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Dancer

By: satinkitty



He was incredible on the dance floor, and I zeroed in on him immediately despite the throngs of people thrashing in time to the music. Some girls like muscle-covered men who look like they just came from a bodybuilding contest, others like their men neat and sophisticated, or even the laid-back bachelor look. Not me. I've always had my wettest dreams about smooth-faced, lithe men, the "poets" or the "musician" stereotype, with their pretty eyes and soft hands and long, soft hair. 

Think Keanu Reeves, Tom Cruise, Ryan Phillipe.....those were the men that got my blood pumping. My dancing boy was all that and then some: long black hair pulled back in a neat ponytail that trailed down his back, full lips, black t-shirt and black leather pants that could have been painted on his tight, lean body. The sight of him sent a tingle of heat through my body, and I set my glass down on the bar and hopped down off my seat. The song was about to end; I had to go claim him for the next dance. I pushed my way through the crowd, making my way to the section of the floor where he was at. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned my way, bringing his dance to a finish as the DJ took a quick break. 

"I want the next dance," I announced, giving him no chance of refusal. The girl in his arms glared at me, then broke away and headed off the floor. Poor thing, probably thought she had a chance at coming home with this gorgeous one tonight. I had news for her; I was going to fight tooth and nail to be the one leaving on his arm. My pleasure at her pain must have shown on my face, for I caught him watching me with a slight grin on his face. The DJ took to the booth again, and the music started up once more. I felt his arms go around me, and we fell into a natural rhythm. 

Sometimes good club music is almost like good sex, it sets you writhing, grinding, twisting, sweating into another's arms. His eyes held me as we moved, the most beautiful eyes on a man I'd ever seen, crystal blue and pure as spring water. The beat was primal and so was our moves, his hands on my lower back, one knee between my slightly parted legs, hips grinding in time to the pounding speakers. My hands fisted into his sweat-drenched t-shirt, my stomach brushing against the fly of his leather pants. I could feel the erection growing under his clothing, and it set a chain heat through my body. His head dropped forward, and I could feel his breath hot against my neck. It set my nipples erect, brushing against his chest as we moved. I moved my hands around his neck, pushing my body harder into him, his lips brushing my earlobe. His tongue came out once, tasting the sweat-and-perfume mixture on my neck in one bold lick. I moaned and dipped my hips, grinding playfully against his thigh. "Are you wet?" He asked me, the whisper sending goosebumps up my skin. 

"Why don't you find out?" I whispered back. I was only teasing him, baiting him along.....but he took it literally and I felt one hand slide from my lower back to my hip, then up my dress. We were hidden among a sea of dancing couples, so no one knew just how hot of a turn things were taking. I felt his fingers trace the damp satin of my thong, then slip past, touching lightly the pouting lips of my sex. I shuddered when I felt two fingers slide in me, testing my damp pussy with obvious skill. I stared up into his eyes, those eyes that burned into mine as he withdrew his fingers, then plunged them back in. 

I groaned, and felt his hand withdrawl, bringing it up between our bodies and between our faces. He put his fingers, slick with my juices against my lips and I could smell my arousal on them. Opening my mouth, I took them in and sucked them clean, tasting the salty wetness and caressing his fingertips with my teeth and tongue. He removed his fingers and refilled my mouth with his tongue, and we shared a long and lusty kiss. We were grinding in earnest now, practically fucking on the dance floor, and he broke the kiss to lick again at my ear and neck. I couldn't take much more of this "dance" of ours, it was intoxicating foreplay, but I needed release and I could feel he did too, the way his cock was pressing against me. "What's your name?" I asked him throatily.

"Gavin," he replied. 

"Gavin," I repeated softly. "Gavin, I want you. Now. Take me out of this place, somewhere we can be alone." 

"My apartment is two blocks away," he suggested. "Let's go." We pushed our way through the crowd of people, making our way to the door to the club. The girl who had been Gavin's dance partner before me gaped at us. I couldn't resist giving her a sweet smile as we passed her. The night air was brisk and cool as he led the way, and I was riding high on my passion. His apartment was on the second floor of a beautiful old complex, and he led me down an alley and up the fire escape ladder to the back door of his place. We were on each other as soon as the door slammed behind us. His hands came under my ass, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He pressed me back against the door we'd just come through, and I cried out when I felt his mouth on my mouth. 

"I can smell you," he groaned against my lips. "I can feel your heat." I cupped his face in my palms, then threading my fingers in his hair and pulling it free of the ponytail. It cascaded around his shoulders, flowing freely now down to his lower back. "Not like this, I want to see you," he begged. He set me down and led me to his bedroom. Once there, I set about undressing him. I tugged the T-shirt free of his pants, pulling it up and over his head, and tossing it on the floor. His hands came down, stopping mine, and he told me to undress myself while he finished. I kicked off my heels eagerly, and grabbed the hem of my little black dress and pulled it off in one fluid moment. I glanced over and found him naked, standing beside and watching me. 

"Don't stop," he urged, and I made more of a show out of it, standing there in my bra, thong, garter belt and thigh-highs. I reached around and unhooked my black bra, letting it slide away slowly and watching the pupils dilate in hunger. I knew what he was looking at; I was no model, but I was quite attractive. My large breasts hung full on my chest, the rose-pink nipples already hardened. I smoothed my hands down to my garter belt, but Gavin stopped me. 

"Leave those on," he ordered, drinking in the sight of my full hips and the way the smoky stockings flattered my legs. He was a marvel to me; his body pale-skinned and tightly muscled, chest and face hairless, hips lean and a beautiful ass. The dark hair spilling over his white skin was an incredible sight, but not as incredible as the beautiful cock that rose up hard and proud from his groin. It was normal in length, but was thicker than most, and jutted proudly from a nest of pubic hair the same raven-black as his hair. "My god, Gavin," I muttered in appreciation and fell to my knees before him. 

Taking that thick organ in my palm, I ran my tongue over the head, tasting the juices already coating its crown. I cupped his ass, my fingernails digging into the flesh as I sank my mouth down, deep-throating its length. He groaned and twisted his fingers in my blonde hair, pulling my head up the shaft, then back down to engulf it again. I caressed his thighs, his balls, his ass while I used my considerable skill at pleasing him with my lips and tongue. He pulled free of my lips, and tugged me to my feet, lying me back on his bed. My eyes fixed on his head as he brought his lips to my left breast, teasing the already-hard bud of my nipple, biting and sucking me into a frenzy. He spent equal time with both of my breasts, until my breath was coming fast and I was dying to feel him move lower. 

He didn't disappoint me, raining kisses down my stomach towards my thong. Looking up at me, he gave me a smile that melted me while he fingered the black thong teasingly. His blue eyes dark, he ripped the scrap of cloth with one jerk, exposing my pink sex to his will as I cried out. When he lowered his tongue to my shaved pussy, I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of the wetness tracing my outer lips. He found my clit, already a small hard pearl, and flicked light licks over it until I was bucking my hips up with every one, sobbing aloud. He covered my clit with his lips and sucked hard, and I felt my orgasm growing close.

"Please, Gavin," I pleaded. "Please, I need you now." He rolled me to my stomach, and I crawled to my knees, spreading my thighs for him. His body came up mine covering me, then I felt his mouth working my neck as the head of his cock probed my slit. And then he was sliding in me fully, and I felt his hips flush against my buttocks. I was crying his name over and over, and he was fucking me in a slow, unhurried manner. He licked and sucked my neck, which was one of my biggest turn-on areas, and I felt the heat boiling up in me. 

"Oh, god," I sobbed. "Gavin, don't stop....you're going to make me come...." He quickened his pace for me, and one hand snaked around to my front to lightly finger my clit until I was at the edge. As the pleasure slammed me, overtaking me, I felt him bite my neck hard, which sent me headlong into another orgasm before I even finished my first. It was like a thousand pleasurable explosions were going off in me, and I dimly felt him still sucking on my neck, and felt his hardness pumping me faster and more purposefully. When he came, he grabbed my hips and held me on his cock, so I could feel his hot spurts of fluid filling my pussy. We collapsed to the bed, exhausted, spent, happy.

When I woke up, it was nearly four a.m. and Gavin was still sleeping soundly beside me. I admired his naked beauty for a long moment, remembering all the pleasure he'd brought me. I left my name and my number on his bedside table, giggling quietly when I realized I'd never even told him my name. As an afterthought I dropped the ripped thong panties on top of the letter, to remind him of our escapade. Then I slipped my dress over my head, and left my dancing boy's apartment. Daydreaming on the taxi ride home, I hoped it wouldn't be long before Gavin called me again. We'd dance again, but this time it would be in my apartment, and I'd have a lot more "moves" to teach him.

Dancer



Theresa had been dancing all day in the studio, her body exhausted, she lay poised on the ground stretching, following a piece she had practiced.

She only wore a leotard and her ballet shoes, her hair caught up above her head in a hair tie, sweat dripping from her slender cheeks.

Georgio waited in the doorway, watching her stretch, feeling a rising within his body for her. Her form was perfect, he had watched for a while now while she had performed her last piece and she had no idea yet that he was there.

Her hazel eyes were now closed while she stretched and she looked relaxed and lovely, almost looking at perfect harmony with her surroundings.

Georgio chose now as the time to approach, stepping from the door.

Theresa looked up a little confused to see Georgio, she had seen him only sparingly around the studio, he was part of the management for this large building within the city. He was cute but Theresa had not often thought about him in any sexual sense. But she suddenly saw a fire in his eyes as he approached that brought about a sensation within her.

Georgio put a finger to his lips to motion for her silence.

"Theresa you are beauty and perfection, I only wish to become one with your passion and love for dance. Don't be afraid..."

Georgio removed his finger and pressed a fiery kiss to Theresa's thin sumptuous red lips. Theresa was filled with shock and tried to pull away at first, utterly confused with what was happening. But she felt a knowing in Georgio's kiss that settled her quite quickly.

She relaxed in his now cradling arms and returned his kiss. Georgio worked quickly from this relaxation removing the shoulder straps of Theresa's leotard. Theresa's hand flung up knocking his hand out of the way, but not with any conviction and she returned his kiss now with more fire and Georgio replied with his tongue, coaxing her tongue to play back.

Intertwining now, Georgio slipped the leotard from Theresa's shoulders and she felt a thrill round through her entire body. What was she thinking? She was barely 19 and she had very little experience with boys aside from her one ex lover and she barely knew Georgio. But there was something about his demeanor, caring and passionate for her, she couldn't fight it. 

Her hands moved almost involuntarily to remove his collared shirt, brushing his facial hair and skimming his rugged dirty hairdo. He had a very rough look about him, a tough touch to the skin, but such softness to his actions. She let her hands trail down his toned torso and unbuckle his pants. His cock, only contained with underwear now, sprung from his pants. 

Georgio had now revealed Theresa's breasts and was needing the small tips of her nipples to the tune of resounding pleasured moans. Suddenly Georgio broke the kiss and grabbed the sides of the leotard. He bent to lower the garment further and Theresa tugged them to her legs stepping out. She revealed all of her body for Georgio to devour with his eyes. 

Her body was just as he had imagined in the dim light of the dance studio overlooking the dense city. A vision of perfection and soothing innocence. He stood and admired not touching her for a moment and they locked eyes, it was back on. 

Theresa now jumping into Georgio's arms with grace as she did when dancing. Georgio caught her around his waste taking in her kiss as he did. He wanted her now more than ever. Removing his underwear with one hand he moved them to the mirror wall of the studio and pressed his lover to the glass. 

They were now without clothing and stood poised to connect, Georgio lowered Theresa's tight love onto his cock, both were glistening with excitement by this point. Theresa bit into Georgio's neck when his girth slid into her opening and she uttered an excited moan as she did so. Georgio then slid the rest of his cock in and sighed. That moment was what Georgio had dreamed of for a year during his obsession with Theresa. He wanted to know her body and feel her love. 

He set Theresa solidly against the wall and cradled her around his body, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist and proceeded to thrust wildly in and out of her now unbridled shouts of pleasure. She screamed his name over and over pleading for more and Georgio answered. He would give her all he had and more, Theresa was his angel. 

The time was coming and he knew. He let Theresa slip from his cock and stand on the floor turning her torso so she was facing the mirror wall to view their contact as she finished. Then he was thrusting and gripping her from behind as he entered her vagina over and over and over, she shouted and yelped with moans for more. He thrusted harder and harder feeling the waves of pleasure envelope him. Theresa's shouts were coming to a peak and Georgio felt his cock mounting with orgasmic pressure. Theresa shouted once more and collapsing back into Georgio's arms, drenched in his sweat as well as her own. Georgio felt his juices shoot into Theresa, warm and contented he slid out and cradled his lover. 

"You are my angel Theresa" he whispered as they embraced. She replied with only a soft kiss to his lips as she she turned and they exchanged a knowing look. 



Dancer



The D.J. broke through the cheers of the crowd and the house music "A round of applause gentlemen for the Sexy Satin!" The audience was hardly exclusively male, many a lady were present and equally captivated by the performer. A roar followed. Just the curvaceous silhouette of the dancer was visible for a moment before disappearing behind the heavy curtain.

Barely clad waitress made their way through the dim club, negotiating with patrons for drink orders and other services available by various members of the staff. The room was, if anything, loud. Between the music and the howls, one could hardly find piece of mind to think. In truth he didn't come here to think, he came for her.

From his shadow he patiently waited. Reflecting silently upon how this was the third night in a row he found his way here. For some one who believes in fate it was no accident he ended up in this place. The first night it was just to meet a client who turned up as a no show and caught just a glimpse of her. The rest of the evening and the next day the same image of her face looking back over her bare shoulder played and replayed again and again.

On the second night as the debate ensued to whether he should go back and seek out this woman. He found himself sitting at a table, directly opposite center the stage. With his back to the wall, just beyond the glow of the neon, in the shades, sipping mineral water with a twist of lemon. During her act, enthralled by her moves, time had no place. Eye contact was made, and again and yet again. At the end of her set she lingered for a final exchange of looks and then was gone.

Pulling himself to the present as the waitress brought another drink. Easing back in his seat and waited.

"Here's a lady that means business! Put your hands together and welcome …RAYNE!!!"

The spotlight burst to life hitting her at the back of the stage. Standing in a dark blue power suit with skirt, black stockings and high heels. Hair up in a bun, wire rim glasses surrounding dazzling eyes that peered down a neatly folded Wall Street Journal. Her only other prop, an attaché in her other hand. 

A silence came over the crowd as the speaker erupted with 'Shook Me All Night Long'. Step after step walking past the two brass poles to the very edge of the stage. Her movement of grace and nonchalance. As if taken notice of the audience for the first time, a flick of her wrist and the newspaper fluttered down. And so the first roar took place.

Turning around, grabbing the pole, swirling once before flinging the case to the rear. Her head snapping back when she kicked incredibly high, the spike of her heel threatening to stab the ceiling. Foot slamming to the stage, one after the other. Stopping in the middle, looking over her shoulder to someone in the crowd. Pulling her glasses off and teasingly using the leg to trace her lips before pearly whites bite playfully. An underhanded toss to her admirers would have gone unnoticed except that the hand that caught them had blood red fingernails, easily seen in Raynes' spotlight.

Intrigued by this woman who vied for Raynes' attention, he found himself unsurprisingly aroused.

Taking hold of the other pole with one hand, the other releasing her hair from the bun. As she circles, a wild mane breaks free, that bounces and rides the shoulders.

One sleeve fell and then the next. The blazer found it's way to the growing pile. Grasping the brass with both hands, pulling herself up and inverting, heels once more to the sky, legs in a death grip as open palms reached out.

Righting herself, she loosened her tie, while tugging free her shirttails. Seductively she angled her body, painstakingly slow she, using only her thumb and index, the other fingers fanned out, drew down the zipper of her skirt. With a collective gasp and hush, it fell, ending up as a halo around her ankles.

Another high kick and the garment went sailing through the air. Open hands covered her bosom, cupping roughly, squeezing and pulling. Howls and cries as the mob began to frenzy. Fingers curling at the material, letting the heat rise. A fluid ripping back motion as the dress shirts breakaway buttons let fly. Losing the ruined button down, but not before twirling it a few times around over her, did she let it loose to the masses now chanting her name. Caressing her bountiful blessings, thumbs rubbing the already pert nipples. Dropping down to her knees while again taking notice to the crowd.

On all fours, she now stalked like a big cat, eyes fixed on her prey. Nearing with every breath, driving the mob wild with anticipation. An outstretched arm with wanton open hand flashed out, and long fingers curled around Raynes', still hanging, tie. Reeling her in, head angling as they approached. She up on the balls over her feet, barely reaching. Rayne leaning over the edge of the platform, her plummet seeming almost imminent. Each reaching to the others cheek for support, but more likely just for the sensation of the touch. Their lips part as they barely make contact, deeply kissing. Tongues passing hungrily over one an others. He found himself longing like every other man in there. They continued, with their every fiery exchange, teetering. 

The music now coming to and end, they both pulled back and she peers into the shadowy corner and winks while licking her lips. A final caress of the lady's' cheek before gathering herself up and sauntering to the curtain.

Customary at this point she paused; her eyes darted back and forth to what she knew and what she did not. 

The D.J.s' words as well as the music were washed away with the reaction of the group. In the manner of moments as the waitress appeared at the table so did the words "go backstage" He made he way as if in a dream, passing under the watchful eyes of the monstrous bouncers. Treading down a surprisingly quiet hallway.

From the opposite way he saw the lady striding to the same place. At the doorway they sized one an other up. 

She in black boots and tight blue jeans, and a small tank top revealing her ample curves. Her eyes fell upon him the same way they did for their common need. Full lips already moist and pursed.

He dressed in a similar casual manner. Khakis, now a bit too snug after watching the ladies performance. He was glad that she too an interesting the bulge. Crisp white button down, with a few already undone. Soft brown hiking boots and a mid length leather jacket the same shade. 

Standing, both feeling a stir and more so when the door opened. And there was Rayne. Wearing only and impossibly short silk robe with a paisley print. Taking the two by the hands and leading them in. 

Securing the door to insure their privacy, she perused the two over. The one, who braved the edge, closed to Rayne and seized her in a lovers embrace. Raynes' hands cupped the Edges face as lips again parted; the soft darting and caresses of their tantalizing tongues ensued once more. Shedding his coat, he found his excitement for the two of them had grown.

Coming up from behind the Edge, pressing himself to the tight demin bottom, while long fingers spread wide grasped the silk covered curve, discovering Raynes lack of panties. Moans soon filled the air.

Nuzzling the Edges ear as she tenderly suckled Raynes lower lip, the robe falling open and slipping to the floor.

The Shadow easily lifting Edges top up and off, much to the delight to Rayne who quickly begins to lick and nurse the budding nipples that have grown hard. Looking over her shoulder to the Shadow, engaging in their own first kiss. Her hand reaching back to his excitement, as he starts to unbutton her jeans.

For a moment they turn to each other, bodies pressed, shaking with want, burning with fire, licking and tasting. Tenderly sucking her bosom eagerly, as she rolls her head back gasping with pleasure. Moving further down her body, dropping to his knees, biting and kissing a trail, tip of tongue tracing away. Gripping the jeans and slowly peeling them down, leaving the cotton panties clinging to her most cherished. She took hold of his shoulders to steady herself as she stepped out of the pants. Gently he placed his hand underneath her, feeling the excitement that dampened the delicate lingerie. At her gasp and shutter at his touch, he felt compelled to continue. The thumb circling, feeling the heat, riding the contours. The whimpers that escaped her and the tightening of her grasp, her nails raking his skin, drove him on with stroke after stoke. Pulling him in, arching her loins up to him, fueling his fire.

When he ripped the cloth to open side suddenly, a cry of " YES!" came forth. Eyes wide now on top of his head, moving so vigorously, twisting and turning. She feels his fingers aiding in the same endeavors of his darting tongue. His moans muddled with her own quick panting. His strong grip on her barely clad bottom, as he delves deeper into her sweet softness, tightens.

Looking up only to witness Rayne, who has taken the position of audience for a change. Watching the delicate fingers coated in liquid silk slipping over and in the pink folds of her essence. It was enough to bring the Edge over. Again and again the spasms ran through the very core. The Shadow held firmly as the thrusting hips bucked wildly. Wave after wave washing over, as he pivoted his head. 

Slowly and weakly, she shaking form lowered to her own knees. Heavy breathing becoming manageable, half closed eyes and wicked look of satisfaction was the visage beheld by the others in the room. With unsteady hand she grasped the back of his neck, reeling him in. Licking broadly over his lips taking in her own taste, enjoying the sounds of Rayne's whines as she did.

Enjoyable as it was to play the part of voyeur, Rayne was more than eager to participate. Sliding off the couch to find herself along the Edges side. 

The Shadow, true to his name, sat on the sofa, off to the darkened corner. With elbows on his knees, leaning over, once again the spectator. Delighting in the two beauties taking pleasure in each other as well as giving. Noting their separate lovemaking styles. In utter awe, he looks on to how one climbs on top of the other, each facing the opposite way. The edge on her back and Rayne's bottom vaulted up at him.

Mesmerized by the display, he is quickly brought back by the throbbing in his now tightened trousers. As they lick and lap, plunging so pleasingly into the others most intimates, he stands. Never taking his eyes from them, he shed his pants. 

The movement catches the Edges eye, though it was clear that her mind was occupied elsewhere. When the zipper was lowered and his hardness pushed the silk boxers that were there, taunt he blushed at the widening of her eyes.

The moans and gasps from the pair grew louder, nails raked and clawed, fingers explored and played.

Stripping himself of his last garment, he, now bare as they, joined them on the thick soft-carpeted floor. Kneeling behind Rayne, taking hold of her hip, with one hand, his other on his own arousal. The sight of her head bobbing and dipping up and down between the Edges thighs caused another throb, and the head swelled even further. His intention so clear to the Edge that she reaches up and first strokes the tenderness that sways so closely to his manhood, rolling them him her palm, coddling them, all the while her tongue dances in Rayne's fires. Darting and devouring her, continuing to glide up and down his length, she guides him in closer and closer, till he can feel her heavy hot breath on him.

Using both hand on Rayne's' hips to steady himself .She steers, aligning him, saturating the hood of his head, playing and teasing the parting lips.

Aching to be with her, he shifts his hips and presses forward. Snapping his head back in shear bliss, marveling at the dual sensations, the driving deeply of Rayne's core, her walls so tightly gripping him, and the texture of the Edges tongue broadly sweeping the underside of his shaft.

Rayne's' cry, more of a yelp, moves the Shadow sharply forward, till he could go no further. A chill running up his spine as he feels the unexpected suckling of the tenderness beneath him.

The vibrations from the Edges moan travel through his loins to the heart of the dancers essence. Ripple after ripple, each as captivating as the last, trailing to the very end of each nerve. Releasing the supple sack from her mouth with a loud audible 'Pop'

Carefully, she wriggled out from beneath Rayne. Once clear, leaned back and sat before the two. Resting on her hands Rayne lowered herself even further while angling her bottom up to his pleasure. Letting the animal in him take over, he drew out only to glide back in. A steady rhythm started, with a strong pace, with hands on her hips he pulled her on to his engorged excitement even as he propelled forward harder and harder. Bodies dripping with excitement and sweat. The sounds of shrieks barely muffled by the crash of their union.

A machine of passion, piston like in their motion, relentless, almost endless.

The two parts acting and becoming as one. Every nerve and sense a live and on end, waiting. Tensions between the pair, wondering which would hold out longer. He doubled his effort with the turn of his hips on each thrust and retraction.

The Edge gazed in astonishment at the scene she faced and unwittingly mimicked the actions by her own means. If Rayne's' eyes weren't faced down to at the carpet and wincing with teethed gritted, she might have beheld the exhibition. As it were, the Shadow did glimpse and found himself even more motivated then earlier.

Slipping his hands off her hips to her bosom as they were jutting with every impact. Curling over and around the pleasing mounds, pulling her back and up at the same time, so that she like he were kneeling together. The action triggering a pleasure he sought for her. Her gasp was soundless, her grip covered his own and held him fast and upon the final drive in, she was catapulted beyond.

As her hair whipped around and the trembling form reared and rode him frantically, he held his place, enchanted and beguiled. He didn't even note the movement of the Edge forward and now in position in front of them. It was only when he felt her hand slip once again over his backside, and the muted yowls of Rayne, did he realize that she had joined with the two of them again.

The free hand soon found its' way to where the they were coupled and tenderly massaged the outer edging of her essence, occasionally stroking the length of the junction. As hands continued to touch and feel, he slowly extracted himself, only to take a more prone position.

The lovelies wickedly turned their eyes to him. Whispering ideas quietly to each other accompanied by a giggle here and there. In no time they were both straddling him, The Edge riding his still hardness and Rayne poised over his mouth. The Trio bobbing and churning. While one pumped down with incredible vigor the other stayed still as he worked a frenzy into her, drinking and lapping away. Each played off the others motions and moans .The Edge contracting her walls, hugging the thickness with a friction that seared. He hooked his hands around the back of Rayne's thighs hoisting himself up and even deeper. The ladies taking their turns to lavish the others bosom with long caresses and gently suckling.

A moan, closer to a grunt came from the Shadow. He uttered that his time was near and the two squealed. Climbing off, Rayne knelt beside her partner in carnal delight as she continued to glide with the same manner before, eyes intently fixed as the Edges took him in time and again, and wondered if that's how it looked when it was she in the same position. She wanted to reach out and touch the two of them, touch them as they were one, touched them as she was touched a few minutes before.

His cries became louder, almost pleading. The Edge looked to Rayne, whispering "help me" As She nodded, the Edge rose off of him letting his arousal stand free and throbbing, engulfed in a moment by Rayne. A second later she was joined by her collaborator. With their tongues lapping, a hand pumping they continued. The felt him throb and the swelling went as far as they thought it could. His hands grasped out to them, his breath sharp and heated. Finally crying out, to their astonishment how the eruption took place. They together worked the length as gob after gob of the milky hotness spewed forth .The waves followed as they stroked and grinned wickedly again at each other, celebrating with a soft deep kiss. The two, as one, crawled up to meet him, once more, bodies pressed in a pile of satisfaction.

After gathering their strength, they quietly cleaned up and got dressed. The smiles covered their faces and would for quite sometime to come. Each expressed an interest to when they could see each other again but they all seemed to return to the fact that fate would see to it, and for now it was enough.



Dancer



Let me tell you about the sexiest girl I never saw.

I was working as a freelance videomaker, and one day I got a call from my friend Kate, asking a favor. She was the Stage Manager for a struggling Theater Company and they had a show coming up which needed some video scenes shot and edited in a hurry. The pay wasn't great but the last favor I'd done for Kate had been rewarded with dinner and a very memorable night at her place afterwards, so I went along.

Kate was as gorgeous as ever, but was clearly stressed, running about frantically trying to collect last minute props. She greeted me with a peck on the lips and a warm "Thanks for doing this", showed me into the studio and was gone. I set up my kit.

The images were pretty straightforward, and I soon recorded a clock ticking and a smoldering cigarette. I set up the lights for the last image - Kate had described it on the phone as "a dancer, silhouetted in a strip joint. We don't see anything but she's to look sexy and mysterious."

As I set up the lights on a backcloth Kate rattled through the studio. "Thanks Jack, it'll not be long - the bloody dancer's only dropped out - but I've rung a friend who'll do it - she'll be here in a moment."

"It's cool Kate. It's all good for my portfolio, and you're a friend. Happy to help."

She smiled and drew closer to me. "I'll buy you dinner again later huh? Just like last time." she said, running a finger down the front of my shirt.

"Last time was great - I'll look forward to it."

She smiled again and kissed me quickly, then was gone.

I focused the last light, killed the studio's working lights and checked the shot on the camera screen. Kate bustled back in, a shadowy figure in tow. "Jack this is Cassie, she's my friend who's agreed kindly to fill in for the dancer shot. I've got to go now - the lead actor's throwing a wobbly about something and needs a slapping. I'll leave you guys to it." And she was gone.

"Hi Cassie" I said, waving in the dim light cast from the camera screen.

"Hey Jack, Kate said you just need me to dance for a few minutes, right?" She had a warm voice and sounded relaxed and amused at the situation.

"That's right. Thanks for coming in so quickly."

"No problem. Kate said you were drafted at short notice yourself." She walked towards the light " Do I stand here?" she asked as she reached the backcloth.

I caught a glimpse of her. Slim, long blonde hair tied back, nice figure. She was holding her hand up in front of her eyes against the glare of the lights so I couldn't really see her face.

"Come downstage from the light - the shot's to be in silhouette."

"Oh, I see." she said and walked forwards out of the light. I checked the camera, which showed a perfect silhouette of her curvy body against the lit cloth at the back.

"Perfect" I muttered, then said aloud "I've got a click track on a loop, but we're not taking sound, it's just to give you a beat."

"Hit it." she replied, so I found the CD player and hit Play. I turned back to Cassie to give her more directions but she was already moving. As the intro to "Son of a Preacher Man" filled the studio she had started to rock her hips back and forth, and I just watched entranced as she began to move to the music. She was hot.

"You recording?" she asked, still moving, the amusement rich in her voice.

"Ah, sure, yes." I lied, fumbling to set the camera rolling. The tape wound up and on the display ‘Rec’ blinked beside Cassie's lithely moving body. "Now." I grinned. I swear I heard her chuckle as she raised her arms high above her, then let them slide back down over her body.

"How's it look?" she asked, spinning round and weaving her hips back and forth.

"Good," I said, "…only would you mind tucking in your shirt? It's kind of baggy..."

"...and it's meant to be a strip joint, right? No problem."

She didn't stop dancing but her hands went to the neck of her shirt and made their way down. I only realized what she was doing when she shrugged off the shirt and let it fall to one side of her.

"What the hell," she said, the smile still warm in her voice, "…it's dark, right?" She slipped off her shoes, then unbuttoned and shimmied out of her jeans, kicking them across the studio floor, dancing all the while. She reached up and pulled her hands through her long hair, and it fell loose about her shoulders. She whipped her head back and forth a couple of times and the long strands followed.

Even in silhouette you could see the tone of her long legs and her firm, flat stomach as she turned sideways. Her arms were long and slender and drew your eye all over her body as she danced, running her fingers down over her chest. Her breasts were full and firm and only when she turned sideways could you see the line of her bra.

"Good?" she asked.

"Great!" I said, awestruck and aroused.

I sat back in my chair as she danced. Some days I really love my job.

A few minutes later I reluctantly said: "That should do it Cassie."

She didn't stop, but said "Can I have a look?" and before I could reply she stepped forward out of the camera view and sat down behind the lens - right beside me. I leant forwards to rewind the tape, catching glimpses of her pale skin in the reflected light from the view screen. I found the timecode for the point where she'd stripped to her underwear and hit play.

Cassie watched with a professional eye, unselfconsciously letting her bare leg lean against mine. My eyes wandered from the screen, along her firm legs and flat stomach, up to the soft mounds visible over the top of her bra. I almost gasped when she put her hand on my knee.

"Look" she said, pointing to the screen. "You can see… there… that I'm not naked..." she leaned close and whispered into my ear. "Let's do one more."

She stood and walked back into the frame, as I hastily wound the tape forward and began recording again.

"Tape running..." I said, looking up and trailing off. She was shimmying down her panties and as she kicked them across the floor I saw the soft fuzz of her bush silhouetted between those long legs. She reached up and behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it aside and running her hands over her exposed breasts. Even in silhouette she was clearly naked. The dark buds of her nipples stood out against the light as she angled herself sideways and began to dance again. I felt my erection press furiously against my pants as she weaved her body around, her hands leading my eyes up her legs and over her chest then up into the air above her. As she lifted her arms up and spun round her lovely breasts rose high. She lowered her arms, running her fingers through her hair, down over her breasts, her flat stomach, to the hair between her legs, all the while she kept her body swaying and turning to the beat.

"So how am I doing?" she asked in a breathy purr after a few minutes.

"You're amazing..." I stammered, as she snaked her body from side to side, hands tracing patterns down her thighs.

"Thank you" she said, her voice rich with her smile, "you're pretty amazing yourself - this setup looks great, and I feel really relaxed, free to do... anything." She walked forwards towards me, leaned her naked body against me, and her mouth found mine.

Her lips were warm and soft, and her breath came in gentle gasps as her tongue darted into my mouth. Her hands ran down my shirt and over the bulge in my pants. As the kiss deepened she unbuckled my belt and opened my zip, yanking my pants down over my hips and letting my cock spring free into the warm studio air. She broke the kiss and I saw her smile caught in the pale light from the camera screen as she knelt down in front of me.

Her hands found my cock and stroked the length, then I saw her head lower down, and felt her tongue dart briefly out and lick the top of my shaft. Slowly she slid her mouth down onto me and I gasped with pleasure as my stiff cock was enveloped by the warmth of her mouth. I reached my hands out to her bare shoulders, realizing she was still swaying her hips as she sucked me to the music. She worked her head up and down the length of my cock and I reached round underneath to stroke her breasts, hanging below her, firm and soft, the nipples hard buds in my palm. The joy of sroking her perfect tits coupled with the sweet pressure of her mouth on me felt so good. I felt myself grow harder and harder in her mouth, little shudders running through my cock.

As Cassie slid her lips deliciously up and down my cock she ran her hands up to the buttons of my shirt, deftly opening it and running her fingers through the light hair on my chest. She rose up, leaving my cock with a last lick of her tongue, and kissed her way up my body to my mouth. My hands slid from her breasts down and around to her slender waist and rested on her hips as she lifted her long legs to either side of my waist, straddling me.

"The trouble with dancing..." she gasped, between kissing me and rotating her hips, even still, to the music (I felt the tip of my cock nudge her bush, find moistness there) "...is that it makes me so... damn... horny..." and she slid herself down onto me, my rock hard cock sliding deep inside her.

Cassie gasped with delight and threw back her head. I leaned forward, thrusting my hips as my cock slid into her. My mouth found her breast. I kissed and licked at the firm flesh and lapped at her hard nipple, teasing it with my tongue.

"Harder" she groaned, sliding herself up and down my shaft. I bit gently, then harder on her nipple, then kissed my way across to her other breast, running one hand up and over the firm smooth surface, teasing the nipple with my fingers then nipping it between my teeth. Cassie shuddered, sending ripples of pleasure all down my cock. Her hands reached back and braced against my legs, allowing me full access to her glorious tits with my hands and mouth, as she lifted herself up and slid back down my cock. I ran a hand down her body and found the gap between us, sliding my finger into her bush, pressing it against her clit as she thrust herself onto my engorged cock. Cassie moaned with pleasure and thrust harder, bringing her hands round to grab my head and lifting my face up to meet her mouth and tongue.

I reached round her smooth skin and ran my hands over her tight ass, and up to hold her by the waist, pulling her down onto me. I felt shudders run through her whole body as she rode me, and I could feel my own climax building as she pressed her breasts against my naked chest and rocked harder and harder, still incredibly keeping the beat of the music.

Our mouths locked together as she thrust herself down onto my cock one last time and her climax burst through her. The sweet pressure tipped me over the edge and my cock pumped and pumped into her. Cassie collapsed on top of me, her mouth sliding off mine as she gasped for air. We lay there for a while, panting, then slowly Cassie rose off me, kissed me sweetly and stepped back to gather her clothes. I re-ajdusted mine and stopped the music. Cassie walked back over to me in the darkness, pulling on her shirt and leant up to my ear and said: "Nice dancing with you". Then she was gone.

I sat there exhausted for a few minutes, then sat forward to rewind the tape. This was one clip I'd enjoy editing. Light flooded into the place and Kate came in looking a lot happier. "Cassie says she had a great time." she said, sitting next to me and scanning her notepad. I just looked across at her, the material of her t-shirt stretched sweetly by her pert breasts and the tiny lumps of her nipples visible through the flimsy material. I was still incredibly turned on, and hoped she'd make good on her promise for the night ahead. She glanced at me, and smiled at my appreciative look. "So," she said, "Did you get everything you needed?"

The End.



Dancer



Oh how she loved to dance, dancing was the only way she knew how to get rid of the stress from the week. When she danced it was like all her responsibilities vanished and all that was left was the music and her. She could feel the thumping of the base line in her chest; it was like her heart was driving the music. She always went to the same club. Everybody knew her there. As soon as she walked up to the bar cute mike the bar tender would put a drink down in from of her, an apple martini. She was a creature of habit and never drank anything else. Tonight she was late leaving work so when she walked up to the bar one hour later than usual mike asked "why so late tonight shaye?" 

"The boss kept me late going over this weeks reports. I don't know why he insists on calling me into his office 30 minutes before I leave and then keeps he there almost 45 minutes after my finish time. Its like he knows that I want to leave on time so he deliberately calls a meeting at the last minute" She grumbled as she gulped down the drink mike had just passed her. She ordered another drink as gulped it down too. "Hey take it easy with that" he said as she drained the glass. "You shouldn't drink so fast" Shaye could see the concern in mike's eyes "Thanks mike, I now, I'm just frustrated" she smiled at him " maybe I'll go dance of my anger" she said and walked off towards the dance floor. 

She danced hard that night, dancing for an hour or more before going back to see mike at the bar but she didn't stay long. She drank her cocktails quickly and was back out there her body moving to the music. Mike watched her all night. Shaye had been coming here to dance for a long time but mike had never really noticed her, until tonight. Tonight she seemed different, but also the same. 

He watched her skin glisten under the dance floor lights. The fabric of her dress flowing and brushing over her skin as she danced and danced. She looked sexier than he had ever seen her before. Tonight she was no longer just another regular customer, she was an object of desire. He became jealous of every man who danced with her. Tonight for the first time he wished he could get out from behind the bar and dance with her. But he couldn't. 

As the night went on he grew more and more excited every time she came to him her another drink but also more and more exasperated when she went back to dance some more. By the end of the night he was feeling as bad as she had when she arrived. Why had she gotten to him tonight? Why was tonight so different from all the other nights she had come in. He had no idea and it was maddening him. 

It was now right on closing time and as mike stacked glasses he saw that shaye was leaving. All of a sudden something changed in him and he knew he had to leave too. He untied his apron, threw it at the other barman and said, "I've got to go, cover for me," as he jumped over the bar and walked out the door only a minute or so after shaye. 

The cold night air hit her body and she shivered. She realised that her skin was damp from perspiration. 'Wow, I must have really danced hard tonight' she thought as she turned the corner and headed for the taxi rank. She was just passing a small ally when someone suddenly came up behind her and grabbed her, dragging her into the ally and pressing her body up against the wire fence at the other end. She knew she should scream but as the large hands grabbed her wrists and pushed her arms above her head she realised that she knew these hands. They felt familiar to her somehow but she didn't know whom they belonged to. It was dark in the ally and she couldn't turn her head enough to see whom it was who held her arms above her head, both wrists clasped together in one hand while the other roamed her body. Running over her breasts, down across her belly and then down her thighs. Stopping at the hem of her dress and slowly lifting it up. 

He only lifted it up enough to edge a finger into her underwear and start to wriggle its way to her clit. She gasped as he found the spot. Circling his index finger around her sensitive nub she relaxed her legs a little and moaned. The length of his body was pressed against hers and she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed into her buttocks as the evidence of her own arousal began to soak the fingers working their magic on her. 

Mike was almost in shock, he hadn't planned on grabbing her like that but as he turned the corner as saw her something animal in him snapped and he had to have her. She hadn't made a sound when he grabbed her, which should have surprised him but he wasn't thinking clearly. But no he realised why she hadn't screamed, she wanted this, she was just as turned on as he was. She pushed herself back against his body grinding into him as he massaged her clit, he decided to test his theory and release her hands which he war still holding tight. She didn't move, she didn't struggle, instead she grabs onto the fence, curling her fingers through the wire. 

His other hand now free he slid it down her arms to caress her breasts, her nipples are hard and he pinches then through her dress. They seem to harden even more at his touch. He circles one nipple with his fingers, matching his movements with his other hand, which is still tucked into her underwear. But he doesn't stay this way for long. The hand on her breast moves to his pants and he quickly releases his throbbing erection before taking both his hands and lifting her dress up over her hips. He nudges his cock between her legs as his hand pushes them apart. Sliding her underwear off he lets them drop and she willingly steps out of them, leaving her legs spread for him as she does so. 

With one swift movement he is inside her, thrusting himself into her wet dripping pussy. She moans holding on tight to the fence as he fucks her hard from behind. Each thrust matching her heartbeat, just like the music on the dance floor. Their bodies move together his penetrating hers over and over. He feels her body become tense as she begins to climax, her pussy contracting around his cock triggers his own orgasm. He thrusts deep and hard into her hand moans a low growl into her hair. 

It is over, his passion quenched; he withdraws himself slowly, not letting her turn around, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps away from her. As she pulls down her dress and bends to pick up her underwear he turns and walks away. When he reaches the end of the ally he hears her call out....."See you next weekend mike." and he smiles.



Dancer



"So yuh heard about this girl her name is Maxine Her beauty's like a bunch of rose An' if I ever tell you bout Maxine You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote Murder she wrote Murder she wrote (Na nana)  Murder she wrote . . . "

With Chaka Demus blaring from the speakers the walls seemed to dance with a vibration all their own. The heavy base line was hypnotic and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dimness in the club.

When I saw her pole dancing I had to stop and stare. I mean, the woman was absolutely spectacular. Dark skinned - the color of freshly roasted Jamaican coffee beans - long jet black hair (hers, not some wig), full breasts, tapered waist, curvaceous hips and an ass to die for! That woman had some serious junk-in-the-trunk. She was the real deal and she knew it. So what was she doing in this dump? 

Machele and I met before they ever renovated "The West" and even that's gone now. It was just a tiny neighborhood bar back then, but it was one of the best places I knew. The Wild West had the friendliest and prettiest bartenders in the city and never overcharged or watered down their drinks. The head barmaid, Ingela, was from Sweden. Eventually she went online and was featured in a documentary about the adult industry held at the JavittsCenter. I loved Ingela just the way she was but she saw herself differently. Her breasts were never big enough. Bullshit. They were perfect. After the first augmentation she proudly displayed them when I walked in the door: 

"J'ordy! Look!" (Her accent was definitely Swedish)

Up came her top. (Cheers and whistles from the other patrons) 

"Aren't the girls purr-fect?" she said, laughing and waiting for my reaction.

Purr-fect? Maybe that's where her "Dream Kittens" concept came from. 

"Yes Ingela, they're beautiful, but they were beautiful before." 

No sooner had she healed then she went back under the knife. The next time I saw Ingela, her breasts were humongous.

All I could think about was how, in the future, she'd have back problems and would need to go for a reduction. But it was not my back and not my problem. Anyway I wasn't really interested in Ingela or "the girls". I was only interested in Shelly. 

Initially I was just a "mark". "Marks" are prey. The object of the game is simple. Make the "mark" think that you're interested in him -- no - I mean really interested. Like you want to go home with him - or at least check out the short stay rates at motel. Get him to tip you lavishly while you're onstage and buy you drinks when you're offstage. Play him against other guys so that there's a bidding war going on. Keep his attention. Get him drunk and empty his wallet. When the wallet's empty, move on - but only after you let him know that you can't wait for him to come back - with a full wallet. So that's how it was initially - I was a "mark". 

Shelly knew she'd caught my eye as soon as I walked into the bar. She smiled and the place lit up like sunshine through an open window. She knew a good thing when she saw one - I was one of the only "suits" in the joint. It meant that I had money in my pocket and that I wouldn't try to grope her when she approached me for drinks. Funny thing was, as soon as we started talking, she was the one in trouble. Game plan shot to shit. I was actually nice. Well spoken. Attentive without being pushy. Generous with the tips but not stupid. And I listened. What's the old saying? "God gave you one mouth and two ears so maybe you're supposed to listen twice as much as you speak." I was a good listener. Suddenly she's talking to me about real stuff. Her family, her life, where she came from - the whole nine yards. Not quite ready to give me a phone number but happy to accept one. Letting me know when she'd be back and what other clubs she worked. 

"Will I see you again, Jordan?" 

Yes Machele. Yes you will. 

We'd been drinking together for several hours. We both liked our vodka on the rocks with lime. It was one of those days when drinking with me was preferable to getting on stage. The place wasn't empty but the patrons were less than desirable - mostly Hispanic laborers from the local factories, Dominicans and Puerto Ricans. Dirty hands and dirty mouths. Always looking to "cop a feel" and not willing to tip. 

"Let me see jor poo-say bee-tch! Jeu wan my moe-nay den I wan to see jor poo-say!" they'd say in a loud drunken slur. 

Shelly needed money too, but not from them. 

"I could really use your help Jordy," she said in hushed tones. "I'm just not making ends meet." 

"Let me think on it, OK?" I wanted to make sure that it was me talking, not the liquor. 

"I'm going to be at that club I told you about in the Bronx on Friday. I don't have to work that late. Maybe we could hang out afterward?" 

By that time I had her phone number. 

"OK. I'll call you to confirm." 

The place in the Bronx, on the Westchester border was, to say the very least, interesting. It was actually two clubs side by side. On the one side was a regular topless bar and the other was an all-nude club without alcohol. The dancers would work alternate shifts on both sides of the club. The bouncer would stamp your hand so you could patronize both without additional cover charges. It was the first time I'd seen Shelly completely naked. I wanted - no - I needed more, and she knew it. Smart gal. It pays to advertise! 

It was after 2:00 AM when we checked into the Lincoln Motel, a typical hot pillow joint. Sure did get a lot of stares though when I checked us in at the front desk as Mr. & Mrs. So what if this young chestnut-skinned beauty was with this older white dude! Shelly and I acted more like a married couple than my ex and I did. There was already an easy familiarity about us, as if we'd been together for a very long time. Cool. Very cool. But it was molten lava by the time we got into the motel room. 

Ever see beads of condensation running down the glass on a sweet chocolate milkshake? That's what it looked like when she stepped out of the shower. All she had on was the towel wrapped around her hair. She moved across the room with the deliberateness of a panther stalking her prey. Seated on the couch I looked up as she straddled me. I licked the droplets off her breasts, holding the nipples in my mouth. Dark round buttons that stiffened and swelled on the tip of my tongue. She pulled my head back and kissed me hard - open mouthed - thrusting her tongue deep - searching me - reaching between my legs for my already hard cock and sliding it into her shower-wet cunt. I started to protest but she put her hand over my mouth: 

"I'm just giving you a taste, lover!" 

She produced a condom, waving it before my eyes. She tore the wrapper with her teeth and popped the rubber into her mouth. Slowly, inch by inch, teasing me out of her pussy she stood then knelt between my legs and put the jimmy on with her tongue. 

"See? All safe now big boy. But it sure felt better without it!" 

Shelly pushed me back on the couch, sliding me back inside her almost in the same motion and then fucking me into oblivion. 

Somehow we'd made it from the couch to the bed and I awoke with her fast asleep in my arms. God she felt good. I felt her soft warm breath on my chest - the gentle beating of her heart - the heat of her womanhood pressed against my leg. I remember thinking how natural, how right that moment seemed. 

Shelly's eyes opened and I saw fire. I kissed her sweet lips, then the supple curve of her neck, running my tongue down into the fragrant valley of her cleavage, then up the sides of her breasts, taking her vermilion nipples into my hungry mouth. She moaned as I ran my tongue down her belly into her navel and again as I continued toward the obsidian- hued portal of pleasure. I ran my hands underneath her ass lifting her to my waiting lips. I pushed my tongue into her wetness, probing deeply. Shelly's head thrashed from side to side as her moans grew in intensity. Up and down, side to side, in and out, again and again I plunged my tongue into her honey pot, tasting the sweet nectar of her inner recesses. I probed every inch from her clit to her ass and back. I ran my hands from her ass cheeks to her soft inner thighs running my thumbs up her sopping wet slit. I gently opened her auburn lips and flicked my tongue rapidly on the engorged clit. She spent copiously then reached down pulling my head from her delicious delta and licked every drop of her juices from my face. 

Reaching down I stroked the head of my swollen cock between her slick lips - her hips thrusting up to capture me. Every nerve ending in my dick was ablaze as I felt myself slide into her. The woman seemed possessed. She pounded her pelvis into mine, not simply matching me stroke for stroke but demanding more - so much more! She pushed me up and rolled me onto my back. Suddenly I felt her grab my dick with both hands as she swiftly moved her mouth to replace her pussy. 

She swirled her tongue around the head of my cock while pumping and rotating her hands up and down the shaft. As she moved her hands further down I watched amazed as inch by inch of my manhood disappeared down her throat. Shelly swung her legs over my face and I tongued her like a hound dog lapping water after a 10K run. I placed my thumbs on either side of her hidden treasure, gently opening it so that the tip of my tongue could flick rapidly on her hot button. I lifted her off and reversed my position. Shelly "cow-girled" me, guiding the head of my prick into her waiting hole. This time she was totally in charge. 

She began circling my rod with her slick velvety cunt, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes slow and deliberate, the head of my cock emerging momentarily only to be plunged mercifully back into the warm wet darkness. Shelly had her hands on my chest, her fingers running through the thick dark-reddish hair. She grabbed fistfuls of my fur, pulling and tugging, using it like the reins on a galloping stallion. I felt the tightening - the tingling in my balls so I reached around, grabbed her ass and pulled her hard onto my throbbing pole. Shelly must have felt me swelling inside because her whole body began to shudder. I felt her suddenly suck in hard as her body stiffened. She began pumping my dick furiously. I could feel the walls of her pussy contracting as she slammed herself into me over and over. 

We exploded at the exact same instant, a beastlike growl emerging from some recess deep inside me as I spewed the contents of my sack into her innermost hidden realm. It felt as though I was a fountain, pumping into her as our juices splashed together, finally gushing from her pussy down our entwined legs. With a deep gasp she threw her arms around my neck pulling me to her as I felt the after shocks begin - grunts of satisfaction rolling from our lips like celestial music. 

*

Part 2

Fast forward several years. Ups and downs. Frustrations. Arguments. Missed events, lost moments, misread signals, several separations, sometimes lasting for months - still there's nothing like "make-up" sex. 

We were still feeling each other out after a prolonged absence. Seated in a restaurant - not one of our usual haunts - a couple of vodkas before dinner. Soft jazz played in the background, barely discernable over the buzz of the conversations around us. I knew Shelly had something on her mind, I just didn't know what direction it was going to take. Right before coffee she excused herself to the ladies room. Sliding back into the seat on her return, she reached across the table, handing me something she'd balled up in her fist. Silken lace - still warm and faintly moist. She gestured for me to inhale its fragrance. 

"Think I still want you, you big jerk?" She leaned across the table displaying her ample cleavage and smiled wickedly. 

I slipped her panties into my pocket, and felt their effect instantly. 

"How the hell am I supposed to walk out of this restaurant with a pup tent in my pants?" I asked. She just laughed. 

As we drove back to her place she held my hand - not unusual in and of itself, but it was a conciliatory gesture, an, "I don't want to fight with you anymore," kind of thing. More than she'd given me emotionally for some time. Something had changed. 

I always loved walking behind her when climbing stairs because the view was spectacular - even better this time because her panties were in my pocket. And she knew I was watching, the showoff. It was no holds barred, nothing held back, balls to the wall sex. We were in perfect synch that night. When we were "done", lying there in her canopy bed drenched in sweat, she spoke: 

"Jordy, feel my heart." 

I placed my hand in the valley between those perfect breasts. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. 

"Do you have any idea what you do to me? You can't fake that you know. Do you love me Jordy? Do you?" There was a pleading in her voice that I'd never heard before. 

"I love you Jordan. I didn't want to but I do!" 

"That's OK Shelly, I understand, I'm very lovable." 

Tried to make it a joke but it simply wasn't funny. I rolled over just in time to see the tears. 

"I'm sorry baby," I whispered gathering her in my arms, "I've missed you, too, and yes - I do love you." 

Like I said - there's nothing like make-up sex, but something had definitely changed. 

Our relationship was entering uncharted waters.

"I have plans for us for Friday night, so you're going to have to make it. And plan on staying late." Shelly said bluntly. 

It was a cross between "matter-of-fact" and "you'll do this if you know what's good for you". Shelly smiled like a Cheshire Cat. 

"Dress up or dress down?" I queried. 

"Up. You need to pick me up about five-thirty - six the latest. We're going to hit traffic." 

Friday night - late summer. The days were getting shorter but the nights were still warm and comfortable. Shelly was wearing a crimson gown that blessed every curve. Probably spent hours in the salon. Hair coiffed. Makeup impeccable. She always looked good, but this was something else. 

"Head toward the city, she said emphatically, "Go down the west side." 

Traffic was awful. I saw she was visibly upset. 

"Don't worry baby," I said trying my best to calm her, "wherever we're going, we'll make it!" 

"Oh Jordan - you don't understand. They'll leave without us if we're late." 

"Who?" 

"Never mind. Just drive!" 

When we got around midtown she finally relaxed. 

"Turn into the parking lot over there." she pointed. 

"No way, baby! Dinner cruise around Manhattan?" 

"I got the tickets weeks ago. Are you surprised?" 

"Surprised doesn't cover it, sweetheart. Thank you! What's the occasion?" 

"The occasion, my love, is US! We don't need an occasion." 

Planned spontaneity? Shelly's whole attitude had changed. Little gifts - calls in the middle of the day. It was a side of her I'd never seen before. 

I saw envy in the eyes of other men, flashes of anger from black couples. Machele saw it too and stared them down. "Don't fuck with me or my man!" That look said it all. The slow dances were the best. Shelly's crimson-clad figure shimmering in the semi-darkness - the thigh-high slit in her gown playing peek-a-boo with those gorgeous gams. Intoxicating scent - head nestled on my shoulder - little kisses on my neck. Was there anything else I could have asked for? Shelly took my hand guiding me off the dance floor. We walked around the ship until she found a secluded corner. Leaning over, as if to stare out toward the skyline, she shifted her gown so the slit was facing back: 

"Come close and cover me," she whispered. 

She guided my hand into the slit. No panties. I ran my hand over the supple curve of her ass then between her legs. Very hot and very wet. 

"Do me with your fingers - now!" 

It was an order. I checked to see if we were alone. Sliding my fingers along her nether lips, I felt her body stiffen as I gently rubbed the hooded jewel. I plunged several fingers into her waiting pussy. She pumped hard against them until we heard footsteps. I withdrew my hand quickly as she turned, asking me to light her cigarette. The waitress smiled as she squeezed around us in the passageway. Had she seen anything? Did it matter? Shelly took my hand bringing my sticky fingers to my lips.   "Suck them!" she demanded. 

I licked her juices off my fingers. Salty sweet -- her woman scent filled my nostrils. 

"I need you tonight baby," she cooed, "I can't wait until we get back to my place." 

I couldn't wait either. I don't remember running any red lights - but we did make incredible time back to the Bronx. As we sped into the darkness I popped a CD in the stereo. Almost on cue, Joe Cocker's voice filled the car,

"Baby take off your coat Real slow Take off your shoes I'll take off your shoes (now)  Baby take off your dress Yes, yes, yes

You can leave your hat on You can leave your hat on You can leave your hat on!"

END

If you enjoyed this story please take a moment to vote, comment or both! Thanks. 



Dancer



Carly walked over to the window, and gazed out at the night and the glittering lights of the city, leading to the water. Far below her she could see traffic moving in the street in front of the hotel. She sipped her wine, watching and patiently waiting.

The music drifted through the room - she had been happy to find an adapter cable in the nightstand drawer so that she could connect her iPod to the clock radio, and listen to her own favorites. 

She glanced at the clock, wondering when he would return. James had gone out to a strip bar with his friends; she had agreed to his adventure for two reasons. One, the groom to be was his oldest friend, and had invited them to this city for the wedding, and two, James had promised to slip away from the group of raucous men once he'd had his fill of strippers who wouldn't actually suck, fuck, or satisfy him. 

He knew, of course, that she would be here in the hotel room waiting for him. Her simple promises of "I'll make sure you won't regret it" had been enough to convince him to make his own promise. 

She checked her arrangements, surveying the treats that she had received from room service, then repositioning the wine in the ice bucket, adjusting a tealight candle here and there. She made sure that one of the chairs from the dining table in their suite was angled correctly, checking the wall mirror several times. 

She touched up her lipstick, and admired the emerald green satin camisole and thong she was wearing. She knew that he would love the silky feel, the tiny straps on top... and especially the color.

It wasn't long before she heard his key in the door. 

She set her glass down on a side table and moved quickly over to the door. 

He smelled of colonge, a faint trace of cigars, and beer. She smiled, knowing that she had the power to draw him back to the room despite the remarks he'd certainly got from his friends.

She kissed him, without saying a word, simply flickering her tongue between his lips... and then she tugged him over to the chair she'd arranged. 

"Sit. Now." she ordered, pushing him down abruptly into the chair. The ipod, as if on cue, shifted to a song that was suddenly very appropriate for the mood - and a perfect tempo to dance to. 

He tried to stroke her breast, and she slapped his face, just hard enough to let him know that SHE would be dominant for a while, and he was to do as he was told. She quickly tied his wrists together behind the chair, with the sash from her robe. 

And then she danced, straddling him, kissing him but pulling away when he tried to deepen the kiss, running her hands over his chest and down toward his groin.

She opened his shirt, and caressed him while she continued kissing him, including his neck and earlobes in her teasing. 

She turned around and pressed her ass against the bulge in his pants, rubbing and grinding, and slipping her fingers down into the front of her panties, to tease her clit briefly. He could tell by the position of her arm what she was doing, but couldn't see her fingers, and she could tell she was driving him crazy.

She caught sight of his glance in the mirror. Just as she'd planned, he could see her face, but not her hand, down in her panties.

She spun around, and unbuckled his belt, kissing him again. He lifted his hips and she pulled his shorts down to his ankles, making sure her hair grazed against his shaft while she bent over in front of him.

He kicked everything he was wearing out of the way, all the while urging her to ride him cowgirl, but SHE was in charge now. 

Suddenly her mouth was on him, warm and wet, surrounding him, sucking him hard. Just as suddenly, she released him and stood up, as he gasped for air. 

She laughed, and she straddled him again, moving her hips tantalizingly close to his cock, and yet just out of reach. Placing her arms around his neck, she pulled herself close to his upper body, and tormented him with the wetness of her slit for a few brief moments, warm and wet and frustratingly barricaded by the thong. She looked into his eyes, smiling, before standing up and dancing with her back to him again. 

Now she was dancing again, looking over her shoulder at him, inching one strap of the camisole down over that shoulder. She perched once again over his legs, not touching his shaft this time. 

Reaching over to the table, she took a strawberry and swirled it through the cream, and then took a bite, licking the cream off her fingertips and laughing when she noticed how far down on her arm the camisole strap was. 

She stretched her arms over her head, running her fingers through her hair, and then suddenly dropping her hands to remove the camisole in one quick motion. Her large full breasts were so close to him, he could see that the nipples were already stiff. 

She trailed a finger through the whipped cream, and then sucked on her finger. Taking more whipped cream, she swirled it around her nipple, and then raised up her body, grabbing the back of his head to bring his face toward her breast. His tongue eagerly flicked over and around her nipple, as he savored the sweet taste of the whipped cream.

Abruptly she stood again, and turned around, rubbing her bare ass cheeks against his cock again. Then she stood in front of him, and slowly dragged the thong down by the side straps. As she bent over he caught a glimpse of her lips, pink and glistening wet. 

She walked over to the nightstand, and reached inside for something he couldn't see. She walked back to him with the small object concealed in her hand, and straddled him once again. 

Suddenly she moved forward, and he felt her wetness against his cock. Groaning, he shifted his body, and plunged into her. She pushed down on him, her warm pussy walls surrounding him,and then she moved her hips and began to grind against him. She only allowed him a few brief moments inside of her, and then she shifted herself back, away from him, scolding him. 

"Now you have to watch me" she purred. 

She clicked on asmall bullet vibrator, and held it against her clit using her right hand. Her left hand came higher, to cup her full breast and stroke the nipple, pinching and swirling it. 

Her eyes closed and she moaned softly, and tipped her head back, while she held the buzzing toy against herself. Her pussy wasn't actually touching him any longer, but he could feel traces of the moisture on his legs as she writhed in pleasure. 

It took less than a minute of this, and she was climaxing, gasping and shuddering and whispering to him "oh yes,yes..." as her left hand pushed strands of hair away from her face. 

He saw his moment, the brief interval when her guard would be down, and she would obey him. 

"Untie me".

She did, and his hand gently but firmly captured her arm, and pulled her over to the table.

Pushing her forward onto a bare spot, he leaned over her body, kissing the back of her neck and pressing his cock in between her trembling legs. 

One hand came up to loosely grab a handful of her hair, to let her know that he was in control now. The other hand was braced against the table, until he saw the bullet, next to the tray of food, where she had set it after her orgasm. 

He reached down and guided his dick back into her, and then reached for the bullet, still kissing her neck and back, and telling her what a dirty, naughty little slut she was, to tease him like that. 

"I'm going to punish you now" he whispered in her ear, and she shuddered hard. His hand slipped around the front of her body. She was still standing, and her hips were just off the edge of the table, so he could put his hand against her neatly trimmed mound, and he found her clit with the bullet, as he worked up to a steady rhythm of gliding in and out of her. 

"I love the way you fuck me" she groaned, lost in the sensations of him pulling her hair, kissing the nape of her neck, thrusting in and out, and pressing the bullet against her pearl. 

Soon she came again, harder this time. 

He managed to hold his own orgasm off until she had come, and then he joined her, his release so intense after the prolonged teasing, that they both were lightheaed, and could do nothing more than pull each other over to the bed and fall in, laughing, and reaching for the bottle of wine, so that he could let her catch her breath and have a few sips of wine, before they continued their fun.



Dancer



I lose control one cold rainy night in a North Beach, San Francisco club.

*

I don't think I'm especially attractive. I mean, walking down the street, I don't sense that strangers turn their heads and look at me and see a beautiful woman. Of course, the way I dress has something to do with that. When I'm out running errands, I wear my hair in a pony tail pulled through a ball cap (Now that I'm in San Francisco, either a Giants or a 49ers, depending on the season). I usually wear a loose grey or blue sweat shirt, and loose jeans and sneakers or sandals. I rarely wear make-up, perhaps a bit of lipstick and eye shadow, but nothing fancy. So, as I say. I don't usually generate much attention -- I just do my business and move on.

I could attract attention if I wanted to. I mean, I do have a nice body. I have an attractive face, with a nice smile. My tits are 36C, natural, with nice big nipples. (I've thought about getting my nipples pierced but just haven't gotten around to it). I keep in shape by going to the gym three or four times a week, and watching my diet. I'm between boyfriends right now, but the ones I've had have liked the way I look, especially when I dressed in a club outfit, you know, a halter top, a short skirt, no panties, shaved, or at least neatly trimmed bush. So, I know if I dressed the part and acted in a flirty manner I would attract attention.

I don't need attention when I'm running errands because I work at getting attention at my job. I work as a dancer in the sex industry. I occasionally turn a trick or two, but I am not an escort. That just seems a bit too risky for me. Besides, I like the feeling of being in charge when I'm on stage. I pretty much get to call the shots and determine how I interact with the customers. I've learned how to deal with them, to make them feel comfortable, and special. The guys (and the occasional woman) come in for a good time, and to be entertained. I show interest in them, and they reciprocate with money. It's a good deal all around -- they get what they came in for, and I make a decent living.

I got my first taste of topless dancing at spring break in Florida. I went with some sorority sisters from our college in Milwaukee. We had a wild time. The second night we were drinking cocktails at a dance club. I think we were drinking sex on the beach, but they could have been long island iced teas. Whatever they were sure did the trick. We were dancing in the dark, crowded club, and I kept rubbing up against this one guy. I didn't know him but he had a nice athletic body. We got pushed and jostled into a dark corner. He separated from me for a few seconds and then he lifted my skirt a bit and I felt his cock between my legs, rubbing against my wet panties. I leaned over and pulled my panties down, kicked them aside, pushed back on his cock and started to fuck, right there on the dance floor, in time to the hip hop music. Before the end of the night I had fucked two other strangers and sucked one more off, his cum filling my mouth. The next morning, during my shower, I shaved my pussy, something I had been thinking about. I was glad I did because that night some of us danced on the bar in a club and I enjoyed watching the guys looking up my short skirt. Two nights later, more or less on a dare from my sorority sisters, I entered a wet t-shirt contest. I finished third, partly because I stripped nude, showing my newly shaved pussy, and won $50. 

On the plane trip back to Milwaukee all I could think about was how much I enjoyed being topless and then nude and dancing in front of a cheering crowd. I felt like I was in control. I could take my t-shirt off, or not, wear panties, or not, bend over and show my pussy, or not. It was all up to me.

Later that spring semester I tagged along with some guys as they celebrated a friend's twenty first birthday at a topless club in Milwaukee. I got talking with one of the dancers and within a week I was dancing two nights a week at a small club in one of the southern suburbs. I made pretty good money, and dropped out of school at the end of that semester. What could I do with a degree in psychology anyway- I was applying psychology every night I danced.

I've been dancing five or six years now. I'm an independent (no agent) and I move from city to city as the spirit moves me. I started in the mid west (Milwaukee, Chicago), worked my way down south (Tampa, Mobile, New Orleans), then west (Gallup, Phoenix). I've been in California for about a year, the last three months in San Francisco. Clubs are usually looking for dancers, and it's pretty easy to move from club to club.

Whenever I start at a new club, I have to learn what is allowed and what is not. For example, in California, some clubs are completely nude, but only if they don't serve alcohol. If drinks are served, the clubs are topless. Of course, in some topless clubs, a dancer can get completely nude if the manager is comfortable with the local authorities. Lap dances in some clubs are rather chaste affairs, with more dance than lap. In other clubs, the lap dances get more intimate, and the patrons can take their cocks out and even get tit-fucked. So, a dancer starting at a new club has to learn pretty quickly what the local rules are.

When I first came to San Francisco, I worked at a club owned by women, actually a co-operative. It was fun, more of a peep show, with guys standing in booths and feeding money into a slot to raise a curtain so they could see two or three of us dance. Sometimes I went into the fantasy booth, and did dildo shows. Guys would come in and feed a twenty into the slot and I would start to work. If I timed it just right, the curtain came down before I really got into it and the guy would have to put another twenty in to get to the good part. I usually faked orgasms -- you know, the moaning and groaning and writhing you see in porn movies. Sometimes, I actually did have an orgasm -- mine tend to be quiet, but intense, but obvious to the guy watching me. I'm not sure what triggered me to have a real orgasm -- it wasn't an everyday thing, and it didn't seem to depend too much on the guy watching me. After all, he was behind a pane of glass.

I worked there for about three months, and then moved on. Most of the women there were queer, and quite aggressive about it. I don't mind it -- it's just not my thing, and it got kind of tiresome. Besides, I began to notice the best assignments, the late Friday and Saturday shifts, were given to the women most openly queer, and friendly with the management. For the last three months, I've bounced from club to club, some nude, some topless, in the bay area, making enough money to get by, having fun and seeing a few regular customers. 

All of which leads me to the point of this little missive. A few weeks ago, on a cold, damp Sunday, I started working in a club in North Beach. As a new girl, I knew I would get the slow days to start, and this Sunday, about two weeks before Christmas, started really slowly. There were four of us, and we took turns dancing our three songs apiece. For my first three sets there were only three or four people, men, sitting alone, in the room, and they all seem preoccupied with their beers. After my dances I put my top, a red lacy thing that matched my tight boy shorts and strutted around the room, stopping at each customer, but they didn't seem to want company, or a private dance, which is how we make most of our money.

A new customer came in while I was on stage for my fourth set, an older man. I guessed he was about 50, gray hair beginning to show at his temples. He sat right by the stage and looked up at me with a mischievous smirk. I danced over to him, turning my back as I unhooked my bra. I turned and bent over in front of him, letting the bra slide down my arms, showing him my tits. Damn, I thought, my nipples were starting to get perky, and I started to feel the familiar but still faint tingling in my pussy. I danced away and as the third song ended, bent over to pick up the two dollar bills he had laid on the edge of the stage. 

"How are you doing tonight?" I smiled at him, hands on hips, still topless, nipples still perky.

"I'm doing great, never been better," he said, still with his cute little smirk. 

I went down the three stairs of the stage and through the curtain separating the bar area from the tables surrounding the stage. I walked through the bar, still topless, and went into the ladies room and put myself back together. On a hunch, I changed into my black outfit, a g sting and halter top.

"Damn, its quiet tonight. I hope it picks up." Jill was a thirty something dancer, with a body hard from weight lifting. She was on next and was arranging a black lacy top over her silicone-enhanced breasts. She looked great for a mother of two. I had just met her that night but she seemed nice enough.

She left to go on stage as I freshened my lipstick and eyeliner. My nipples were still perky -- what's up with that, I thought as I left to make my rounds of the customers. 

The guy was still sitting at the front of the stage, nursing his beer, watching Jill as she finished the first song of her set. I walked over and tapped him gently on the shoulder. 

"Would you like some company?"

"Sure."

"Want to move to a table?"

"Sure." He got up, put a couple of bucks on the stage for Jill, and grabbed his pint glass. He followed me to the corner of the room. The seating there was sofas backed into the corner, and much more comfortable than the chairs around most of the other tables. We settled in and the waitress came. I hadn't really met her yet, but she was efficient and brought us two pints of draft beer.

"You changed your outfit. I like this better - I've always liked black underwear on a woman."

"I'm glad I changed. I had a feeling you might like the black."

He looked at me with his little smirk, and we started the usual small talk. He told me he was in town for some scientific meeting at the convention center, something having to do with geophysics or something like that. He said he had to get away and unwind as the meeting was pretty intense. He was nice, quiet and sometimes funny. He would watch the other dancers and make up stories about them, with weird and funny story lines. 

He bought me another beer. I told him I had to go dance another set on stage. He said he'd be waiting for me. 

I kept glancing back at the guy as I did my set. My nipples were even perkier, and I was definitely feeling all the signs of being horny. It was still quiet, only five or six customers, and no one seemed to notice but me. 

At the end of my set, I put my top on and walked back to him.

"I have to cruise around and see if anyone wants a dance with me."

"I'll still be here," he said with his smirk.

I strutted around the room but no one seemed interested. I was glad of that and went back to the table. I made it a point to brush him with my left tit as I sat next to him. He gave me that little smirk. 

"It does seem cold in here," he said, as he glanced down at my tits. "You know, I think we should have a private dance." I explained the system to him. He had to pay a cashier in the back, and then we could go into a room with a partially closed curtain, with a table and long low sofa. I told him I could be topless but had to keep my panties on. I wasn't sure how strict or lenient the club was as I had just started and hadn't had a chance to talk to the other girls yet.

He made the arrangements as I stood next to him. My nipples were really hard now, and the tingling in my pussy was getting stronger. Damn, I said to myself, I better be careful. The guy was old, older than my usual clientele, but nice. Oh well, wing it, I thought. What's the worst that can happen?

The private dances are timed by songs -- three songs per trip to the back room, so about 12 minutes. He leaned back and I picked his legs up by his ankles and placed them on the sofa. I straddled him so my crotch was rubbing against his. I could feel his cock beginning to stir. As the first song started, I leaned back and untied my top, letting it slip off my arms. He moved his hands over my body, lightly, starting on my back, caressing my shoulders, moving towards my tits, teasing them, lightly pinching my nipples, damn it felt good. Experienced dancers know how to move their body to control their customers, how to be in charge. I forgot all that as he gently pulled me forward and began to lick, then suck, then lightly bite my nipples. I rubbed against his crotch with more strength and whispered in his ear, that feels good, you've done this before, feeling his cock against my wet pussy, feeling the tingle there get stronger, wishing he could be inside me.

The third song ended. He looked at me with his little smirk. "You know, you're pretty good at this. I bet you could make a living at it."

I laughed, glad at the opportunity to ease the tension. I told him I was due back on stage in a few minutes. Often, guys leave the club right after their private dance. I was happy he said he'd back at the table, watching me.

I went into the dressing room and freshened up. I changed into my green outfit, green boy short, halter top -- my black g-string was wringing wet. Jill came in from her set, looked at me and said "Looks like you had a nice workout, wish I could get so lucky tonight."

I smiled. "Is it that obvious?" We both laughed as she went to make her rounds and I went on stage. 

There were now about 15 people in to room, watching me, but it was still pretty quiet, no yelling, whistling, anything like that. I looked back in the corner and the guy was still there. I saw him smile when I shook my tits in his direction, just before I turned and danced towards the other corner of the stage.

I went directly to his table after I got off the stage. "I have to make my rounds."

"You sound like a doctor. I'll be here when you're done,"

I strutted around the room but only one guy made eye contact with me, and then he said he did not want company. I went to the back corner and sat down, again making it a point to brush my left tit against his arm.

"You changed again. You must bring a lot of outfits. Good thing they don't weigh much."

"I bet you can guess why I had to change."

He smirked. We started to talk, picking up where we left off, our conversation becoming freer as the beer took effect. He slipped his right hand under the table and began to rub, gently and slowly, my legs, working from my outer towards my inner thighs. He asked me if I ever wondered what it would like to be a man, to have a penis (I would have said cock, but he as more formal than me), to make love to a woman. I asked him if he ever wondered what it would be like to be a woman. He said he would wear short skirts and no panties and bend over a lot. I laughed, thinking that was pretty much how I got into the business.

Before long, we were heading for the back room again. My nipples were stiff, and I was already wet as he made the arrangements. I straddled him and took off my top even before the first song started. I could feel him again, his cock hard. I wondered what it felt like, tasted like, how quickly he would cum, how much jism he would make, what that tasted like. He was fondling my tits, sucking, licking, biting, pulling, pushing, squeezing. I was grinding him harder and harder.

I had never cum before while giving a lap dance, but I came before the end of the second song, intensely, a nice orgasm, one I knew I would remember. It was everything I could do to keep from yelling out. I collapsed in his arms as he gently rubbed my back. At the end of the third song he looked at me with his little smirk. "I've got to go. I've got an important committee meeting tomorrow morning," He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I walked him to the door and he gave me that little smirk as he left, turning and hailing a cab in the cold damp night.

I went to change into my last outfit, my white one. Jill came in. "I was in the cubicle next to you. I know you're new here, so I should warn you not to get too carried away. I've seen a few girls fired for being too exuberant."

"Thanks. You're right. I should do a better job of being in control. But it did feel good."

We both laughed as we got ready for the next part of the night.