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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
The Lady Danced (MF, rom)
by Sven the Elder <sven@brass-neck.demon.co.uk>
(c) 1998
Prologue:
^^^^^^^
Recently I visited America for the first time. The experience
and my visit were quite overwhelming, in many, many ways. Seeing road
signs everywhere for places and names only previously heard of in songs,
or read of in books. Travelling on Route 66, and other incredible geo-
graphical features of staggering beauty and magnitude. A lot was
crammed into a short space of time and, for that, the planning and the
general logistics, not to mention the actual driving around, I owe a
huge debt of gratitude to my good friend, The Warthog. It's a tribute
to his forbearance that we remained as good friends at the end as we
were in the beginning. We saw and did a lot without it being onerous.
The diary I kept has triggered thoughts for some stories; this is the
second...
======================================================
This story contains words of a sexual nature and should not be
read by juveniles. If this means you, go away and read something
else; you shouldn't be here anyway. This is a work of fiction and in
no way portrays real life - if you can't hack that, go lie down
in a dark room; the bad feelings will go away.
=======================================================
And the Lady danced 'till Dawn
by
Sven The Elder
(c) July 1998
Whistling to himself , Mike parked his sports motor where he had
been directed in the club car park. He had been amused by the appearance
of the cop. Dressed as she was, she could have been genuine, but he
grinned, imagining the station sergeant's comments about the way that chest
was crammed into the ill-fitting jacket. Anyway, it was in keeping with
the atmosphere that he knew awaited inside the club.
Mike walked on down the side of the building to the front doors.
The doorkeeper smiled pleasantly and eased the door open a little, which
allowed a little of the welcoming cool inside to escape. As his eyes
became accustomed to the light levels, the rock and roll music washed
over him -- not quite a wall of sound, but pretty close. It was just as
well; talking was not the ideal social activity for this evening's
entertainment.
"Hi! Welcome to the Blue Lady," said the girl at the desk. By
the standards of erotic venues, it could be said that she was not overly
endowed. That still didn't mean that she would break her nose if she
fell over forwards. "Can I see your Membership Id, please, sir?"
As he passed his details to her, Mike managed to avoid looking
and talking directly to her cleavage. There would be time for some of
that later -- sooner rather than later, he hoped, as he glanced inside.
She finished her task, checking him out against the computer details,
and smiled and said, "Enjoy the evening, sir."
Mike went in, walking down the steps to the well of the main
room. The club was not busy as yet; this at least might help him get
a seat in a more discrete location. The dancers preferred that. It was
more difficult for the men in suits to see exactly what was going on.
Although it was against the rules, some of the dancers were tactile in
their approach. He had never understood how some folks thought that the
girls in these clubs were being exploited. Jeesh! They got to set the
rules; they got to define the state of play down to the last detail;
and, if you didn't play the game right, ultimately they could have you
removed. If that happened you would be advised that, if it occurred
again, they would terminated your membership -- reluctantly, of course.
The ultimate sanction, perhaps. In a way it made the evening a little
more of a challenge. It was a game that he had played in the clubs back
home in the UK -- basically: what could a guy get away with?
Climbing up a short set of stairs, Mike chose a seat where he
could see the room and the stage; more importantly, the lighting was
such that the big wing chair the club favoured was a little more hidden
than most of the others.
"Good evening, Sir. May I get you a drink?" Engrossed in the
performance of the young lady currently on stage, Mike had missed the
girl's arrival.
"Oh! Yes, yes, a beer please." At that, he returned his gaze
to the stage. It was odd really; watching the girl disrobe was having
little effect on his libido. Mike felt like a detached viewer, looking
in from the outside. The bare flesh was interesting and almost erotic.
But sexy? No. It was too clinical. Mike sighed as he realised that
the girl on the stage had effectively switched off; there was no 'soul'
in her performance. "Oh God, dear. Just take the money and run, for
heaven's sake. Standing there and waggling your tits in time to the
music is less than interesting!" And he looked away.
Mike watched the waitress returning with his beer, and as she
placed it in front of him, he smiled at her and gave her a good tip.
People tended to forget them, and sometimes times could be lean; they
did not get paid well.
"Thank you, sir. Have you spotted anyone you like yet?"
The question concerned the other show, the other dancers, the
ones that interested Mike most. He laughed. "No, but I've only just
got here. Anyone new? Anyone you think I might be 'interested' in?"
The girl looked serious for a moment. "I think I might know of
a person. She'll be fascinated by your accent alone. I'll see if she's
free." Looking thoughtful, she disappeared from view. Mike continued
looking around. Not far away, a girl in a G-string was wrestling with
a vertical chrome pole in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
Concentrating as she was, her eyes half-closed, she made love to the
inanimate object as if her life depended on it. Perhaps it did.
He watched a pale-skinned girl come through a door on the other
side of the club and look round; she met his look, nodded to herself,
and walked across towards him. As she came up the stairs, Mike took in
her slinky black dress; it left nothing to the imagination and plainly
showed a distinct lack of underwear. She approached and leaned close
to his ear so he could hear above the music.
"May I join you? My name's Carrie."
Putting his hand on her shoulder, and pleased that she didn't
flinch, Mike spoke next to her ear. "Please do. We may even be able
to chat when the music stops." He saw her laugh, and she sat down on
the arm of the chair, her legs against his, her arm across his shoulders
and her long, beautiful hair against Mike's face as she leaned her head
against his. For all the world they looked like lovers -- lovers who
were familiar and had known each other a long time. She twirled her
fingers in the back of his hair as they looked at the dancer on stage
coming to the end of her act. As the applause died down and there was
a lull in the proceedings, Carrie waved to the waitress, who had been
hovering in the background. She appeared a moment or two later with a
drink and Mike paid, again tipping the girl well as he thanked her for
telling Carrie about him. She grinned and winked at him.
"Where's home?" Carrie asked. "You're not from this country."
So Mike told her of his home, of England and a little of his work that
brought him here. In turn, Carrie told him of herself. She was taking
a year off, earning the funds to pay her way through grad school.
"Trouble is," she said, "I enjoy this. I can be sexy, go as far
as I want, make a lot of money, and *I'm* in control. I call the shots,
and, although I'm not a control freak, it's a good feeling. I earn so
much that nowadays thoughts of college are kind of taking a back seat."
Carrie grinned. The DJ announced the next dancer on stage, and Carrie
asked, "Would you like me to dance?" As the music started, Mike nodded
his agreement.
Lazily Carrie got up, leaned across and said in his ear, "I'll
just put my purse beside you." Leaning further, her knee touched Mike's
and her breasts brushed his face through the dress fabric as she put the
bag
down. Smiling gently, she stood up and swayed to the music, running her
hands over her body, caressing herself, smoothing the dress over her
breasts and then down, hugging herself. She ran her hands down to her
hips and halfway round to her butt; then, gripping the dress, slowly,
she eased it up her form. Her legs were stupendous, lithe, and shapely,
and touching Mike's. Even though he knew he couldn't touch, Mike wanted
to reach out and grasp her hips and pull her to him. It was only by a
great act of will power that he stopped himself.
Carrie watched him through half-shut eyes, teasing him, easing
the dress slowly higher, swaying all the time hypnotically. The swell
of her breasts became visible, and then suddenly the dress was gone and
Carrie dropped it into Mike's lap. Presented with a shapely pair of
breasts that Carrie now caressed and pushed upwards, Mike could only
watch and yearn for what might be. They were spectacularly beautiful.
Carrie leaned forward, draping her hair across Mike and, putting her
hands on the back of the chair for support, moved her breasts to either
side of him, close to his face. Knowing that her hair and the dark
corner masked him, he moved forward fractionally and kissed the nipple
nearest to him. It hardened instantly, and Mike felt his cock swell in
sympathy. He was glad of the dress covering him down there; at least it
might not be too apparent!
He also felt Carrie stiffen, just fractionally; no one watching
would have noticed. Inwardly, Mike grinned. He had got lucky finding
a dancer who liked touching and being touched -- discretely, that is.
The girl moved back, standing upright. She continued to stroke and hold
herself, eyes now closed, lost in the sensuous dance and the music. She
turned her back towards Mike and he was mesmerised at the thong of the
G-string as it plunged between the cheeks in front of him.
Carrie bent forward at the waist, still swaying. Then, placing
a leg to either side of Mike's right knee, she moved in closer as she
steadied herself by holding onto his leg and the chair arm. She bent
her knees and ran her thigh along Mike's leg, her ass cheek just barely
touching him. Her thigh brushed Mike's right hand, which he had placed
on top of his leg. He gripped his leg to keep from the temptation of
openly touching her as she half-squatted and ran her covered pussy over
his hand. Mike raised his thumb fractionally, and she moved so that it
ran along the lips of her sex, back to the hidden rosebud of her anus.
Through the spot where their legs were in contact, he could feel her
shudder in pleasure. Slowly, deliberately, she moved back over his
thumb, and Mike felt her wetness through the cloth.
Carrie moved forward and turned round, again putting her arms on
the chair back to either side of Mike's head. Flicking her hair over
his again, moving her head to where they could talk without shouting,
Carrie said, "No one's ever managed to do that before!" and she laughed.
Mike, also laughing, said, "It isn't all I'd liked to do!" As
Carrie moved upward, once again teasing Mike with her breasts, he gently
bit one of her nipples. In response, she steadied herself and leaned
forward, touching Mike's crotch with her knee. As she touched his penis
through her dress and his trousers, he saw her eyes widen a little at
contacting the hardness there. And then the record was finishing and
Carrie moved away. Mike picked up a fifty from his change on the table
and Carrie leaned forward. Without breaking eye contact, Mike tucked it
into the top of the front of the G-string and Carrie smiled gently.
"I'd like to stay for a while, if you don't mind," she said.
Mike grinned and responded, "Please do. Be my guest."
The second dance she did was hotter than the first, starting as
it did with no dress to take off. Carrie spent more time with her hair
draped over Mike's head and face. Mike spent more time kissing Carrie's
now very erect nipples. He had both hands on her hips, steadying her,
of course, as she did so. As the music ended and Carrie sat down, she
draped a leg over Mike's and placed it in contact with his groin. By
the way she moved it, Mike knew she could feel him, and knew just what
she was doing, exciting him, deliberately working him up. While she sat
like that, all Mike could do in return was to gently rest a hand on her
hip. A third dance followed, and this time she had her back to him more
of the time. Once again Mike was able to run his thumb along the crease
of her labia, but this time under the cloth and in direct contact with
her wetness. As he was steadying her with his other hand, he felt her
groan as he did so.
Carrie sat back down on the arm again, without putting her dress
on. She was a little more flushed than before, she leaned back to talk
in his ear again, and breathing a little heavily, just said, "Wow!"
Glancing at the clock over the stage, Carrie said, "My shift is
done; my time's my own now." She leaned forward to pick up her drink
and Mike put his arm across her waist so that his hand was just under
the swell of her breast. Carrie picked her glass up and seemed not to
notice, for the benefit of anyone watching. But she sat with her arm
forward, masking from view the hand and fingers that were now touching
and fondling the underside of her breast. She leaned in and kissed
Mike's earlobe and said, "That's naughty and not allowed." But she made
no move to stop it. Then she stood up again, placing her leg in between
Mike's, and leaned forward, this time to pick up her purse. Again her
leg contacted Mike's hard penis. She picked up her purse to put the
bills in and said, "You know, I think it's nice I can have that effect
on people. Trouble is, it effects me as well."
As she straightened up she gave Mike her purse to handle while
she put her dress back on. As she lifted it from Mike's lap she managed,
very successfully to grope him, smiling sweetly as she did. Mike seized
the moment. "Would you like a drink in quieter surroundings?"
Carrie looked at Mike thoughtfully. "You know very well that's
not allowed here; we have strict rules about that. So I don't normally
do that." Mike said nothing. Carrie continued, "But I'll think about
it while I'm changing. I normally go home by cab, but tonight I was
late leaving to come here so I took my car. It's parked down the side.
If the lady watching the parking lot sees us together, she'll break your
arms; she's friendly that way! Plus, I'm out of a job. I drive a white
Miata, by the way. Turn right out of the parking lot and go to the
Chevron station on the next block. If I decide that I'd like to play,
I'll join you there in about twenty minutes." And she turned and left.
Mike finished his drink thoughtfully and then made his way out.
He got to his car and drove to the filling station, not really expecting
Carrie to appear. He parked and went in to get a cold drink from the
machine. Back outside in the car, Mike waited, hoping that she might
keep her 'date'. As time went by, his hopes dropped, but just as he was
about to leave, the white car drove up and parked alongside him -- with
two girls in it. Mike's heart sank a little; however, he got out of his
car anyway, as did both the girls. He realised that Carrie looked quite
different with her hair tied back.
"Hi there, Mike. This is Amber; Amber, this is Mike."
Amber, grinning, said, "Hi. Don't look so cheerfu!" and laughed.
Mike blushed as he realised his face must have given away his
feelings of disappointment. "Ah, sorry. Hi, both; didn't realise there
was to be a threesome!"
It was Carrie's turn to laugh. "Hey," she said, "You didn't get
*that* lucky! Amber and I share an apartment. She works at the club,
too, so we usually share a ride. She's going home; she's just dropping
me off here. Oh, and just in case you get any ideas, she wants to know
where we're going and what time I'm going to be home. She'll take your
licence plate details. Any funny business and she'll blow the whistle
on you!"
Now it was Mike who gave a relieved laugh, and said, "Well,
where do you suggest?"
The girls talked together for a moment, and then Carrie said,
"OK; Amber knows our plans. Let's go," and she walked round to the
passenger side of Mike's car and got in. Mike, a little surprised by
the decisive turn of events but happy to be led, grinned and waved to
Amber and got in as well. "Where to, milady?"
Giggling at Mike's sudden put on 'very English' accent, Carrie
said, "I'll show you," and directed Mike to a bar and dancing club a few
blocks away. They went in with Carrie holding Mike's hand as if she had
been his girlfriend forever. They sat down at a table back away from
the edge of the dance floor, where it was quiet enough for them to talk,
and talk they did. Of England and the UK generally; and of Texas and
California. Then they danced quietly and kissed in the clinches of the
smoochy numbers, and went back and talked some more.
Finally, reluctantly, they left, and Mike took Carrie back to
her shared apartment. He was invited in 'for a nightcap' and 'to attend
to some unfinished business'. Carrie gave Mike a beer and put some soft
music on before giving him a kiss on the end of his nose, saying, "Don't
go away."
Mike decided that was an instruction he would be happy to adhere
to. A couple of minutes later, Carrie appeared in a dress like the one
she had worn at the club, but this time, instead of wearing heels, she
was barefoot. As she came in, Mike stood up, but Carrie shooed him away
and sat him back down again, her hair once again loose down her back.
Again she danced to the music, and Mike was stunned by her sensuous
movement. She came to the chair where he was sat and allowed her hair
to dangle and brush against his face. He felt himself harden as the
unbelievably sexy dance continued.
Carrie again smoothed the dress against her contours, and Mike
realised he was getting the full treatment of the lap dance he had had
in the club, only this time the restrictions against taking part didn't
exist. Carrie snaked forward and kissed him, then started undoing the
buttons of his shirt. She rubbed his chest with her hands, scratching
his nipples with her fingernails, dancing and swaying all the time to
the music. Mike half-rose to take his shirt off, and Carrie pushed him
forcefully back into the seat. "My timing. My control," was all she
said. Mike decided he was content for her to call the shots. Again the
dress was slowly raised over Carrie's head, but this time, after it was
removed, it was discarded over a chair in the corner. Carrie came back
to Mike and kneeled to either side of his hips, half-sitting on his lap,
her breasts and nipples thrust into his face. Mike pulled her against
him, kissing and licking them as he ran his hands down her back and
cupped the globes of her ass in his hands, squeezing them gently.
Carrie moaned softly and moved back and off Mike's lap for the next
movement of the dance. She pulled his shirt off over his head as she
did so.
Turning round again, she bent forward, swaying her ass in front
of Mike's face. This time he held her cheeks in his fingers and ran his
thumbs down the crease, following the thong downwards. Carrie bent her
supple dancer's body forward as if to touch her toes, and Mike moved his
hands and slowly pulled the G-string downwards and off the swollen and
wet labia, now clearly visible from behind. He ran a finger down over
the bud of her anus and gently dipped it into the liquid slit of her
sex, moving it forward until he reached the hard sprouting tip of her
clit. She shuddered, now totally lost in the music and the moment, and
Mike thought she was going to fall. He pulled her back against him and
buried his face deep in the cleft before him. As Mike's tongue hit her
most sensitive of spots, Carrie shuddered again and almost collapsed
onto the floor, coming long and hard. Mike eased her gently to her
knees and then onto the floor, his face wet with her juices.
Carrie rolled onto her back and reached up to pull him down,
kissing him, tasting and licking his face as she did so. She pulled
him down on top of her, then rolled him over, attacking his belt and
the waistband of his trousers. She kneeled over him as she did so,
almost desperate in her urgency to get at his hard penis. Mike's
trousers finally submitted to her reckless movements, and it was to
Mike's total relief that she finally got them removed without either
ripping them or hurting either of them in her headlong rush. She sighed
with desire as she sank her lips over the tip of his organ, and now it
was Mike's turn to groan with the pleasure that was being given to him.
Again he ran his hands and then his tongue over Carrie's still dripping
but now gaping cunt; then, as he feared for the safety of what was going
on at the other end, he finally took charge. He pushed Carrie forward
until she was kneeling, and then he, in turn, got onto his knees behind
her. As Mike entered her, she slid forward until she was flat on the
floor, with Mike embedded in her as they moved, slowly at first, and
then gathering pace in the next stage of the age-old rhythm of the
dance. As he finally came, Mike thrust deep inside Carrie, and she,
too, shook violently yet again, squealing vocally as she did so.
As they lay there, now spooned together, their breathing and
heartbeats returning to rather less than it had been, they became aware
that there was a pair of naked feet close by. Mike, only dimly aware of
his surroundings, took in the fact that though they were there, they had
gone. There was the noise of a curtain being pulled and the feet came
back. A voice, vaguely recognisable as Amber, said sarcastically, "And
the Lady danced 'till dawn. Now will you two fuck off to bed and let me
get some sleep? Oh, and Mike, if you're looking to get the job of
boyfriend that *was* vacant, tough shit; I think it just got taken!"
Mike kissed Carrie gently on the cheek, "Have I passed the
audition?" he asked.
Carrie rolled over underneath him, put her arms around his neck
and returned the kiss. Then she grinned and said, "Hmm... don't know;
let's go somewhere a little more comfortable and I'll tell you after the
second dance."
Mike just groaned and shut his eyes.
The End
'And the Lady danced 'till Dawn'
(c) Sven the Elder - July '98
Lastly a dedication to Fred-Fan, my most excellent proofer and friend.
He has the wit, ability and kindness to alter things to reflect what I
meant to write in the first place. I have owed him a lot for some time
and I am pleased he has finally allowed himself to be recognised.
Thank you.
S
"Long may you want to - may you want to long" - old celtish wish.
Sven the Elder official Website & archive is now at
ftp://asstr.org/pub/Authors/sven/index.html