I'd been sitting in this booth in the hotel's club lounge for about half an hour now, nursing a scotch and surveying the couples on the dance floor at the other end. It was a motley bunch that lurked in the muted lighting and pastel tones of the place - a sprinkling of couples but mostly single men. Looked to be commercial travellers or business types, unwinding with a few nightcaps and wondering what to do with themselves before it was time to turn in. The couples were dancing to a soul/R&B sound system, observed by the singles who mainly just sat back and drummed their fingers to the music.
Then she walked in.
My eyes, and those of several others, tracked her progress to the bar.
We took in her slim elegant figure, adorned in an alluring dress of simple cut - your "basic little black number". Noted her stiletto heels, dark shoulder-length hair, and the way her bare shoulders and limbs gleamed in the lighting. She was showing a lot of leg, and to me her legs looked great.
She took up a position on a barstool from which she too could survey the dance floor. The barman came and took her order but, before she could even open her purse, some knight-errant from further up the bar sprang forward and paid for it.
"Shit!" I thought to myself, "Didn't take long for that to happen!"
This gallant predictably settled down beside her, and small talk was exchanged. Then a few minutes later they were up and he was leading the way to the dance floor.
She acted cool, not looking at him directly, while they bounced and jived in the usual obligatory fashion to a fairly up-tempo number. Her skirt flounced and swirled as she moved.
The next tune was slow and smoochy, and I was intrigued to see what would happen now. Sure enough, he moved in close and held her ballroom-style, holding one of her hands in the air and clasping her around the small of her back with the other. That hand was stationary at first, but slipped lower and lower onto her backside. She didn't react or pull away, and after a time his hand could be seen making slow movements, rubbing her rear. It didn't seem to bother her.
I stifled a smile, and got up to freshen my drink. Settling back into my seat, I glanced across again and saw that their bodies were pressed pretty firmly together at crotch level. So much so, that you would not have been able to get a bus ticket between the two of them. Their situation was fairly exposed so they couldn't get too indecent, but he was clearly copping a good feel of her ass and doubtless had a large boner squeezed up against her tummy by now.
Towards the end of the song he attempted to kiss her, but she averted her face. As the music faded she broke away and headed to the Ladies. Lancelot couldn't just stand there like an idiot, so was forced to go and sit at the bar again.
When she returned, she didn't re-join him. She went and sat at the other end of the bar, as far from him as possible, it seemed. She raised her hand to attract the barman's attention, and another red-blooded male seized his chance to buy her a drink. This fellow was a bit younger than the other, and reasonably handsome. Again, another few minutes of conversation, before he decided it was time to try his luck on the dance floor.
More jiving to brisk tempos, while occasionally brushing against each other. Her jiggling chest betrayed bra-lessness - something she could do without too much bother, since she'd been blessed with quality rather than quantity.
Now the moment he'd been waiting for - a slow number. I smiled in amusement to myself and took another sip of scotch as I watched the two of them snuggle together in time-honoured fashion. He had both hands around her waist, and it didn't take long before they were exploring regions south. Once there, he couldn't seem to take them away - his hands remained clamped to her butt cheeks as if drawn by magnets, and by song's end she could consider her rear well and truly caressed.
Her face remained expressionless, and their gazes never met each other directly, but below the midriff it was as if they'd known each other for years. His hips were doing a slow grind against her pelvis, and it was fortuitous for him that her stilettos raised her to a height where his hard-on could press her in a very intimate spot.
Many sets of eyes around the room were fixed upon this pair as they perambulated about the dance floor, moving against each other in discreet fuck motions. She clung tightly to him - he gently rubbed and bumped.
That song faded out and she broke away. He waited and wondered what was happening, but she teetered on her heels over to a booth where she'd clearly spotted someone more interesting. He was older than the others, greying but exquisitely dressed and very distinguished-looking. She bent and murmured something in his ear, and next she was leading him by the hand to the dance floor. That's one way to tell someone their time is up - just go ask another one for a dance!
By this time almost every half-sober single male in the place was switched on to what was happening. We seemed to be staring into space over our drinks, but really we were craning our necks between other dancing couples to check on the progress of this latest pairing.
This gentleman started out cool like the others, but then I saw her tilt her head up and whisper something in his ear. Moments later he had a hand on her backside, and his rubbing and stroking was hard to disguise.
The side of the lounge where I was sitting was darker and less populated than the other side. It wasn't long before the cunning devil had steered her into this deeper gloom, not very far from me. This allowed me to see that, as he turned his right side to the wall, he'd slip his hand around from her rear to the front of her dress. Just pass it casually to her groin and sandwich it there between them for a few moments, before sliding out and back again as their dancing had them turn back the other way. The dirty old bastard was fondling her pubes! Oh well, good on him. I wished I could be doing the same right then.
I definitely have a voyeuristic streak in me, and the sight of their surreptitious petting was getting me hot. I had to get a dance with her, and I had to do it quick before someone else tried to jump her bones. At the rate she was going, there'd end up being a gang-bang in the lobby!
As the song faded out, I stood up and approached them.
"Excuse me. I'd like to cut in here, if I may."
"Take a hike!" he said curtly, in a tone that sounded a lot less distinguished than he looked.
"By all means!" she sweetly contradicted, and then, to her companion of the moment, "Please excuse me."
I led her by the hand to the dancefloor. Mercifully the tempo was suitable for holding her close, and she easily fitted in against my body.
.... There is more of this story ...