When I was hired to clean at a local dance studio, I thought my prayers had been answered.

Not that cleaning is my ultimate goal in life, but I needed an after-hours job I could do a few days a week while I attended college. The schedule suited me perfectly as a night owl. A loner to my core, I had no problem working by myself.

In fact, I preferred it.

The studio manager explained the work to me: polish the endless mirrors in the upstairs and downstairs ballrooms. The activity was simple but time-consuming. I could use the stereo if I kept the music low. I could arrive any time I desired, as long as I was finished before the studio opened in the morning. Easy enough.

One night, I went into work well after midnight. I’d been out with friends earlier, and since I had my own key, I wasn’t on anyone else’s schedule. When I arrived at the studio, I sensed something different. The music was already on. Perhaps the staff had left the stereo on by accident, I decided. I headed into the office where the sound system was located. Through the window, I could see into the main studio.

That’s when I saw him.

One of the studio’s instructors.

Although I’d never seen the man dance, I had admired his handsome image in the framed pictures on the walls in the studio lobby. The difference between those pictures and now was that here he was naked. I hesitated, trying to figure out what to do. This well-built man was dancing gloriously to the music, his eyes shut, his body moving rhythmically, hypnotically, sensually. It was an intensely beautiful sight.

I couldn’t help myself. I stared raptly at the way he moved. I was mesmerized. There was something indecent about watching. I felt guilty. Believe me. But I couldn’t stop myself. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. I gasped. What should I do? What should I say? Then I realized he wasn’t looking at me at all. The windows from the office were mirrored on his side, like the rest of the walls in the studio. He couldn’t see me. He was admiring his own naked reflection. I sighed with relief and leaned back — nudging the stereo’s button as I did so that the music turned off abruptly.

Damn.

He grew totally still for a moment, then he casually reached for his pants and slid them on. The garment didn’t do much to hide his exquisite form. These were stretchy black dance pants. His semi-erect cock was clearly outlined beneath the fabric. It was a magnificent organ, one that looked to be as thick as my wrist and a mouth-watering length. I told myself to stop focusing on the dancer’s dick and start figuring out how to explain my presence.

Then I thought — hell. I didn’t have to explain anything. I was hired to clean the place. I had every right to be there. He was dancing naked! If anyone had to explain anything, it ought to be him!

He entered the office, and his eyes swept over me. I could feel him assessing the situation. I was clearly not there to rob the place. I had my glass cleaner, rags and tools. My hair was tied up. I was in holey jeans and an old t-shirt. My reasons for being there were obvious.

“Joseph spread me out on the wooden floor and parted my thighs.”

“I’m Sara,” I managed to squeak. “The cleaner.”

“Hi, Sara the cleaner,” he said, and he smiled at me. “I’m Joseph. The naked dancer.”

So that’s how he was going to take care of that. With honesty and humor. I gave him a few thousand mental points for his cleverness and forthright manner.

“I didn’t think anyone would show up this late,” he continued. “And I have this thing about dancing naked.”

I took a deep breath for courage, and I said, “That’s funny, because I have a thing for cleaning naked.”

“You don’t say?” He winked at me. I felt myself growing a little more adventurous. I took off my t-shirt so that I was standing in my bra and jeans, facing him. Then I shook out my hair and waited to see what he’d do next. “You’re still more dressed than I am,” he noted.

I kicked off my shoes and lost my jeans in a rush. He was staring at me expectantly. This was a now-or-never moment. I unfastened my bra and then pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. Joseph took his dance pants off again, too. Now we were evenly matched — and, it seemed, evenly turned on.

“So you’re going to clean like this?” he asked pointedly, gesturing toward my nude form.

“That seems like a waste,” I said. “With you naked and me naked, we might be able to come up with a sexier activity than cleaning. Don’t you think?”

Joseph took my hand and led me back to the studio. Surrounded by the mirrors, he kissed me for the first time. It was late in the evening — or early in the morning — and I was naked at my job kissing a sexy man. I went for it. I wrapped my arms around his strong body and let my tongue meet his. He embraced me tightly, and I could feel his hard-on pressing against me. Our hunger and urgency were quickly getting the best of us.

There was no bed nearby. No place for us to go.

Joseph spread me out on the hard wooden floor and gently parted my thighs. I could feel how slick and ready I was for him. The foreplay had been watching him dance. The main event was the head of his cock entering me in one seriously sexy thrust.

I groaned and wrapped my legs around his muscular body. He withdrew and then drove forward again, gliding us a little bit along the polished floor. I turned my head and saw our reflection in one of the mirrors. Our movements were magical to me, multiplied as we were by the mirrors on mirrors. We were fucking to infinity, and my pleasure felt as endless as our images seemed.

Joseph let me watch our coupling for a moment before he put one hand under my chin and turned my face back toward his, bringing me back to the present. To our moment. To us. He seemed to want me to stare into his eyes while we made love. I realized I wanted to do that, as well. Our eyes locked, and I felt our connection solidify.

Focused, anchored, I held his gaze as he thrust in deep and then held in place. I was pinned beneath his weight, and I relished the comforting sensation. He swiveled his trim hips, and I cried out as his powerful cock stroked me perfectly. Then he moved the two of us together, so he was on his back and I was astride him. I couldn’t help but smile, enjoying this view from above and the feeling of his slick dick inside me. I rocked on him and then used my thighs to push upward, allowing his cock to slip out of me inch by inch. When only the head was still inside my pussy, I rode him back down. He was the one to sigh and shut his eyes now, clearly basking in the pleasurable sensations flooding through him as my eager pussy enveloped his dick.

I gripped his chin, and he opened his eyes and smiled, understanding.

Locked together, we rocked together, and very quickly brought each other to the cusp.

“I’m going to…” I said, slamming down on him one last time.

“Me, too,” he responded breathlessly, lurching his hips upward to drive himself inside me as deeply as possible.

We came surrounded by our own reflections — came as all those double images of us came, as well. The event was spectacular, and I was grateful to have happened upon Joseph, to have spied him in his element. Even if this was the only time we’d ever fool around, even if this was…

“What else do you like to do naked?” he asked as he pulled me to him in a snug embrace.

I smiled at myself in the mirror. We were going to have endless hours of entertainment. I could tell.

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