Salsa Nights

by Salsa Nights (lit)

  Why not tell her they were looking out for her? All these years, why not come talk to her? Ask her how she was doing? Now that she thought of it, where were they the night she slept with that asshole?

  They ran Club Lava—a swingers club. Isabel suddenly broke into laughter. And she’d been afraid of what Dale thought when he’d caught her and Brad kissing in the kitchen. He’d probably wanted her, too. She thought she’d seen the want in his eyes. They were surrounded by threesomes and orgies. Hell, they made money off them.

  Isabel bit her lip. This was an interesting turn of events because any fear she’d felt about them judging her desires to have a threesome with them was now canceled out. Granted, this solidified her earlier convictions that they went through women as fast as she danced the quick step, having an unlimited supply of sexy and willing female clients stepping into their club every night. They probably had a sign-up sheet by their office door with an appointment time to be with them. Yet, none of that mattered to her. Not their past, not the fact that they owned this club. It was actually very liberating. It was a license for her to lose her inhibitions and tell them how she felt, what she wanted. Would she?

  She reached a smaller room, and, through the beads, she could see the ménage a trois. A woman on her knees sucked a man’s dick while another took her from behind. Her body rocked back and forth. The man in front played with her hair while the man in back set the pace and rubbed her hips.

  Isabel watched and felt her fears, her worries, her sadness melt with the heat that blanketed her skin. The music seemed to amplify in her ears, the bass matching the beat of her heart. The men pumped harder. The woman arched her back. Isabel’s pussy fluttered, and hot cream escaped her slit.

  Feeling daring, uninhibited, she slowly slid her hand under her short black skirt. The men flexed their hips, fucking the woman who cried out for more. Isabel swallowed, her finger sliding under the edge of her damp thong. Oh, to be that free and wild. To have Brad gripping her hips and slamming his hard body against hers, sending Dale’s dick farther to the back of her throat.

  Her middle finger slipped between her wet lips, dipping into the entrance she dreamed would one day stretch for Brad and Dale. Oh, yes, first one, then the other. She circled her pussy, her folds beginning a slow contraction and release, wanting. Like the woman on her knees, Isabel breathed faster, her nipples grazing her blouse.

  Oh, to be dominated, controlled by arrogant, brooding Brad and charming, smiling Dale. To lose the need to be in charge of her emotions. Her life. They could take her. Hard. Fast. Anytime.

  “Do you like to watch, Isabel?” She drew in a sharp breath and whipped around, guiltily hiding her hand behind her back.

  Brad and Dale stood inches away from her, so close she almost ran into Dale when she spun. And she had been so distracted she didn’t even know who had spoken.

  She did know, though, that they looked absolutely hedonistic. She saw them in a new light. A dark, sinful light powered by sex, by passion, by abandonment.

  Brad’s eyes had turned the color of the sea beneath the beating of a hurricane. His lips thinned. Was he angry or turned on? His eyes caressed her deep cleavage, telling her he was aroused. By what he’d seen her do? The thought that they’d caught her touching her pussy while gaping at a threesome was embarrassing, yet oh so erotic.

  His black shirt draped over wide, thick shoulders, and his arms crossed across his solid chest. Menacing, dark shadows played in his eyes, daring her. Daring her to what? Touch herself again? Admit she liked watching how the men pleased that woman? She swallowed, not sure she could do either. Yet, how would it feel to have them watch her play with herself? To admit that while she had watched those men fuck that woman, it was Brad and Dale she’d visualized fucking her. The thought scared her yet her clit throbbed painfully hard at the image.

  Dale’s eyes heated to dark chocolate poured over strawberries. He licked his narrow lips, and her pussy constricted violently at the sight. His blue shirt, opened one more button than Brad’s, reminded her of this morning and his bare chest. He was large, powerful, smooth. Miles of muscle tensed and flexed down past tight abs, lower, to the erection outlined in dark denim.

  She swallowed, wondering how Dale could go from his smiling, charming self to a devil like Brad when he pinned her with a certain look. His feral eyes moved over her like she had been hunted and trapped. Caught. Was he warning her? Or promising her?

  “What are you doing here?” Brad asked so quietly it was almost buried under the seductive music.

  She straightened her shoulders and flicked her hair. They didn’t need to know, not yet. If they hadn’t wanted her to know they owned this place, then she could pretend she didn’t care. Why give them reason to feel their lie was justified by showing them they’d upset her?

  “I was bored,” she said nonchalantly.

  Dale raised his brow, and Brad looked at every inch of her. She was glad she’d chosen a red silk top with a plunging neckline that showcased her breasts. That would distract him. He deserved worse, but this was the only weapon at her disposal.

  “So you came to watch people have sex? Sweetheart, I have a better idea if that’s what’s on your mind,” Brad drawled, and Isabel swallowed.

  She looked from him to Dale, and felt terrified. It had been arousing to catch Dale watching her with Brad. But she hadn’t gotten past that moment. She was highly inexperienced about sex, and while watching a threesome was erotic, participating in one.

  “I’m not interested. I have to go,” she lied and tried to squeeze past them, but Dale grabbed her arm.

  “Isabel, please come upstairs to our office with us.”

  She shouldn’t have turned to meet his gaze because she fell into a pool of melted chocolate. His eyes swirled with the heat of the hunter who’d caged his prey and blazed with triumph. She couldn’t refuse when she was aching for this wild abandon in the moist folds between her thighs.

  They led her to the stairs at the far end of the hallway and up to their office. Brad held the door open, and she walked past him, ignoring whatever look he burned into her back.

  It was dim and huge. The whole back wall across from her was made of glass, and she could see fog rolling from the ceiling down toward the dance floor. Two large desks sat side by side in the center, and two red couches faced each other across a black table just in front of her.

  She wasn’t surprised Brad and Dale owned this club, not with the parade of women she watched them entertain over the years. And from the looks of this office, decorated in the same red and black décor as the rest of the club, she was sure somewhere were the whips and chains she’d envisioned in their house.

  “Why are you really here, Isabel? You—”

  She turned then and cut off Brad. “Oh, I just wanted to get out of the house, do a little dancing, maybe have a little fun. I’ve heard this is the place for all kinds of fun.”

  Isabel placed her hands on her hips and waited. She saw the hurricane in Brad’s eyes. So the man had emotions but, as usual, of the stormy kind.

  “Let’s not be coy here. You’ve been in this club before. Why would you come back?” Dale asked, surprising her, since he’d at least tried to be gentle with her downstairs.

  She could tease them, tell them she was looking for some wild ride with strangers, but she lived with them now. They had saved her. She couldn’t be totally rude.

  “I wanted to see the last place I saw Gina alive.” She admitted this grudgingly since she hadn’t wanted to tell them. But she couldn’t come up with a lie, not to them, not when she wanted to learn the feel of their mouths on her.

  Brad gave her a small knowing smile. Damn. “Bullshit.” She was really beginning to hate that about him.

  He crossed his arms while Dale shook his head and stepped closer to her. Isabel matched a step back, knowing one of those large desks was right behind her.

  “That’s good, except there’s nothing to see there. You know it’s not where she die
d. All that’s there is a roomful of naked people having sex.”

  She swallowed, the word sex making her acutely aware of the blatant masculinity displayed before her, starting with their bulging crotches. Theirs were dangerous, destructive bodies that threatened to consume a woman and leave her a heaping mess of uncontrollable emotions.

  “And you were not looking at that room. You were watching another.” Brad stepped closer now, and she closed the distance to the desk behind her.

  Trapped between furniture and two perfect forms of the male species a foot in front of her spiked the sexual tension she’d felt earlier to a dangerously combustive level.

  Isabel no longer heard the rhythm of the music from the club below, but the sound of her own breathing. Fast. Ragged. The pungent smell of leather dissolved, and their seductive scents closed around her.

  “I was confused. It was dark.” Her fingers curled around the smooth edge of the oak desk.

  Brad’s eyes lowered to her chest. It heaved for him. She had no control over her nipples scraping the silk of her top. They hardened and each breath pushed the budding peaks harder into the fabric. Under their vicious eyes, she loved her breasts. Loved what they did to these men. And, as the tips moved across the cool fibers, hot cream flooded her cunt.

  “You were turned on. Wet.” Dale told her, as if she didn’t know.

  “No,” she countered weakly, defeated, because even as she said it, sticky juice dripped to her thong.

  She caught the men briefly glance at each other and silently communicate with their eyes. She wished she knew them enough to catch the meaning, but suddenly Dale closed the small gap between them and wrapped a calloused hand around her neck.

  Isabel gasped, tilting her head back to meet his challenge. She breathed harder, and her nipples met his chest, muscle to silk. Damn, it was hot.

  “How about I check,” Dale rasped. It was not a question and she had not a doubt she’d let him.

  She wanted him to more than anything. Yes, she needed his touch. Brad was watching, rooted a few feet behind Dale. Titillating. Erotic. Isabel inched one foot farther away from the other, stretching her skirt open, inviting large, rough hands to her delicate, smooth crevice.

  Dale’s mouth lowered to hers and floated a breath away. He eyed her, pouring velvety ribbons of heat over her sizzling flesh. Her slit ruffled, waiting.

  She lifted her face just enough to catch his lips with hers, but he moved back and sat on his haunches.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Isabel breathed, knowing now how he meant to test her arousal.

  Dale’s hands went to her thighs and slid her skirt up to her waist. Her mouth dried. Brad watched her, and she met his stare, fighting to appear brave. Dale raised her left knee over his shoulder.

  Brad locked his blue eyes on her, challenging, watching her reaction, testing her limits. The thong bunched to the side, and a searing breath brushed her pussy lips.

  God, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t. Oh, but it was so delicious, so wrong.

  She moaned, still gazing at Brad.

  Dale’s flat tongue laved her closed labia. A rippling tremble flared up her spine, and Brad faded away as she dropped her head back. Dale flicked his way up and down her slit, then sunk his exquisite tongue into her burning cunt.

  Isabel cried out, overcome with a primitive urge, an ache, oh, so deep. No one had gone down on her before so nothing prepared her for the eroticism, the torturous pleasure that one man could give her with nothing but his lips and his tongue.

  And Brad watched. She felt his eyes burn her even as her flesh ignited with each stroke of Dale’s tongue. It was so wicked, so arousing. While one watched her bend and writhe, the other’s scorching mouth whipped her toward climax. Dale probed her pussy as if learning, tasting, and with a hum, he closed his mouth over her pulsating button and sucked.

  She felt her body tense as white-hot lashes curled through her veins. On their own, her hips gyrated over the lips suckling the enflamed clit. Her pussy fired off a series of convulsions, releasing her hot cream, and her clitoral climax rippled against Dale’s persistent tongue.

  Her fingers wrapped around silky brown hair. “Oh, Dale.”

  It was a moment before she realized Dale no longer ate her pussy. He was lowering her leg and skirt, leaving her with an animalistic want. The pain in her pussy begged for a cock and an even stronger release.

  How could Dale have done that with his mouth? She came so quickly, so hard. And Brad had witnessed the whole thing—Dale between her thighs, her climax. She closed her eyes for a moment, regaining her composure, wondering how she could handle any more when she’d known so little. How could she please them? Would she be enough? They were used to experienced, knowledgeable women. Damn, she was practically a virgin who’d thought a threesome would be hot and sexy, not a test of her inhibitions and ingrained conventions.

  Opening her eyes, she found Dale on his feet and Brad still watching.

  “She’s real wet and delicious,” Dale informed Brad, the weight of lust in his voice.

  “Isabel, have you ever been with two men at the same time?” Brad asked her tightly.

  Her eyes found him as he came to stand just next to Dale. The turbulence in his blue eyes terrified her. They told her more than what she’d seen in this club. It was a preview of the power these men possessed and would exude over her.

  His primal gaze made her want to cower from him, but her clit responded with a solid beat, unaware of the fear she presently felt for the unknown. But this was what she’d wanted—both Brad and Dale taking her and fucking her until she collapsed from exhaustion. So why the hell was she having doubts now?

  “No,” she whispered.

  Was that a relieved sigh she heard from Brad? “We want you. And, if we both have you, it will be rough, hard, erotic, sweaty, and you’ll even be sore. We won’t ever hurt you. You will feel more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced. We will push your limits and make you scream and beg. You may even crave it and hunger for it.”

  His words and his promises made her so wet she could feel her juices pour down like liquid heat and coat her swollen lips. What had she gotten into? Could she handle these two authoritative men? This was no longer a fantasy, safe and far away, and she’d seen threesomes and what goes where.

  The anger she still felt for having been taken from her home with threats, for having someone watch her while she worked fed this forbidden desire she felt toward them. It crackled with the need to be taken, possessed by them, and trapped between their pumping, sweaty bodies. How could anger fuel such sexual attraction?

  “You need to say it. Tell us you want us both,” Dale pressed gently.

  She shook her head—so many emotions and no logic. No control. Nothing made sense. There was no talk of tomorrow, no mention of feelings. It was just a need to quench a primal instinct, their desire for now, and to share her. And she’d wanted them for so long. She’d never dreamed those fantasies would be realized someday. But it was real now. They both wanted her.

  But she had to be smart, as uncomfortable as it would sound. She cleared her throat. “I, uh, hate to sound like my high school health teacher, but what about protection? I’ve been with one man once, but, uhm.” She swallowed.

  Dale’s face broke into a small grin. “We have protection here, and we both get checked regularly. We don’t have sex without condoms, but there are other ways to catch an STD. We’re both clean, and if we continue a sexual relationship, we can all go to the doctor for your own piece of mind.”

  She gave them a small smile, knowing she shouldn’t believe the clean part after what she’d witnessed over the course of a few years, but she did. They were too smart, calculating. And with the lifestyle they led in Club Lava, they were well aware of the risks involved.

  So was she, because to them, it would be just fucking. But to her? She’d have to think like them and not the forlorn teenager. If she wanted to experience these men, then she’d have to be brave. H
ell, at the very least, she’d like it a little and have some amazing memories.

  “I want you both,” she finally admitted aloud.

  Those small words unleashed Brad. She saw it a half-breath before he slammed against her.

  Brad kissed her viciously, possessively. His hands pulled her hips toward him, and his cock pressed into her belly. She gyrated her hips, searching, craving, her body coming to life under his hands and Dale’s stare. He lifted her by her ass and sat her on the desk. When Brad left her mouth and stripped her panties off, Isabel leaned back, dazed.

  Dale was there, helping to get rid of her blouse, but her arms defensively shielded her burdensome breasts from their view. He held her face and kissed her, his lips grazing hers softly before his tongue caressed hers. His gentle kiss soon turned aggressive and seductive. She moaned, her hands attacking his buttons, forgetting her tits, needing the feel of his skin under her hands. Finally.

  His muscles worked under her exploring fingers, snapping, flexing as his arms moved and his hands palmed her breasts. She gasped, and in the second she gulped air, his lips closed over one tight nipple. He pushed her down until her back rested on the desk, and her hands frantically grabbed his hair.

  Isabel moaned as Dale squeezed and kneaded. He licked, and then he sucked the whole areola. Her peak budded hard, swelling in his mouth. He found the other as he trailed his tongue across her chest.

  Brad lowered himself between Isabel’s thighs, and her pussy convulsed in wanton suspense. She couldn’t wait. She burned. She craved. But he studied her, his gaze moving over her slit. Did he like it?

  He moved closer, and when his tongue bathed her moist lips, Isabel shuddered and whimpered. He lapped up, down, teasing, torturing. His thumbs gently spread her slit apart, and his tongue dipped into her channel, tasting, feasting. Isabel was wild and free. Tears pooled in her eyes and her vision blurred.