Dance Sans Novels & Stories

I couldn't stop trembling from the pleasure. Henry pulled out a pair of scissors and quickly cut my thong away. The cool air only made my sex feel even hotter. I stared at Henry in shock. Wasn't this too revealing? No matter what, I was still his client. How could he be so rude? Sensing my confusion, he said, "Relax. This allows better circulation, and the negative energy within your body can be released." I felt a mix of shyness and fear. Henry gently rested his hand on me to reassure me as the tingling sensation kept surging through me.

In a skip, she began twerking faster than she had ever done – her watery ass dropping and slapping against each other. She got down on the floor as though she was fucking it and slapped her ass against the floor – twerking in that position. Dashiell had forgotten his food by now. And was already pulling down his trousers. “Keep it on. I want to give you a lap dance. And he obeyed.

- I don't know if I'm a dance fan, Dayane - I shout after pulling her to talk close to her. I think I screamed too loud because she put her hand to her ear in pain. - Stop calling me Dayane, we're already friends. Call me Day anyway - I nodded - And don't worry, just move that hip back and forth and there's no mistake, if you want you can even jump up and down to relax. Just don't try to make radical moves so you don't embarrass yourself. - He says and I try a little awkwardly - Almost there, just relax and follow the music.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, and that familiar smirk was just as charming as I remembered. “Damon,” I breathed, a mix of surprise and nostalgia washing over me. “It’s been...what? Seventeen years?” “Something like that,” he replied, leaning casually against the table. “You look amazing, by the way. That dress? It’s definitely a showstopper.” I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, you know.” “Still showing off that strong side i see,” he teased, making my heart flutter.“But I’ve always had a weakness for strong women.”

As I listened to Shane, I realized that he still carried a bit of insecurity. He felt inferior about having little influence in this region, and even though he had built up considerable success in the mining industry, he still felt unworthy of me. "But Anthony is even less worthy of you," Shane said. He continued, "What good is a blind professional dancer anyway? She doesn't have your education, your looks, or your figure. As for family background, she's nothing compared to you. Putting the two of you side by side is just cruel."

"Get me another shirt… the gray one." With practiced ease, he stripped off the white shirt he had just put on and raised his hand toward me, waiting, as he always did, for me to hand him the freshly pressed one. The phone screen still glowed. I caught sight of Janine’s message: "Mr. Quinn, tonight’s event requires a gray suit." The professional tone was undercut by a playful cat emoji that followed right after. "What are you staring at? Where’s the shirt?" When I didn’t respond, irritation hardened his features.

The man paused briefly, then nodded and smiled, saying, “Yes, You’re right. My name is Cassian Blackwood.” I shook hands with him, “Hello, I’m Seraphina Vance. I accompanied my sister to study fine arts here for two years, but it’s been so long since I’ve painted.” I laughed at myself, “I’ve probably almost forgotten everything.” Cassian just held up a hand slightly, as if to say no.‌

I have to keep this distance. The dance between Fuschia and Dylan began under the moonlight whose color resembles the golden color of Dylan's eyes. Actually, it can't be called a dance because Dylan only swings his body front and back, or right and left using his sword steps. But still, it was a beautiful thing that she allowed to intoxicate her. The faint sound of music playing from inside the hall washed away the two of them. Dylan drew Fuschia's waist closer to him, and he whispered in her ear. “I know nothing about etiquette, so if you want to dance, tell me. Don't tell other men or…”

“It’s not even in sync with the music.” “Damn, you really don’t like my dance moves huh?” I stopped from dancing and I was already catching my breath. It was about time that the music was reeling to an end and then it suddenly changed to Careless Whisper. The intro of the music was overtly sensual, kind of dirty and I just thought of something naughty almost immediately. I began dancing like I’m inside a club for male strippers, waving my entire body from my chest to my stomach going down under. I made sure that the moves I made enhanced my muscles. August was just quiet and stern that made it somehow difficult for me to read his thoughts.