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The band picked up the tempo. I could feel her breasts against my back and the male dancer’s chest
brushing lightly against the front of me. We moved in heady unison around the floor. I felt carried
along, a part of their dance. I was doing it! Soon, the other couples began to recede from the stage
into the dark, and it was just the three of us.
Then, lesson over and timed to a flourish of the guitar, the singer twirled away from me and fell
into the arms of a beautiful blond woman who appeared out of the shadows. Her hair was pulled
tightly back, and she wore a mask and black tuxedo pants. She was taller than the singer, her white
halter highlighting her lean, tanned arms. My male partner pulled me fully to his body, his hand tracing
down my back, over my buttocks, as he pressed his pelvis into me. That had made him hard, and I
could feel him pulsing against my side. As he lifted me off the floor, my legs scissored in the air, and
after a quarter turn, he deposited me in front of the two female dancers. The blonde moved like a
panther, her hand on the singer’s lower back, their arms a limber vine.
“Watch them,” my partner whispered. “What the singer is doing, you will do, and what she is
feeling I will make you feel.”
I mimicked the singer’s hips, pivoting, one, two, three, knee up, as my partner caught me, pulling
me against him and down, my hands on his chest. Then I watched as the women pressed together, step,
step, stop and pivot, the blonde’s hand moving down the front of the singer’s body as she bent
backwards, her eyes shut. It was so hot. They were hot, both of these women, clutching each other.
This was turning me on as much as my own partner’s hands. Then the blonde slowly unzipped the
singer’s dress, letting it die at her feet. She was in stay-up stockings and garters, no underwear, her
pale pink nipples peaking over the top of her black demi-cup bra, dark hair cascading around her
shoulders. I took in her beautiful body and the soft line of pubic hair highlighted against the tawny
flesh of the blonde’s hand as it traveled over her, fingers quivering. I felt my partner behind me,
inching me closer to the singer. Then I heard it, the sound of my zipper as my dress slipped off and
pooled around my ankles. The singer and I stood facing each other, both nearly naked, a foot apart, in
garters and bras. I’d never been with a woman before, but her desire for me was obvious … and
intoxicating. I wanted her, and him, all of it.
While our partners moved behind us, the singer pulled me in for an urgent kiss, and I let her! I was
kissing a beautiful woman, her soft mouth humming, her tongue darting into mine. Her lips traveled
eagerly down my neck, while her blond partner’s fingers teased her, her long red nails now a blur of
circles over her clitoris. Watching the blonde pleasure the singer, feeling the singer’s ragged breath
on my skin as her orgasm coursed through her, my own body heated and pulsed, arousing my partner
behind me. Even after she came, she didn’t stop swirling my nipples in her cool mouth, while my
partner’s warm, firm hands slid over my stomach, my pelvis, encircling me, his fingers finding my
own wetness, using the same driving rhythm as the singer’s tongue on me. I was gorgeously pressed
between them, thrashing with pleasure; in a matter of seconds I felt it too, and my whole body quaked.
I took what they were so generously giving me. With one hand in the singer’s thick hair, I watched the
tip of her pink tongue flicking my nipples as my partner’s fingers fiercely massaged the knot of my clit
in perfect circles, driving me crazy, releasing me, making me come, my orgasm crashing over my
body in wave after wave.
“Oh … yes.”
“Hermosa,” the singer murmured.
My partner clutched me tight, his hand cupping me as I shook, then subsided. I felt faint as he kissed
my shoulder and gently released me to the floor in a spent pile next to my beautiful dress.