Carnal Dancing

Carnal Pleasures, Book 3

Danse Charnelle—a members-only dance club boasting one simple rule: Complete nudity is prohibited. So why is Rhiannon Lassiter sitting alone in a club created for carnal play?

Watching the barely-clad couples bouncing and thrusting on the dance floor, Rhia is asking herself the same question.

So too is the club's owner, Sam Coulter. Sexy and unattached, Sam finds his solitary guest irresistible. Could a romp on the dance floor be far behind?

READER ADVISORY:

This is an erotic short story (approximately 5,500 words in length) featuring hot, graphic sexual situations between consenting adults. Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

I allowed Sam to draw me to my feet, thrilled by the desire heating his eyes. A desire I fully reciprocated. But when he pulled me toward the dance floor, I hesitated. I really liked this man and didn't want a too-quick coupling to prevent a deeper connection.

“Relax,” he said, snaking an arm around my waist and drawing me close enough to murmur in my ear. “We'll dance and observe, not participate. Only as much as you're comfortable with,” he promised. Then grinning wickedly added, “This time.”

He captured my lips in a quick kiss that instantly had me hungering for more, then dragged me out on the floor.

Threading our way through lust-filled couples, naked breasts bouncing energetically while bare asses flexed and thrust, I quickly grew aroused and would have been happy to stop anywhere for further observation. But Sam seemed to have a particular destination in mind.

Just as I feared I might have to abandon my reservations and attack my companion right then and there, he stopped and spun me into his arms until my back was pressed to his chest, my butt snuggled against his groin.

“I like these two the best,” he whispered, nodding at an attractive couple in their late twenties or early thirties. “They know how to enjoy themselves.”

“And the others don't?”

My dismay soon turned to understanding as I watched the couple dance. Either they'd been on the floor for awhile or it was a return visit because both were shirtless. Dancing back to front, like Sam and I were, the woman's firm, rosy-tipped breasts pointed skyward as she arched her back and linked her hands behind her companion's neck.

One of his hands cupped a breast while the other was busy under her short skirt. She saw me watching and smiled a cat-in-the-cream smile, then lifted the tiny skirt so that I had a better view of her lover's hand. His finger moved gently in the folds of her slit, pausing to fondle her clit before resuming his slow caress.

I couldn't help but squirm, rubbing my butt against Sam's hard erection until he loosed a guttural groan in my ear and cupped my mound through my leggings to hold me still.

“You're going to make me break my promise,” he warned, pressing a finger against my slit. His free hand lightly brushed the hard bud of my nipple through my shirt.

I suddenly wished that I'd chosen different clothing—something more accessible—because I wanted nothing more than the feel of Sam's skin against mine. Especially when the female dancer shifted her hips to the side to reveal her man's hard cock, rampant and ready for action.

Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she began to stroke, syncing her rhythm to his fondling of her pussy. I undulated my hips against Sam, my cunt as wet and slippery as the woman's I watched. Sam increased the pressure of his finger against my mound, while he squeezed my nipple.

I watched with bated breath as the woman released that engorged cock and repositioned herself in front of her lover. I moaned, anticipating what was coming. The woman widened her stance and reached between her legs, guiding that delicious spear of hard flesh into her wet core.

Transfixed, I gasped with her as the man's wide crown penetrated her damp folds and he buried his shaft to the root in her soft, willing body. Bliss suffused her face as he began to thrust.