Confessions

It was me, but it wasn’t me, like some scene out of Dirty Dancing, grinding against him, eyes half closed. I felt him respond, his hands moving over my hips, my waist, down over my ass. It was like having sex in public, and I followed not just the music but the throb in my lower belly and between my legs, making me rock against the hard press of his thigh between mine.

I don’t know how long we danced-I lost time, until he finally pulled me back to the table, where I collapsed into a chair, so dizzy it felt as if we’d been flying.

I drank the rest of the now iced-down fruity concoction in my glass and ordered another. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as I sucked that one down in huge gulps. I felt like I couldn’t get enough of…anything, everything. When his eyes met mine, they blazed with an unbelievable heat as his gaze moved over my body. I pulled my hair up in my hands and gathered it at the back of my head, leaving my neck exposed to the breeze. The front of the bar was open, letting in the night, and everyone with it.

“Having fun?” he asked and I just smiled in response, leaning back in my chair and spreading my thighs under the table, letting the breeze in under my skirt, too.

“Sure looked like it.” The voice startled us both as a woman grabbed the chair between us, turning it around and straddling it as she put her drink on our table. “You’re a great dancer.”

“Thanks.” It was all I could think of to say in my surprise.

She winked at me, her eyes heavily made up in dark black. Her hair was dark, too, short and straight and shaggy, her lips bright red. She had a nose ring and her eyebrow was pierced, and a tattoo that, in the darkness, looked like a mangled butterfly on the top of her bare right arm. She wore a black leather vest laced up the front with nothing underneath, her body full and lush.

“So, wanna go again?” She knocked her drink back-it was nothing froofy like mine. It came in a shot glass. Standing, she set it on the table, jerking her head toward the dance floor. “Come on, let’s go.”

It was a clear invitation, and she moved away, somehow confident I would follow.

Or maybe she wasn’t confident at all, I don’t know. But I did. I didn’t even look at my husband, to tell you the truth, not even a glance. I just stood up and followed, and before I knew it, we were dancing together, the same way he and I had danced, only it was softer, she was softer, her breath a combination of whiskey and Juicy Fruit against my cheek as we rocked, limbs entangled, bodies writhing.

I don’t know how long it was before I noticed him watching. He’d moved to a table close to the floor, but he didn’t join us, although I motioned for him. Shaking his head, he waved me on, his eyes blazing hotter than I’d seen them yet. That spurred me on, and I found myself giving in to her touch, her hands small and soft but surprisingly firm as they pressed my lower back, our breasts meshing, our faces close.

I didn’t think twice when she kissed me. I didn’t think at all. I just felt, her tongue, her teeth, the sharp intake of her breath when I responded, my own hands moving down to cup the swell of her ass. It had gone far beyond invitation now, and somehow I knew where we were going to end up. For the first time, I had no doubt, and I was right. We spent another hour, maybe two, dancing, drinking, talking over the music, all of it a slow, precious tease.

Her name was Meg but I still didn’t know her last time by the time we all reached our hotel room, and I guess I really didn’t need to. She had me pinned to the bed within minutes, arms above my head, skirt up to my hips, her leather-clad thighs pressing mine open as she kissed me, and I forgot for a while that my husband even existed in the world. There was nothing but this hot, breathless, demanding woman, drawing things from me I didn’t even know existed.

Where I fumbled and giggled, she was sure and serious, undressing me quickly, drinking me in with her eyes. Leather and lace, we rolled, hungry and clutching each other. I was more than a little drunk, which made things blurry. I couldn’t think, so I just let myself feel, the weight of her nakedness, the soft press of her flesh. Her breasts fascinated me, soft and round and full in my hands, her nipples dark tips that made her moan and thrash when I sucked them.

Her fingers found me wet and open, parting the red fuzz to delve inside, her thumb strumming my clit with a slow, steady, growing pressure that left me gasping into her mouth as we kissed. Just the feel of her tongue twining with mine as her hand worked between my legs left me weak with lust. She pulled me up to straddle her face, her tongue parting me this time, her hands moving up my waist to cup my breasts, roll my nipples in her fingers as she licked me.

I grasped the headboard, moaning softly as I rocked against her open mouth.