Dancer, part 3

You took my hand, leading me to a sofa in the back of the club. Empty drinks were on the table, but no one was seated there. Pressing me down on my shoulder, you straddled my lap, facing me. Cradling my face, you kissed me deeply, hungrily. I turned my head, kissing your neck, tracing the outline of your little dress, cupping your breasts and finding your nipples. You slipped one spaghetti strap off your shoulder, tossing your head back, and cradled my head to your left nipple. I drank you greedily, insensible to the beat of the surrounding room.

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