by Unknown
She leaned over, and he was treated to a nice view of the curve of her perfect mounds, and her swan-like neck. “I know you hate it,” she whispered. “But I think I can make it entertaining for you.”
His cock just about exploded right there. He looked up at her as she sat back upright.
“Get ready,” she said, spinning off the desk and sauntering out of the room. “We have to meet Lily at eight.”
Eight. On a Wednesday.
“What are...where are you going?” he croaked.
She was already on her way to the kitchen. “Dinner, silly. You want something?”
John looked down at his cock.
I think I can make it entertaining for you.
He may or may not have yelled, “No thanks,” as he headed for the bedroom to get ready.
If Lily had somehow been transformed into a dance club, she would have ended up as La Flaca. The place was small, elegantly sleazy, and filled with striking Latino and white suburban cliches, which was pretty much Lily's life in a nutshell. The interior was somehow entirely red: red lights, red walls, with only the occasional streak of green-turned-brown by the red lights or reddened yellow to break up the pulsing, throbbing blood color. The tables were crammed up against the walls to make room for the dancefloor, and when they arrived at eight pm, the place was already full.
“These are the old people,” Lily said, fluttering a dismissive hand at the dancefloor, where a couple who did not seem old at all except for a single silver streak in the man's black hair, were tearing up the dance floor in very steamy, perfected movements that made Adria's head spin.
“I can't do that,” she whispered to Lily.
Lily snickered. “It's easy if you are the girl. You just spin and spin, try not to get dizzy. Now you,” she said, pointing a slender finger at John, “you have to know what you're doing.”
Adria gave John a sympathetic look. He was being an excellent sport, but this was the last location he would have chosen to be. He was only here because she had promised him something. Something very naughty.
They sat down at a tiny table against the wall and near the dancefloor. Lily chattered with a waitress in supersonic Spanish, and after she left they were informed of their drink orders. Lily had kindly ordered a beer for John.
“I know you hate sangria.”
Before the drinks arrived, Lily shot up a hand and beckoned someone to the table in more lightening-fast Spanish. “It's Fernando,” she explained, briefly.
Fernando was everything Lily had promised. His dark skin fell somewhere on the mosaic of Caribbean people: mocha-colored skin, a shock of thick, straight black hair, and brown eyes flecked with green. His face was devastatingly handsome, and his body of lean muscle moved with a quiet, masculine grace.
Adria wasn't sure if her stomach would have dropped as much as it did had it not been for their “plan,” but when he took her extended hand and brought it to his lips when they were introduced, she felt as though she had a whole different body inside of her, plummeting and soaring at the same time. She could feel her face flush.
Lily winked at her as she mumbled something incoherent. “So this is your friend who wants to learn to dance,” he said. His comment was for Lily but he didn't take his eyes off Adria.
Adria actually felt herself going weak at the knees. She was grateful to be sitting.. “I...think I need a drink first.”
Fernando smiled, and shrugged. “Don't worry,” he said. He looked at John. “Your wife is in good hands with me.”
Adria looked at John. She could see the same expression gathering on his face, the one from the restaurant. Her own heart beat faster.
Lily took Fernando's hand. “Well. Let's not waste any time,” and the two of them strode onto the dance floor. In no time at all, they were swirling and floating through the rest of the dancers as though they were a professional team. Their lean, dancer bodies pressed against each other and then fell apart, Lily spun in what seemed like endless circles. Her red skirt spun out and the full length of her legs was revealed to all, with her black underwear flashing its snug, lacy fabric occasionally.
John tipped his beer into his mouth and edged his chair a little further back. Lily leaned against her own chair. They were so snugly packed now that her arm ended up resting against his. Her skin was hot and damp with sweat. He took his eyes off the dance floor for a second to sweep his gaze over the round, caramel hills of her breasts, spilling from the slouching top of her dress. Her slender, firm limbs seemed to be everywhere, moving loosely. As he always did around Lily, he wondered briefly what it would feel like to fuck a girl like her: she was petite but she seemed like a wildcat, with her untamed black hair, her mouth that seemed to always be open and laughing, and her taut, vibrant energy.
Lily gave him a look, and it was disconcerting. She always disconcerted him. She seemed to know what he was thinking. Trying to be suave, he turned back to the dance floor. After all, he was more interested in the sultry Fernando, whom Adria had promised to flirt with.
Lily fanned herself with a brochure of some kind. The warm air tickled his neck.
“I'm so hot,” she said, and he could see her teasing smile in the corner of his eye.
Fernando and Adria were standing at the corner of the dance floor. Adria brushed a strand of her hair from her face. She was smiling, looking down at her feet, and the two of them were moving slowly back and forth. A shudder went through John as he looked at where Fernando's hands were: one holding her hand, the other on her waist. Low on her waist, fingers resting on the curve of her ass.
His cock had been semi-hard since he had seen Fernando, and let his mind wander to the endless possibilities with him. When his fantasies set in on him, the reached for his throat and gripped him. He could feel part of his mind willing Fernando and Adria closer together, until the sweat of his body dampened her shirt.
“They look good together,” Lily commented. John felt his heart squeeze.
“Good thing he's so tall,” she continued.
John gave Lily the closet thing to a side-eye that he possessed. She seemed to be fishing for something, and since John had never trusted Lily any further than he could throw her (which was actually, probably, a terrible metaphor because most people could throw Lily a decent distance), his heckles were raised.
John narrowed his eyes in answer to her and focused on his wife and Fernando. Now they were starting to dance. He eyed his wife's body, and her supple breasts as they pressed up against Fernando's body. Their hands were aloft, and they moved together in a series of complicated steps, which Adria seemed to have gotten the hang of rather quickly.
He let a wave of suspicion wash over him, pleasant and awful.
Maybe she came here all the time. Maybe she had danced with Fernando before...
Adria's hips were right at Fernando's. A perfect fit: his cock was right against the convex hollow of her pussy. If he was hard, and John couldn't see how he couldn't be, his big Latino cock was pressing right against her inner thigh. Or maybe her engorged cunt. Maybe she was even getting off as they swayed against each other, and his cock rubbed her clit, which protruded like the swollen innards of an exotic flower when she was aroused.
John wiped sweat from his forehead. He was suddenly aware that Lily was watching him with undo attention.
His cock was incredibly, inexplicably, almost painfully hard, just like it had been at the restaurant.
Fernando gave Adria a spin, and John watched in awe as his wife twirled with incredible grace, and her skirt flared to reveal nearly all of her legs, and a glimpse of her black panties. A few people in the restaurant cheered, and while it could have been for any of the other dancers, John was convinced that it was for his wife, and her long legs, and the near-perfect view of her underwear.
He watched, his heart sinking with every snug embrace the two made, his irritation building as Lily continued to watch him with that queer expression on her face, his heart racing, his cock filling to painful w
ith excitement. His mind was overflowing with images of the dark-skinned Fernando and his wife, naked, their complementary skin tones against each other, dripping with sweat. Adria's voice filled his ears, as she moaned and squealed her way to a nuclear orgasm with Fernando's hot, sweaty, black cock inside of her...
“I have to go...to the...” he said, standing up at the same time. He looked down at Lily, who wore a devious smile on her face as always. Her eyes, though, seemed lit up by more mischief than usual. She moved her jaw back and forth in smug delight and waved at him.
Her eyes dropped, ever-so-briefly, to his crotch, where he knew his erection was evident. Another shift of the jaw, and then she returned her eyes to his. “Okay, John,” she said.
And she winked.
He stumbled through the crowded floor, feeling foolish and hoping his erection wasn't as obvious as it felt. He felt ill, and he was on an unparalleled high. He stopped in the doorway of the narrow hall that led to the bathrooms (grateful for having learned at least one word from high school Spanish), and looked back at his wife and Fernando.
They had stopped dancing, evidently so that Fernando could explain something to her. He was holding her hand, his big, dark fingers wrapped around her pale and slender left hand. Their wedding ring glinted through their entwined flesh. John shuddered. He needed to sit down. But he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Fernando leaned in, and spoke very close to Adria's ear. She turned her head slightly, to hear him better, and from where he was it seemed to John that his lips brushed over her neck.
Surely not, but it looked that way.
Adria smiled. She nodded.
They started to dance again.
Only this time, their bodies were pressed hard together. Fernando's chest was against hers: surely he was getting a nice feel for her full tits, and her candy-colored nipples were pressing against his, as he rocked and swayed her hips with his. Their legs seemed entangled – only more room for them to be rubbing against each other, aware of each other's lewd desires, their bodies betraying whatever “friendly” facade they were trying to put on.
And then another spin. And then:
Adria leaned back, and dropped her head backward. Her hair fell like a waterfall, stained red by the light of the club, and her long, elegant neck was exposed from the deep cut of her dress between her breasts to her sharp chin. And Fernando took it all in with such an obscene gaze, walking his eyes along the length of her body, that John was sure she could feel his tongue along the length of her chest. They paused like this, and then Fernando lifted his gaze.
Right to John.
A smirk flickered in his mouth. He held John's gaze (and his wife), and then they spun away.
John felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. He stumbled down the narrow hallway and into the men's room, where he was grateful to find a single, tiny stall to lock himself into and try to get under control.
He panted for a few moments, trying to take his mind off what he had seen and all of the filthy thoughts it had inspired. His cock was obnoxiously hard and didn't seem to be going anywhere, even given that the bathroom was crowded and men were pissing behind him in the urinal every few seconds.
He looked up at the ceiling and tried to rid his minds of his thoughts, but they only swarmed in on him.
Adria's legs spreading wide, her eyes growing big and dark with excitement as she stared at Fernando's naked body and the massive member between his legs, headed for her...
He couldn't go back out there like this. He had no idea how long Adria would be dancing, or Lily staring, and he would hit somebody in the face with this erection if he tried to squeeze out there again.
He could not believe what he was about to do.
He unzipped his pants.
It took no time at all, once he let down the floodgates, for him to stroke himself off, into the toilet, a few streaks of cum landing on the floor. His mind filled so quickly with thoughts of Adria, bent over and holding one of her asscheeks as Fernando slowly fucked her, in long, languid strokes, while she squealed in delight.
He stared at his hand on his cock.
It suddenly seemed insane, what he was doing. He hastily grabbed some toilet paper and wiped himself off. Then he stumbled out of the stall. He could feel the eyes of the bathroom's occupants on him, and it seemed to him that they knew what was in his mind, what he had been doing. He washed his hands and made his way back to the table, shaking.
Adria was evidently still dancing. Lily was frowning, alone at the table. “Oh my god,” she shouted, but slowly, annoyed. She slapped her purse on the table. “I have been waiting here bored forever. Watch my purse, Yone, there is a very handsome man who wants to dance with me.”
And her attention was – thankfully – diverted immediately. She extended her hands to an approaching man, who looked no more than twenty, and they spun away to dance.
John looked around the room, searching for Fernando and Adria. Part of him wanted not to find them, he realized. Part of him wanted for Fernando to have pulled Adria outside with him, and for her to be sliding up and down the brick wall of the alley. The other part of him was desperate to find them, and see for himself that his worst nightmares weren't coming true.
They weren't on the dance floor. He felt a surge of panic, one that was actually silly: he felt like he couldn't leave the table and Lily's purse. He stood up, but when he did, his eyes came to rest on Adria's hair, and he saw that the two of them were rucked away at the bar.
Adria caught his eye, and winked playfully. She was poised atop a bar stool, her legs crossed, and she was tipping a bottle of water back. John watched in a mixture of admiration and seething jealousy as she – deliberately – “spilled” some water down her throat. It ran right between her breasts, and she smiled at Fernando, dabbing a napkin he offered her in the canyon between her breasts. She slid her skirt up a little with one hand as she crossed her legs.
A glass of beer arrived next to her, and someone cleared away for Fernando to have a seat. John was trapped – pleasantly trapped, if he was being fair – across the room. Dancers obscured his view and then swirled away to give him only a glimpse at a time of his wife and Fernando. Here was Adria biting her finger and smiling...Adria uncrossing her legs...Adria's skirt rising along her thigh...Adria uncrossing her legs again and giving Fernando a nice flash of her underwear.
Adria being really quite obscene, for a public setting.
An exaggerated puff of air and the sweet smell of heated, feminine flesh alerted him to the presence of Lily next to him.
She set a sweating bottle of beer next to his arm and clinked it with her own bottle. “Cheers, Yone. Gracias por watching my purse, cariño.” He could feel Lily looking at him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Adria and Fernando. Even though he could barely see them, and he could only see flashes of what Adria was doing...her ever-rising skirt, her fingers playing across her chest, her wide, inviting smile, her leg moving closer and closer to Fernando's...
“Oye, hey, hello? Yone?” Lily snapped her fingers in front of his face.
He looked at her.
“I brought you a beer. What are you looking at over there, hmm?” She leaned over, looking in the direction of the bar, but she was already nodding because she already knew.
“Oh my god,” she said. “Adria has her hand on Fernando's cock!”
His eyes steered themselves violently in that direction, and his pulse surged. It was too late to hide his reaction from Lily, even though he realized a second later she was only winding him up. She was already chuckling and leaning back in her chair. “I'm just joking at you, Yone.” But her eyes met his over the bottle of beer, and something else was in them. Almost, if he was being honest, a certain hostile complicity.
But Lily was whisked away by another, different young man, who appeared and placed his hands on her shoulders suggestively, and whispered something in her ear that made her smile and forget all about teasing Yone.
So he sat there, and drank his beer, while his wife flitted next to Fernando, the hot Latino dancer. It was a scene he couldn't look away from, no matter how much it made his chest hurt and his stomach churn like he was going to vomit. And that was because his cock was incredibly, almost painfully hard again.
He watched until Lily broke the two of them up. She appeared next to Fernando and placed her flirtatious hand on his shoulder. Fernando went out to the dance floor and Lily paused next to Adria, drinking a water, her pretty chest rising up and down with the exertion of her incredible dancing.
Whatever Lily said to Adria, it made Adria flash her eyes to John. And then back to Lily. Her face changed, and it was hard to say exactly what she was expressing.
Fernando came back for Lily, and pulled her away from the bar. Lily let herself be pulled away, while still talking to Adria, her hand extended. Her mouth in a big smile.
Almost certainly, making some filthy, clever comment as she left.
The way Lily tended to do.
Adria finished her drink. She met John's eyes and smiled. She crossed the dance floor, weaving through the dancers like a nymph. Every one on the dance floor was sexy and pretty, but Adria stood out. She was taller, blonder, and more beautiful than anyone there. He watched like she was a goddess, an ethereal creature he would never be able to touch. Entranced. His heart felt stopped in his chest.
But when she placed her cheek near his, he could feel the very real heat of her body, and the movement of air as her breath caressed his neck and earlobe. “Let's go,” her voice purred.
Her hand darted between his legs, and made a leisurely pass over his hard cock, through the material of his pants.
He barely remembered how they exited the tightly-packed club. Adria led him by the hand, and they got into the car. Then they made out like teenagers. Groping each other, burning from the inside out with desire. John slid his hands along Adria's thighs until he found her underwear. He could feel the bump of her hard clit and the dampness of the satin material of her panties. She raked her fingernails over his shaft through his pants, and he shuddered.
