French Quarter by Lacey Alexander (small books to read .TXT) 📕

to its reputation. The large dance floor was filled with people dirty dancing—girls with guys, girls with other girls, touching, caressing, kissing, grinding. In a small dancer’s cage at one corner of the floor, two girls in skimpy halter tops and short skirts danced while sensually pumping their crotches together and French kissing, much to the crowd’s delight. Across the room at the opposite corner, a pretty girl danced in another cage, wowing the crowd by flashing her tits every few minutes. Liz watched, as finally—the girl took off her top and let it drop at her feet. The dance floor cheered the loss of her top and a guy joined her from below, starting a slow bump and grind with her.

Despite herself, Liz’s pussy throbbed. Yet she still felt sad, empty. She knew if Jack were here she might be inspired to join in the crowd’s debauchery, to excite herself, and moreover, to excite him. When she analyzed any and everything she’d done in Jack’s presence, exciting him was what excited her. Oh, certainly she’d enjoyed the lush indulgence of having two men lavish sexual attention on her, just as she’d enjoyed playing naughty little games with the girls at Club Venus, but Jack was the necessary ingredient. Without him, the recipe simply didn’t work—she simply didn’t want to be a bad girl if he wasn’t there to encourage it or enjoy it.

“Which one of you lovely ladies wants to get down and dirty with me on the dance floor?”

She and Lynda both looked up to see a guy in his early twenties with a sexy twinkle in his eye and a hot, muscular body visible beneath his simple t-shirt and jeans.

Lynda winked at her. “My friend, Liz, would love to dance with you.”

He flashed a killer smile designed to seduce, and held out a hand to Liz.

But despite how gorgeous he was, and how clearly interested in her he appeared to be, the idea of being with anyone other than Jack simply didn’t appeal, not even for a normal sort of dance, let alone a “down and dirty” one. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound gracious, “but I don’t really feel like dancing.”

He put on a persuasive look. “Come on, you’ll have fun. I promise.”

She had to be an idiot to pass this up. After all, wasn’t this what sexual freedom was about? In theory, she should be using the freedom she’d gained through Jack’s guidance to expand her horizons now with this new, very hot young guy—yet she just couldn’t. Something about it felt terribly wrong.

Ironic, she thought, given all the things she’d done recently that hadn’t felt wrong. But she knew it all came back to Jack. Fucking Ty had simply been fucking Jack in another way. Rubbing her pussy against Felicia had simply been rubbing her pussy against Jack in a different manner. It was Jack who made her want to be sexy and decadent, Jack who loosed all her inhibitions.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, “but Lynda here is always up for a good time. Aren’t you, Lynda?” She looked pointedly to her friend.

“Are you sure?” Lynda asked. “I have a feeling you’re missing out on something good.”

Liz forced a smile at both of them. “If I know you, you’ll enjoy it enough for both of us. Now go dance,” she finished, nudging Lynda’s thigh with her stocking-covered knee.

Finally, Lynda eased down off the bar stool and let young Mr. Hottie usher her onto the floor. Liz watched them disappear into the crowd, and then, for lack of anything better to do, she returned her attention to the topless chick and her new boy toy. The girl now gripped the cage’s vertical bars, arching her ass while the boy toy—now shirtless, too—pumped at her short skirt with the bulge in his blue jeans; simulated sex in time with the driving beat of the music.

“Hey there, sweet thing.”

The feminine voice came with a light touch on Liz’s arm. She looked up to find the lovely Felicia. Think of the devil and here she was, looking like sin itself in a tight, skimpy red dress that just barely covered her nipples.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me,” Felicia said, fists stabbing playfully at her hips.

Liz smiled politely. “Oh yes, don’t worry, I know who you are.”

Felicia’s grin turned hot, predatory, as she leaned to whisper in Liz’s ear. “The last time I saw you our sweet little pussies were pounding at each other.”

Liz’s cunt flinched, reluctantly excited at the memory. Her breasts turned achy and she knew her nipples had just hardened into buds against the bodice of her dress, a low cut pink confection that draped her body in all the right places.

Felicia flashed a seductive smile. Stepping closer, she tossed her long, dark mane over her shoulder, lowering her hand to a spot high on Liz’s thigh. Again, Liz’s pussy tingled against her will, even more when Felicia eased her fingers under the hem of Liz’s dress to play with the lace top of her stocking. “You want to dance with me?” she asked.

To her surprise, Liz was almost tempted. Her first foray into discovering her true sexual self had been with Felicia and the memories of how thrilling it had been to have Felicia’s lovely body move against hers remained fresh and strong. Images of Felicia’s big, beautiful breasts and her shaved pussy, all smooth and pouty, entered Liz’s head. The strong hurricanes she’d consumed tonight had her just intoxicated enough that maybe she could let go of her depression for a little while and indulge in what sexy Felicia had to offer. Maybe she could actually enjoy a little girl play without Jack. And maybe if she could make herself get down off this bar stool and grind against this hot woman on the dance floor, it would be a good first step to doing exactly what Lynda had wanted her to do tonight—find a distraction, start getting over Jack.

“I’m … not