Private Dancer

Another hand spread wide across her spine and pushed her forward. Alicia bent at the hips. The hand on her inner thigh pulled her leg outward and she widened her stance. She gripped the bars in front of her to retain her balance and to try to keep herself together.

Her fingers turned white when the thumb underneath her thong began wiggling. Her toes curled inside her shoes. She waited for that insidious touch to delve deeper between her legs. She was ready for the stroke, craving it, but she was stunned when instead that thumb flicked.

Every muscle in her body clenched when the crotch of her tiny panties was pushed aside. Another flick tucked it up in the notch between her vulva and her inner thigh, and she was exposed completely.

She squeaked in distress. That tiny placket of material hadn’t been much, but she’d relied on it to protect her modesty. Now it was gone. Her private womanly area was bared to all the strangers’ eyes. Her pink flesh. Her dampness. Her curls.

She wanted to die.

Behind her, there was a chorus of groans and moans.

‘Now that’s a pussy.’

She went white-hot at the word, but she remained bent over, frozen and trembling.

The tremble became a shudder when that masterful thumb slid over her, finally touching her. Her back arched hard. ‘Oh, please. I – I can’t –’

‘You’re so soft and gorgeous.’

It was the baby-faced businessman who’d first asked to pet her. A finger glided over her swollen flesh and slipped into a crevice. Her spine stiffened. Was that him?

More touches came, and her head bowed. How many were back there? How many were touching her? She couldn’t look again, any more than she could control her hips. The movement they were following was natural, guided by need and something more.

Desperation.

Oh, stars, she’d never felt like this. Her body was spiralling upwards, clenching tighter and tighter. Her skin felt hot and prickly. Her – her p-pussy was fluttering and so, so achy and wet.

A moan ripped through her lips when a determined finger circled her sensitive opening. Round and round, it stroked her until her hips were pressing back, the bars biting into her flesh.

‘Fuck her,’ someone growled. ‘She wants it bad.’

The finger penetrated her, going deep.

‘Ohhhhhhh,’ she cried.

From then on, everything circled in her head. The music, the thrill, the hands, the fingers, the kisses. Lips touched her butt as the one finger inside her became two, and she sighed in delight. She hadn’t expected gentleness.

She didn’t get much.

The pressure increased and her brow furrowed. Another finger had penetrated her, but was it from the same hand? They worked inside her, pumping like pistons until she didn’t care.

Someone played with her clit. The touch was shocking and intimate. She flinched away, but strong hands clenched her hips and offered her up. That touch was ruthless. Alicia looked down between her legs and watched as fingers tugged on her pubic hair and a thumb worried her overly sensitive nub.

‘God, look at her.’

Her eyes flew open and, in that moment, it was as if cold water had been thrown over her. No, not God. God couldn’t see this.

But Remy could.

Her gaze locked with his, and her nipples tightened until they threatened to poke right through the sequined material of her tiny bikini top. He’d touched her there, rubbed her briefly with his knuckles. The way she was bent over, her breasts were on display for him. They swung and juddered with every move she made.

And she was moving faster, almost jerkily now. Her breaths sounded harsh in her own ears.

‘That’s a hungry pussy,’ someone said.

Another tug at her curls. ‘I like that she doesn’t shave.’

‘I want to suck her.’

Her ears felt hot from talk like she’d never heard, but that didn’t stop the desire moving through her. The overwhelming need.

‘She’s close,’ another man said.

‘She wants this bad. Fuck her harder.’

No, not harder!

‘Yesss,’ Leesha groaned when the fingers inside her became rougher.

They weren’t moving in sync, and it felt like a hundred fingers were filling her. When they found their rhythm, her knees nearly buckled. The pressure was thick, and the fingers at her clit teased round and round. She lurched hard, though, when the pad of a foreign finger pressed directly over a place she hadn’t expected.

Her most secret place.

Panic washed through her. ‘Remy!’

It was Bas who came to her rescue. ‘No anal penetration,’ he barked at her side.

The crowd behind her went quiet for a brief moment.

‘Her ass is mine,’ Remy finally growled.

Someone behind her chuckled, and the momentary reprieve was gone. Her ass was his? Alicia felt herself going under as the finger-fucking intensified. Her pussy was theirs. Nobody was stopping them. Not Bas or Remy.

And not her.

She was so wet, her dampness dripped from her. Her hips were working. Fingers were plunging. A touch stroked over her inner thigh, picking up her wetness. It lay deliberately on the bud of her anus again. Shocked, she looked at Remy, but the finger obeyed the rules. It pressed firmly against her tender opening, touching her in a shocking way. Wetting her.

And it wouldn’t go away.

Was it the young businessman? The silver-haired boss? The black man she’d seen?

‘Oh … Oh!’

Her lungs worked like bellows, and her blood thundered through her veins. Her hips began to jerk hard and then the orgasm hit.

Like a tidal wave.

Right there in public, in front of a bunch of strangers who now knew her intimately, Alicia reached her sexual peak. A hoarse cry left her lips, reaching above the music that still wafted through the air. The fingers inside her stilled, grinding deeply and she shuddered again. That insidious touch on her anus swirled, and she dropped helplessly to her knees.