Author: Elizabeth Heath
Category: Other
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Renee pulled me through a number of dancers close to the centre of the floor and started dancing with me. The way dancers moved here was a bit different than in New York, but not much, and it didn't take me long to give myself up to the music. It didn't take long for guys to be dancing around us either, like bees circling in on flowers. Renee was an unabashed flirt.
As Renee danced with a guy, she would play up to him, and at some point turn her back to him and turn her head and invitingly glance at him over her shoulder. She'd bend her knees into a little stoop and arch her back a couple of times sexily, offering her tight little butt. If the guy didn't have his crotch up against her by the second stoop, she would turn around and continue dancing with a girlish insouciance.
If the guy moved in, joining her rhythm of bumping and grinding, she would push her butt into him and even reach back with a hand on the side of his thigh. His hands would roam up and down her body. They would dance dirty like that for a little while before she would turn around again. Almost involuntarily, each time she moved away, I would glance down to see if she had gotten a 'rise' out of the boy, and each time it was plain that she indeed had. Renee would sometimes then move in on them and wrap herself into them, with one leg tight between theirs.Being a natural flirt myself, I barely missed a beat before following Renee's lead. Drinks were passed to us, but Renee waved them off and shook her head at me. As time went on I got emboldened in my dancing, and I didn't need to glance down at my own partners to tell if I was getting a 'rise' out of them.
It was giddily intoxicating to feel their hardening members rubbing up against my ass. A couple of guys grabbed my hips pretty tight and pulled me in close. I twisted free almost immediately, kept dancing, smiled real big and sexy and tick-tocked my index finger in front of their faces. One of those boys, actually a rather small, wiry compact guy, pressed what felt like a tree limb against me.
After a couple more songs, Renee grabbed me and we headed toward the water closet. Along the way she warned against ever drinking anything handed to me. "You could end up a slave hooker in Bangkok."
We stopped at one of the bars and Renee bought us each something refreshing, potent and familiar: Red Bull and vodka. Then we wound through the crowd to a stairway and we ascended to the next level.
This level was driven by hip-hop, and driven hard. The basic arrangement of the place was similar to the first level, but the look and feel of the decor was so completely dissimilar as to be a different place. Red Bull and vodkas finished, Renee and I were in the thick of it all over again. The bees came buzzing. By the second song I was sandwiched between two good-looking guys, one an almost albino white blonde and the other chocolate brown. Both were gorgeous. The tall white guy had sculpted facial features that reflected the well-chiselled torso evident beneath his tight shirt. He had short spiky hair. The black guy was stockier, shorter and thicker, with a smooth-shaved head. I cold feel both of their cocks semi-hard against me, one in front against my hip and belly, and the other, the brown one, behind me. I turned up the sex ooze a little. All thoughts of Ben having been dashed on the shores of Shayna, I decided to set these boys on fire. By the time the DJ blended the song into the next, I could feel their full shanks against me. Their hands were all over me. I felt so naughty, sexier than ever before in my life. I was wet, so wet I was soaking the patch of my thong. Running on the verge of losing all control, I was ready to take either one of them back to my room right then. I knew they wanted me, their desire was already searing my skin. I had never been with anyone like either of these guys. The idea of the man of marble was exciting because he was so solid and raw looking, but then this was the best looking black man I had ever seen. I had never been with a black guy. When he reached one arm across my abdomen, his hand pushed high up under my breast while his other pushed up my micro skirt and cupped my bare ass, and said, "You're coming with me, gorgeous," the decision was made. I thought he would carry me away.
I leaned into him and closed my eyes. Suddenly a strong grip on my arm startled me. Other hands withdrew and I shakily centred my own feet under me. "Hello chaps," Renee said, as she was pushing me out from between them.
"Hello Renee," they chimed together in singsong voices of different accents.
"I see you've met Jenna," she said sweetly.
"Hello Jenna," they said together again.
"You are one hot dancer, Jenna," the black guy complimented me.
"Jenna's one of my girls at work, and if you chaps ever do anything besides dance with Jenna, I warn you, you will be using strap-ons for the rest of your lives." This was said in an affectedly sweet tone of voice that was so chilling as to carry the weight of a significant threat.
Renee kept pushing me beyond them and we were on our way to the next level. "Those two are criminal predators," she said. "They are gay, hardcore sadists and very mean. They take a girl home and use her as a plaything. The brutality gets them all hopped up. After that it's demonized sex with each other. It's a night you would never forget no matter how hard you tried."
Minutes later we were on the next higher floor. This too was like a whole different club, featuring 70's disco revival music. There were lots of disco balls and lit floor panels. We finished another round of Red Bull and vodkas under a large screen onto which images from Saturday Night Fever and other disco icons were projected, and then wended our way into the dancing crowd to the familiar beat of "Staying Alive."
A bit less carefree after the encounter with the gay sadists, I was making an effort to keep the "sex ooze" under control. The dance crowd on this floor was a broader mix of ages and a bit less wild and sexually aggressive than the hip-hop floor. People were dancing with no one in particular, just kind of cross dancing with one partner for a few moments before turning and dancing with someone else. A couple of guys sidled up, turning from me to Renee or Renee to me, but when they didn't get the kind of responses they were looking for, they moved on.
One guy eventually focused in on me for a few songs and even took hold of my hands as we danced. Toward the end of Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff," he twirled me and as I went around I caught a glimpse of Ben standing almost right behind me. When I turned around to look again he was smiling with that big grin at me while dancing with Shayna.
The next thing I knew Shayna and Ben were dancing within our group. Shayna was no longer in her business suit but had changed into a classy black party dress.
I was in envy of her sophisticated beauty.
Ben was no John Travolta, but he wasn't one of those goofy dancers either. Judging from my early morning first impression, this was something of a surprise and relief. Shayna danced rather stiffly, as if she were afraid something might break. She still looked good, but not as sexy as I expected. That was before Renee came up behind her and put her arms around her and said something into her ear that got Shayna to smile, bend her legs a little more and move more with the music.
When Summer's "Last Dance" came on, it was a real change of pace at first, and because I was standing next to Ben he took me into his arms to dance the first slow part of the song, holding me close. At once I knew he was a good dancer. Every part of him telegraphed our next move with a sureness that made me giddy. His shoulders, his hips, his thighs, his hand that held mine and especially his other hand pressing into the small of my back all provided a chorus of tiny signals that made following his lead automatic. I had never felt so much like one with a dance partner before.
When the song broke into the faster tempo, he squeezed his hand firmly into the small of my back to let me know he was keeping me close. We moved quicker, in a way that I couldn't have imagined. My feet were moving between his and his between mine. There was not even a hint of a trip-up in spite of the quickness of our steps. The music, the rotating reflected disco-ball lights, my jet lag, the vodka and Ben's sure touch all combined to make my head swirl. I felt magically caressed wherever his body touched mine. The caress was gentle and sensual as we glided through a series of complicate
d movements flawlessly.
He was in complete command of me. I would lean into the turns when his movements told me they were coming. I would roll my hips in unison with his. I would arch my back away from him when I sensed he wanted me to and return into him fully at exactly the right time. I let myself go for him and with him, and I finally experienced dancing on air. The only words spoken were "I love how you move," whispered just once into my ear. I was floating deliriously in the arms of this handsome Viking.
When "Last Dance" gave way to "Bad Girls," Ben released his grip and took me by the hands for a little jitterbug style dancing before spinning me free to dance as I had when I first saw him. I glanced over at Renee who, still dancing with Shayna, smiled back at me with an approving nod. Shayna smiled at me too.
My world was spinning off axis with confusion. Why would Ben's date be smiling at me? Or even Renee for that matter? The sensuality of the dance with Ben was so overwhelming that only as it dissipated did I realized there was very little sexuality involved. As new and exciting as the sensations of dancing with Ben were for me, and even with his liking "the way I move," I could not tell if I was exciting him. Even pressed up against him I could feel no hardening of his cock.
Watching Ben dance with Renee and Shayna, I realized he wasn't "on the make."
He and Shayna were obviously happy with each other and comfortable together. If he has only been in Prague a week, how could they be so close already?
I finally gave up on my growing infatuation with Ben and turned my dancing to some of the other guys that had worked their way into my vicinity. Before long I was dancing once again with the reckless sexual abandon I had earlier in the night. Almost, anyway; I was unable to clear Ben completely from my mind. Even after a few dances with a cute Austrian boy about my age, who wound his arms around me and put his hands on my hips, my sides and high on my stomach up under my breasts, I would wonder about Ben. Even after I could feel the firm cock of the Austrian pressing against me when we got close, I kept glancing over at Ben. Each time I did, I found him looking at me.
Most of the time Ben would meet my glance with a smile so big it would disarm any ability to be coy and caused me to look back and smile in spite of myself. It was goofy. What was it about this guy that was so beguiling? I asked myself.
I became determined to not go home alone and lost track of Ben, Shayna and Renee as I turned up the heat on the Austrian boy for the next couple of songs. He was ready and needy. I was just thinking about how I might teach him a few things, when Renee put a hand on my shoulder to hold me still. "I'm leaving," she said into my ear. "Shayna has a car, only a little two-seater, and offered to drive me. Ben agreed to see you back to the hotel. OK?"
I looked in the direction of Renee's head tip that accompanied this directive to see Ben and Shayna standing off to the side of the dance floor. Ben gestured a timid wave: something reminiscent of what Clark-fucking-Kent might do.
I looked at the Austrian boy who had also stopped dancing and taken hold of my hand possessively. I looked over at Ben, and back to the Austrian. "Enigmatic Ben or a sure thing?" I asked myself but the answer was already in my head.
Using his grip to pull myself into the Austrian, I kissed him full open on the lips as I took one stroke up and one stroke down the front of his pants over his firm bulge. "Good night, sweet prince. Thanks for the dance. I'll look for you next time." I walked off with Renee without looking back and continued right on past Ben and Shayna without stopping. I felt bad for the Austrian boy.
Shayna's car was brought to the club by the valet. It was tiny! It was called a SMART car. It was like a bubble on wheels. Double cheek kisses passed all around before she and Renee got in and drove off.
"Cab or walk?" Ben asked. "There's a moon."
"It's three in the morning!" I said. "And I've been dancing in these shoes for hours." Ben looked down as I wagged the front of my left high-heeled shoe.
Ben pressed something into the doorman's hand and said "The Kempinski, please." The doorman whistled for a cab.
It was a short cab ride to the hotel. Ben was quiet and gentlemanly. "You must be dying from the travelling and first day excitement," was all that he said.
"Uh huh," was the only thing he got out of me as I laid my head against the seatback and closed my eyes.
In front of the Kempinski, Ben helped me out of the cab and with his arm around my waist walked me through the small lobby into the lift. My head was on his shoulder.
In front of the doors to our rooms, I was digging for the key in my clutch purse. Ben stood in front of me without moving. Before finding my key I became aware of his focus on me, stopped my search and looked up at him. He placed a hand gently on each side of my face and held me still. Looking straight into my eyes he said, "How wonderful that our paths kept crossing today, Jenna. You are a magnificent girl. You will do well in Prague." He then kissed me on my mouth, furtively, gently.
Careful not to reveal my growing hunger for him, I returned his kiss just as cautiously.
"Think I'll skip my morning run," he said with that goofy grin of his, "perhaps I will see you at breakfast?"
"I'll knock when I go downstairs," I said and comically sampled my grandfather's knock on my door as a kid, "Shave and a haircut...two bits." Bump, bump ba-bum bump...Bump-BUMP!
Finally finding my key, I turned to my door, unlocked it, said "Goodnight" and entered my room. Closing the door, I sank back against it in exhaustion and self-pity. For what, I didn't know.
"Don't forget to latch it," Ben said though the door.
I smiled to myself and turned the bolt. Smoky and a little grimy from the night of partying, I stripped off my clothes, took a quick shower and washed my hair.
Reinvigorated, I admired my breasts in the mirror as they heaved and bounced under the effort of towelling my hair dry. I brushed my teeth and did a little flossing, replaying the events of the day. Not bad, girl. No, no, MAGNIFICENT! You will do well in Prague, I repeated to myself.
I slipped my chemise over my head and just before climbing into bed I reached up next to the headboard and tapped out on the wall, the wall separating Ben's room from mine: Shave and a haircut...
I waited for the "bump-BUMP" response from Ben, but almost a minute went by and I was already in bed before it came...on my door.
When I opened the door, Ben stood wonderfully shirtless, framed by the dim late night hallway light, in blue silk pyjama pants the colour of his eyes. He stepped into my room, closed the door behind him, turned the bolt, took me in his arms and kissed me with a desire so unrestrained, a passion so full of fire that each nerve, every synapse of my body was suddenly awake and vibrating.
My arms, which had splayed away from my body like wings when I first bent back over Ben's arms, came up around his neck as my mouth opened to receive his lips and probing tongue. Suspended on my arms and his, I encircled his waist with my legs. Ben turned and pinned my back against the wall and leaned into me, searching my mouth with his sensual tongue. His hands moved down my sides and wrapped under my bottom to lift me taller and easier to kiss. With me secured against the wall, his hands now freely roamed my body like a conquering army assessing new territory.
I released my arms from around his neck, pulled my chemise over my head and dropped it to the floor. I then crossed my arms over my head against the wall, stretching my elbows out and shoulders back, to open myself up to Ben's exploration. He took advantage of the opening to kiss my neck and shoulders, working his way down to nuzzle my breasts. First my left nipple slid into his mouth as he rolled it between his lips and teased it to full hardness with his teeth. Satisfied, he moved to the right one, teasing it firm with minute flicks of his tongue that sent current toward both my brain and my vagina, making me moan a little. Eventually Ben just pressed his face full against my tits, nuzzling, sucking and licking with such abandon that he too moaned.
I became aware that there was no stubble on his face; that he must have shaved for me. The
bastard was so sure of himself! I thought, and I didn't care. The realization made me want him more.
"To bed," I breathed into his ear, "take me to bed." So from being pressed against the wall of the room, I was carried by Ben to my bed, his route navigated by the dim grey light of the moon spilling through my window. He bent to lower me to the bed and extended his arms to set me gently onto the mattress. The hard end of his cock inside his silky pyjama bottoms grazed my buttock and then released suddenly away as it passed by my already soaking pussy.
He stood next to the bed, facing my open, naked body lying before him. My legs were still loosely tangled around his knees. In the pale light I could see his chest, the ripples of his abdomen and the distended bulge inside his pyjama bottoms. His fingers were at the drawstring, taking too long, fumbling, teasing me, before saying his first words since entering my room, "You look so beautiful in the moonlight, Jenna. Like some glorious gift sent to me today... I wanted you from the moment I saw you this morning."
He stretched the front waistband of the pyjamas outward and tipped the stick of his bulge upward to clear it and let the pants fall away, revealing his gift for me. I inhaled sharply, almost a gasp, at the sight. Classically perfect in shape and size, it curved upward in defiance of gravity.
He took a firm grip on my upper arm and pulled me toward him. I unhooked my leg from him and let myself pivot on my back, parallel to the edge of the bed. I looked up past his cock to search his eyes, which in the dim light were but dark recesses. Still, I knew what he wanted.
I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up on one arm, lifting my face even with the end of his shaft, stretching out my tongue to catch with the tip the bead of pre-cum that beckoned me by glistening in the moonlight. I licked it into my mouth, creating a tendril that connected us for a split second before it broke half onto my chin and half back onto him. His cock was seemingly vibrating with the tight strain of his desire, my tease of the tip. I brought my tongue again to the end to get that last taste. The split that was the source of his dew tensed open and I probed it with the very tip of my tongue. Unable to tease him any longer and unable to restrain myself any longer, I opened my mouth and engulfed the beautiful head by working my lips around it slowly, until they folded over the pronounced ridge. I lightly squeezed it with my teeth, feeling the wonderful texture of his engorged flesh yielding to the slight pressure of my gentle gnawing. I then worked my lips back off and then slowly back on.