telling you. I’ll also send Flora back here to clean up that mess. Don’t scare her, or else it’s not just a pinch I’ll give you,” she said before leaving the room.

When he was alone once more, Enzo almost wished the old woman would come back, especially when he felt the flood of memories threaten to engulf him once again. Even though he tried to stop it, the scenes he was trying to forget refused to stop playing in his mind, scenes that led him to the wheelchair he was sitting in and seemed unable to escape ever again...