Chapter 4: Dance Floor Seduction
The descent from the plush VIP lounge into the belly of the club was like diving into a warm, living ocean. The music wasn’t just heard; it was a physical pressure, a pounding in the chest that synced with the frantic stutter of the strobes. Bodies pressed from all sides, slick with sweat and euphoria.
Rory’s hand kept a firm hold of Chloe’s. He pulled her through the crush, using his shoulders to part the tide until they found a pocket of space. Here, the bass vibrated up through the floor, into the bones. The air was thick, humid, tasting of salt and spilled vodka-redbull.
He turned to face her, his body already moving with the rhythm. There was no asking. He simply closed the distance, his hands finding her hips, pulling her in until the full length of her was pressed against him. The thin satin of her dress was nothing against the hard muscle of his thighs, his abdomen. She gasped, her hands coming up to rest tentatively on his shoulders.
“See?” he shouted into the space beside her ear, his breath hot. “This is the real thing.”
His hips began to roll, a slow, deliberate grind against her. It was obscenely intimate, a blatant simulation that made her head swim. Her own body, timid at first, began to answer, a shy rocking motion that matched his. The friction was electric, sparking a heat low in her belly that spread like spilled ink.
“What about Sarah?” she managed to yell back, her voice thin against the sonic wall. Her eyes searched his face, which was carved in shadows and sudden flashes of light. “Aren’t you worried? Leaving her with those… guys? Or jealous? She seemed to be... into them.”
Rory’s laugh was a vibration she felt through his chest. He leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin below her ear. “It's sexy. Knowing other guys want her. If you don't want men fancying your woman, you need to find a less attractive woman.”
"And what about her? If she facies them."
"He laughed, if she's feeling horny I'll benefit in the end."We go to clubs, she dresses up and gets attention It's very sexy. "
"I see." She said confused. "Where did you meet Mari-Liis then. She 's very cool and glamorous."
He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. The strobe caught his eyes, making them seem to flicker with a dark, knowing light. “We met Mari-Liis and her friends at a party in Vauxhall. Very private party, very glamorous crowds, upmarket. The kind with dressing up, cabarets, flirting, hooking up, dark rooms and private afterparties...”
The meaning unspooled in Chloe’s mind, vivid and shocking. Her rhythm faltered for a second. “What? Like a swingers’ club?”
“Not when we met M-L, but we have been,” Rory said, looking at her and chuckling, his hands sliding from her hips to the small of her back, pressing her even tighter. “Fetish nights. They're great fun. We met her and her ex-boyfriend and went back to theirs for after parties ” He gave a slow, deep thrust of his pelvis against hers, making her breath catch. “This is quite tame and subdued in comparison. Actually that's not right, it's different though. You should come with us some time.”
The confession didn’t repel her. It ignited something. It painted Sarah not as cheating, but as accomplice. It made Rory more dangerous, more desirable. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.
“So she won’t mind us... dancing?” Chloe asked, the question barely a whisper lost in the drop of the track.
“Mind?” Rory’s smile was wolfish. “She’s probably getting groped by a handsy Italian right now, but she will be wondering about us.”
He grinned. His hands moved down, over the curve of her ass, kneading through the satin. “Is Robbie watching, do you think?” he murmured, his mouth against her temple. “From up there? Can he see me squeezing his girlfriend’s arse?”
She glanced back toward the vague direction of the balcony, a mess of darkness and sporadic laser lights. “I… I don’t know.”
“Does it turn you on?” he pressed, one hand leaving her ass to trail up her side, his thumb brushing the side of her breast. “The thought of him seeing?"
Chloe didn’t answer. But gave a slight almost imperceptible nod. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails biting through the cotton of his shirt. That was answer enough.
Rory took it as permission. His hand, his hand firmly cupping her arse and moving to just above her bum cheek. He leaned close to her ear. “You are wearing knickers.”
"Of course I'm wearing knickers," she laughed. He felt downwards below waistband where the material immediately vanished between her arse cheeks.
"Not very big ones though!"
"So? I'm in holiday, I'm out having fun."
"Are you having fun?"
"Yes," she replied.
"And, so i can complete the image, what about the shaving?" He smiled mischievously.
The question hovered in the humid air between them. Chloe’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in mock outrage that was undercut by the hungry way her body still moved against his. The strobe light froze them for a second: his expectant grin, her flustered blush.
“You are fucking outrageous,” she finally breathed out, laughing, but the sound was swallowed by a synth crash. She kept dancing with him.
“I trim,” she finally conceded, her voice a husky shout near his ear. She spun away and danced with her back to him wiggling her bum suggestively, then feeling both excited and her confidence rising turned back an leaned into his ear “a small triangle... Just above my pussy.”
"Your pussy? Sexy. I've now I've got the full vision. Naked. Just those sexy gold heels on."
"Do you like it? Your full picture" she teased.
"What do you think?" He pulled he tightly into him at the waist. His cock hard an thick though his pants obvious as it ground against he lower belly.
"Oh!" she said. "Wow"
The single syllable hung in the humid air between them, a stunned acknowledgement of the hard, insistent pressure against her stomach. He looked over her shoulder
“You did that,” he said, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of her thighs. “And your boyfriend is up on the VIP balcony watching.”
“Oh shit, did he see us dancing and flirting” she breathed.
"I think so. You're flirting, I"m hitting on you, it's different." He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, lingering a fee seconds, knowing Robbie was watching. He pushed his tongue onto her mouth and Chloe opened her mouth and kissed back passionately. "Let's get a drink, he won't be able to see us round here at the bar!"
He guided her through the press of damp t-shirts and glitter-dusted skin, his hand a firm anchor on the small of her back. The bar area was marginally quieter. Bodies lined the glossy black surface, reaching for drinks with frantically waving cash.
Rory shouldered a space for them, his body shielding hers from the jostling crowd. "Two large vodka limons!" he shouted at the harried bartender, sliding a crumpled fifty-euro note across the wet surface.
When the drinks came, he passed one to her, and smiled. He didn't step back to give her room. Instead, he turned, pinning her gently between his body and the cool edge of the bar. The crush of the crowd did the rest, sealing them together.
He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear so he wouldn't have to shout. "So," he said. His hips pressed forward, leaving no doubt. The hard, thick line of his erection strained against his trousers, a persistent heat against her lower belly. "Are you going to take any responsibility for what you've done to my cock?"
Chloe’s grip tightened on her cold glass. She took a swift gulp, the vodka burning a path down her throat that did nothing to cool the other fire he’d lit. She could feel him hard and thick. "I have a boyfriend," she said, the reminder sounding weak. "Up there. Remember?"
"I remember." His breath was hot on her neck. "I also remember he was trying to chat up my wife and her glamourous sexy friends while we were all talking."
She flushed, the truth of it undeniable. "He's not... like you and Sarah. He’s not broadminded like that." Her eyes darted up, searching the dark balcony, but it was just a silhouette from this angle. "He’d have a total meltdown."
Rory’s chuckle was a dark, vibrating thing. "do you think? I don't think he would." He shifted deliberately, grinding himself against her once, a slow, undeniable roll of his hips. "trying to chat up Sarah, watching me dance with and kiss you, not doing anything. We've been to sexy clubs seen, how some guys are. I think it secretly turns him on."
Chloe’s free hand, as if acting on its own, drifted down from the bar. Her fingertips brushed the hard ridge of him through the fabric of his trousers, a fleeting, exploratory touch. She felt him jerk in response, a sharp intake of breath above her. "Gosh," she whispered, more to herself than to him, her eyes wide. "It feels... big."
“A bit bigger?” Rory murmured into her hair, his voice thick. He didn’t move away from her touch. He pushed into it.
Her fingers curled, applying a hesitant pressure. She could feel the contours, the heat, the weight. A bolt of pure, illicit excitement shot through her, making her knees weak. “Yes. I shouldn’t be doing this.” she said taking her hand off.
“You're a bad girl,” he said. The term was possessive, patronizing, and it sent a shocking thrill straight to her core. Chloe’s mind was a riot. The feel of his hand stroking her thigh, the memory of the hard shape in his trousers, the knowledge that Robbie and Sarah were somewhere in this same building. It was terrifying and exhilarating. She sought a question, anything to anchor herself.
“What you said before… about the clubs, dressing up,” she began, her voice unsteady, changing the subject. “What does Sarah wear? ”
Rory’s smile was a white flash in the dark. “Curious?” His hand slid higher, his fingertips brushing the lacy edge of her tiny knickers. She jerked, a soft moan escaping her. “She has a whole wardrobe. Lingerie. Leather. Latex."
He pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen’s glow lit his face, making his expression look both focused and predatory. He swiped, tapped, and then turned the phone towards her.
Chloe leaned in, her breath catching. The first photo was a burst of vivid color and skin. It was Sarahs in what looked like a luxurious, dimly lit hallway, all dark wood and mirrors. She wore a corset of gleaming white and red latex that cinched her waist brutally, pushing her breasts up into dramatic, creamy mounds that spilled over the top. The corset met a minuscule matching red sheer thong. red torn stockings were held up by sharp garters and on top of towering red heels. Her hair was swept up, her lips a dark, matching red, and her eyes looked directly at the camera with a challenge that was both fierce and inviting. She was leaning against a wall, one knee bent, a sharp stiletto heel digging into the carpet. Mari-Liis stood beside her in a full-body harness of black leather over lacy black lingerie, smirking at the camera.
“Oh my God,” Chloe whispered. Sarah looked a goddess of sex, confident, powerful, utterly unashamed.
Rory swiped. Another. Sarah on a plush velvet sofa, the crimson latex replaced by sheer black lace. She was on her knees, her back arched, looking over her shoulder at the camera. Someone’s hand was tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to tilt her head back. The expression on her face was one of complete, decadent surrender.
A third swipe. A wider shot at a party. Sarah, in a tight black vinyl dress that ended mid-thigh and exposed her breasts and pierced nipples, was laughing, a champagne flute in hand. Around her were other women—Lena, Anya, others—in similar states of provocative undress. Men in leather, latex and fishnet mingled amongst them. The atmosphere crackled with a raw, transactional energy.
Chloe stared, mesmerized and slightly dizzy. Her own little sequined dress felt childish, naive. “She’s… she looks amazing,” she finally breathed.
“Yep,” Rory said with pride as he pocketed his phone. “It’s a different world. No pretence. Fun, sexually charged.” He let his gaze travel slowly down Chloe’s body, the simple dress now seeming like a placeholder. “You should definately come.”
Chloe’s heart hammered against her ribs. The idea was ludicrous, terrifying. She shook her head, a nervous laugh escaping her. “I couldn’t. Can you imagine Robbie?"”
“Not really, i didn't invite him" he laughed.
Her eyes widened. “Why do you want me to go?" She challenged him, knowing the answer.
“I want to see you dressed up,” Rory said, the words not cruel, but dismissive, as if brushing away a minor inconvenience. “Inhibitions down, looking awesome, get you into a dark cornet, take you back to an afterparty, fuck you.”
"You really are a very bad influence." She smiled. Rory's phone buzzed. It was a messagev from Sarah.
Sarah: How are getting on with your little sexy friend? Anys and Lena have had to go meet friends. They invited me but I'm fine here with Marco and Fabrizio, my own sexy friends, so don't worry about me! They are HOT!! And VERY bad. I think they both want me!! Robbie is sulking as they've left and I'm being monopolised by these two. He's hanging out here in the VIP.
There was a selfie picture, Sarah grinning between the two guys both arms round her and Marco groping her thigh. Her plunging neckline hanging open displaying the curve of her breasts.
Rory showed Chloe the screen, the image glowing between them. Sarah’s hungry smile, the possessive hands on her, it all screamed sex.
"Oh Wow. So, erm, what sort of things do you like?" She asked, nervous but clearly keen to know.
"Sex?", he replied. She nodded.
"Well, as you can see dressing up. And you can tell I get a kick out of other men interested in Sarah."
"Interested?"
Rory looked Chloe in the eye, he smiled. "Wanting her. Having really wild dirty sex with her. It's a real turn on. Can you imagine that."
She paused "I think so." She said quietly
"And i loved having sex with someone else's wife or girlfriend. Making them watch, her getting more kinky with me than she has been before with them."
Rory’s words hung between them, a gauntlet thrown on the sticky bar. Chloe’s glass felt slippery in her hand. The bassline pounded in her teeth, a rhythmic counterpoint to the frantic beat of her own heart. She imagined it: being that other woman, watched, desired, taken by a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
“You’re serious,” she said, not a question. Her voice sounded foreign to her, low and thrumming with a nervous energy.
"Oh yes. A lot of this is to do with is power in sex. Consensual power. Some call it submission and dominance. Some call it obedience. One partner taking control. Especially if one partner is relatively inexperienced and new. If you have to obey, you can let go of you inhibitions, you don't need to feel ashamed or embarrassed about something. You're just doing what your told. It's not your fault what happens, you had no control."
He paused waiting for her as she looked at him breathing deeply. "I think you'd enjoy having to obey, wouldn't you?"
"Yes." She breather, almost imperceptibly.
"I'll give you an example. Text Robbie. Tell him where we are and to come down."
She reached into her bag, got her phone out and typed a message.
Her thumbs trembled slightly as she typed. At the main bar near the left pillar. Can you come down? X She showed the screen to Rory, who gave a single, approving nod before sending it.
"What are you going to do?" she asked nervously.
“Now,” he said, taking her glass and placing it with his on the bar. His hands returned to her hips, turning her to face the dancing crowd. “We wait. And you keep dancing with me.”
The music swelled, a cascading synth line. He pulled her back against his chest, his arms a cage around her. One hand splayed possessively across her stomach, holding her tight. The other drifted lower, his fingers tracing the hem of her dress where it met her thigh. He resumed that slow, undeniable grind. His erection, harder now, pressed against the cleft of her ass through their clothing.
“He’s going to see,” Chloe breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder. Her body was betraying her, melting into his rhythm.
“That's fine,” Rory said, his mouth at her ear. His exploring fingers slipped under the fabric of her dress, onto the bare skin of her thigh. It was shockingly intimate. “He’s going to see my hand on you and I think his cock will get rock hard.”
She wanted to protest, to pull away, but her limbs felt heavy with a warm, syrupy lassitude. The chaos of the club receded. There was only the beat, the heat of him, and the slow, deliberate ascent of his hand. His fingertips brushed the lace edge of her knickers. A jolt, sharp and electric, made her gasp.
Robbie appeared in front of them, his mouth hung open. "Wait here." He said to Chloe and walked up to Robbie. "Hi Robbie, he said easily. "How'd you get on with the girls upstairs? My wife and the others"
Robbie laughed nervously, "Yeah, they're great fun." He looked over Rory's shoulder to Chloe.
"Listen mate, Chloe wants to go somewhere else. I'm going to take her. Do you want to come or stay here?"
His bravado returned, but seemed a bit forced. "Yeah sure, buddy. Where to?"
"Actually we're thinking your hotel." Robbie looked confused.
"Why? Is she ok? Is she ill or something?"
"No she's fine. She really wants to have sex." Now Robbie was looking blank, but the meaning was becoming clearer.
"What? What do you mean?" he looked blank. "Who with?"
"With me Robbie. Your girlfriend wants me to fuck her. We've been having a bit of a sexy chat. She's really excited. The atmosphere up in the VIP with the other girls and sarah. We've been talking about some kinky stuff, she's a dark horse, has a really kinky side! Anyway, we're going, Chloe's keen for you to come and watch. That's one of the kinks we've talked about.... Are you coming?"
Robbie stood, shocked not moving. The wait seemed interminable but Rory just held his eyes, smiling.
"Yeah, OK, I'll come." He said quietly.
"Great!" Rory said brightly, "You'll have a great time. Chloe definitely will."
He went back to her. "Robbie wants to come and watch us fuck. You are still keen for that?"
She looked at Robbie. "Yes. i want him to watch."