Vicky's dancing gets heated

Vicky

Vicky loved dancing with Alkim. She’d handed him the aux enough times to know this wasn't exactly his kind of music, but you’d never be able to tell from the way he danced to it.

She watched through dazzled eyes, as he shuffled those black shoes with speed and grace that belied his normally loud, thumping steps that could be heard from anywhere in the house.

He had a rare talent for keeping up with any beat. Whatever the genre, whatever the speed, he could sync up his hips and legs to the tune like some gender-bent Shakira. Steps, shuffles, hip twirls, drops. His pace was frantic, but so was this song.

She had to shout over the music to make herself heard.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never taken lessons!”

But Alkim just smirked, rolled his shoulders, and continued dancing like a maniac. They’d had this conversation before, and he’d sworn up and down that he’d never even tried dancing before he started clubbing at twenty with a fake ID.

Sometimes Alkim reminded Vicky of her brother, Joshua, but that was mostly just because he’d literally been in her brother’s class, and they were both nerdy in their own ways. Yet the resemblances went no further. Where her brother was quiet and conservative, Alkim was loud and irreverent. Where her brother was closed-minded, Alkim was curious and loved trying new things. Where her brother had judged Vicky and sided with her parents, Alkim had never once looked down on her for bartending, stripping, or even escorting.

He was clearly smart as hell, but he didn’t condescend; he never made her feel like a dumb bimbo, or a burnout. When she’d admitted that after moving here she’d resorted to stripping, Alkim never judged her, just smiled and cheerfully admitted that he was selling **** out of his university apartment.

With Alkim, none of the anti-women words carried even a hint of malice; bitch, hoe, whore, and slut were as soft and endearing as air-blown kisses, especially slut. None of the boys she’d grown up with would have ever let Vicky call them “slut,” even ironically. Alkim had not just embraced the nickname, he’d turned it into their mutual greeting.

“What up sluuuuut?”

She loved the timbre of it, the depth, the bass.

He has such a sexy voice.

College had changed him, for sure. At first she’d been shocked to discover that nerdy, awkward boy from her high school had grown into one of the biggest party animals she’d ever met.

But after spending some time together, she came to understand that Alkim was the kind of person that, if he was going to do something, he wanted to do it well. It only made sense that he would treat doing and selling **** like just another class to study for. Now, he knew all the best and worst **** combos, how long they lasted, and, most importantly, where to get the good stuff.

And it seemed to Vicky like dancing was another thing he refused to do badly.

Right then, he was the picture of the perfect gentleman, the perfect dance partner. Where she led, he followed. When she grabbed his hand, he always knew exactly what she wanted: a twirl, a pull, a dip. He was always ready, always composed, and, despite his speed, he never stepped on her toes.

Slowly, space had cleared up around them. Couples and mingling singles alike had stepped back to give the dynamic duo some extra room to move, and Vicky intended to make use of every inch.

The song changed from fast house music to something a tad more subdued, something they could dance to more slowly, and they drew closer together.

Vicky grabbed Alkim’s damp hand, and spun away from him, letting her momentum roll her out like a carpet. At her zenith, she could see that all his energetic dancing had left his entire body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, yet Vicky found she didn’t mind. Alkim was getting a real workout in, and he looked nice with a little shine, a nice polish, like an ethnically ambiguous Bruce Lee, fresh from the fight. They circled each other like that; him smiling with those perfect teeth of his, and a second later she was gliding into his embrace.

Her ass was backed into his crotch, and his arms wrapped around her bare abs. She felt his strong hands shift to her waist and instinctively leaned into it. Then he squeezed; lightly at first, then with just enough possessiveness that Vicky felt a tiny bit of her breath being stolen.

She scented him them; a fragrant mix of aftershave and his own sweaty, testosterone-rich musk. There were no individual components that she could say smelled better than any other guy’s body odor, yet she still found the sweat, and the scent, every bit as comforting as his touch.

Vicky instinctively began moving again, grinding the firm curves of her ass into his groin.

That was one of the things she loved most about their friendship. There was no danger with Alkim, no risk of misunderstandings, or hurt feelings. They flirted, they teased, but he never expected anything more serious, and never got frustrated when she didn’t take things further.

Tonight was far from the first time she’d grinded on him at the club. Still, that bulge in his pants felt more… substantial than she remembered.

Mmmm. Quite the piece. Did he mean it when he said he wasn’t trying to get laid tonight? No, that doesn’t mean anything. It’s totally normal for grinding to give him a boner.

They stayed like that for a while, just another vivacious couple out of the dozens that turned out and turned up for the evening. Then the music picked back up, and once again, Vicky and Alkim turned up the heat.

Alkim gave Vicky some space, if only so that they could keep from tripping over each other’s moves, but Vicky found her hands kept seeking him out anyway.

Suddenly, everything got brighter, and that sheen on Alkim took on an almost golden glow. It took her a moment before she realized they were literally under the spotlight. Whoever was running the club lights had seen them dancing together and must have thought, “Yes! That’s the perfect couple to spotlight! Everyone needs to see them dance!”

Vicky imagined how they looked in the eyes of other clubgoers: in her heels they were exactly of a height, eye to eye, with her bare thighs weaving in and out of his space.

A cursory glance confirmed her suspicions. No one of the other couples could match their energy, their synergy, their raw magnetism. She mentally tallied all the staring eyes, the approving nods, the envious lip bites from both sexes.

In fact, now that she was really watching, she finally noticed the club photographer hovering at the edge of the dance floor, maintaining a clear line of sight with her and Alkim.

If only Kate stuck with us…

If there was one thing photographers could not resist, it’s big tits in motion. Yet, Vicky knew she was no slouch in that department, either.

It was just like Leah said, they want promotional photos.

The idea that she and Alkim were good enough to advertise the VIP experience was another hit of blow to her ego. Vicky was more than happy to provide.

Showtime!

She turned around, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tried to whisper her request into his ear.

“What?” he yelled.

She pointed over at the photographer, and yelled back, “Just follow my lead!”

Vicky moved his hands to her waist, lifted her right leg (the one with the thigh slit), and wrapped it around his back. Then, she arched her back, putting her body on display with Alkim as her improvised stripper pole, supporting and spinning her around.

She was satisfied to see they still had the photographer’s full attention, but she wasn’t done yet.

After a few rotations, Vicky stood back upright, grabbed Alkim’s hands from her waist, and, on the strangest impulse, placed them around her neck. His masculine fingers wrapped over her choker, but his grip was tentative, like he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do.

She smiled at his naivete, his shyness, his **** to hurt her. It was sweet, and it should have been the perfect antidote to her weeks of living with an abusive, insecure asswipe that beat her for nothing. Yet a gentle touch is not what Vicky found herself craving.

With her hands around his, she pushed them together, tighter, and tighter still, until his fingers were nearly touching. She encouraged him to squeeze from the sides, constricting the vessels in her neck, but not her airways: she didn’t want to stop breathing, to stop smelling him.

Yesss…

She felt it within seconds. It was that same heady, endorphin-rich high that she’d come to love over the years; yet, somehow, Alkim’s hands magnified the effect. She loved it, allowing him to hold her steady as she threw her hands in the air, and indulged in some sensual dance-****, gyrating and twerking for the camera.

Eventually, the song came to a close, the spotlight moved on to another couple, and Alkim loosened his grip around her neck.

But she needed more.

Vicky got even closer to Alkim and squeezed her hands around his, telling him not to let go. Once again, she wrapped her leg around his waist, only this time she plastered her upper body against his and instinctively began grinding her pussy against the waistline of his pants.

Mmmmm… just like that…

“Oh, wow…” said Alkim.

Vicky barely heard him, she was too focused on the throbbing between her legs.

“Please… don’t stop… don’t stop… I need this… I need this…”

Alkim raised his eyebrows, but made no move to separate.

This wasn't much of a dance anymore. In fact, from the outside, it probably looked like they were fucking standing up, but Vicky didn’t care. She was hardly thinking at all, and moved only to satisfy her body’s urges.

It’s not weird to do this with Alkim; he would never take advantage…

She didn’t recall moving her face to meet his, but the next thing she knew she was kissing him on the cheek. Then, she kissed the other one, and not a moment later, she was kissing him on the lips.

Ohhhh wooooow…

That one kiss was almost supernaturally intense. A flood of positivity swept over her mind and body, like everything good in her world was magnified tenfold, including the sensitivity of her clit.

Vicky came: she came right there on the dance floor with Alkim’s hands around her neck, her pussy on his bulge, and their lips mashed together. They were too closely entwined to disguise her moans of pleasure from him, or anyone else within a few feet. But disguising her feelings wasn't her intent; all she wanted was to prolong this moment.

Yet just before she could slip her tongue into his, Alkim pulled back, breaking their lip contact, and shifting his hands from her neck down to her waist.

He whistled lightly, “Wow. That was, uh…”

“Hmmm?”

It took a few seconds for the fog of lust to clear from Vicky’s mind.

Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that!

“Oh! Sorry! I should have asked first! I just wanted to thank you for everything, and for being the perfect dance partner… I don’t know what came over me…”

“Never said I didn’t enjoy it, just caught me off guard, is all.”

She laid her head down on his shoulder and took a long deep breath.

Even though so many of their interactions and conversations were about sex, he was never really the object of her desire. This was just supposed to be two friends sharing a very special dance. Cheek kissing? Totally normal. Lip kissing, ****, and frontal grinding? That seemed a bit much for even her.

Yet now that it was over, she felt remarkably calm, calmer than she’d felt in weeks, and she wondered if maybe her old (admittedly minimal) boundaries were no longer necessary with Alkim.

She hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Alkim. Really. This is the best homecoming present I could have asked for.”

He squeezed back around her waist, “You’re so fucking welcome, Vicky.” Then he broke off the hug and started fanning his chest with his shirt. “Whew, now I could really go for an ice-cold drink.”

She slid a hand down his chest, finding the fabric of his shirt was damp from collarbone to abdomen.

“I’ll say! You’re sweating like a pig.”

Alkim laughed, “Pigs can’t sweat! That’s why they like mud. Humans are by far the sweatiest animals, that’s why we can-”

She shut him up with a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh, drinks before animal facts. C’mon.”

He blushed just a little. “Right, yeah.”

She looped her arm around his and escorted him to the bar. They sat down together and ordered some frozen margaritas to help them cool off, staying within sight of the dance floor, but far enough away that they could hear each other talk.

There were a lot of other changes to the house that Alkim had deliberately left out, and Vicky was keen to get to the full scoop.

“So, when did you and Mikaella start hooking up?”

Alkim’s eyes bugged out, like a deer in headlights.

“Me and Mikaella? No waaaay, we’re just friends. Housemates.”

Vicky rolled her eyes.

“Come on, bish, no more lies: I can read the signs. Last night she could barely keep her hands off you, and before we left she looked like she was about to cry until you whispered something in her ear. After that, she was practically glowing. What else am I supposed to think?”

Alkim opened his mouth to lie, then sighed and held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, yeah, you got me. We’ve been messing around.”

Vicky propped up her chin with the palm of her hand.

“How long?”

He gasped theatrically, “Vicky! It’s not polite to ask for a gentleman’s length!”

She cuffed him on the shoulder. “You know what I meant!”

He laughed, “We only started, like, a week or two ago.”

“So, not that long then. And how do you feel about dating a sugar baby? Are you really okay sharing her with another man?”

“Well, that’s the thing. She’s not a sugar baby anymore.”

“Really? Mikaella got a new job? Good for her! What’s she doing now?”

Alkim grimaced, like he’d said too much.

“I’m not sure she’d want me to tell everyone…”

“C’mon, ho, you’re not telling everyone; you’re telling me.”

She slid a hand over his and interlocked their fingers. Alkim considered that for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright, might as well tell you. Kate already knows, and she wanted to cut you in at some point.”

“Cutting me in on what?” Oh, shit. “Please, please tell me you’re not using Mikaella to sell **** out of the house!”

“What? No! I’d never drag her into that.”

“Good, good. Just had to be sure.”

“Well, now I don’t feel as bad telling you the real thing.”

“So, tell me already.”

Alkim took another sip of his drink, like he needed to build up courage before confessing.

“When I said I shot some modeling stuff for Mikaella, that wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Her sugar daddy wanted her to get a boobjob before he renewed her contract”

“Oh, noooo. That’s so scummy.”

“Yeah, so she quit, and then we started fucking around. It got pretty hot and heavy, she seemed to enjoy herself a lot, and I thought ‘Hey, we could both use some money, and she already does sex work: why don’t I just ask her if she’d be down to record a blowjob video together?’”

“And she said yes?”

“On the spot. She was immediately down.” Alkim grinned. “Like, she went down on me immediately.”

“Wooooow.” Vicky took a long swill of her drink.

“Seriously, you would not believe how much Mikaella loves giving head.”

“You’re right, I don’t think I would.”

“I’m dead serious. Like, she volunteers to blow me constantly, even gets all pouty if I’m too busy to say yes. It’s crazy.”

That did sound crazy, and nothing like the Mikaella she’d known just a few months ago. From what Mikaella had told Vicky, the girl sounded almost asexual, which made her sugar-babying all the more tragic.

While the two youngest members of the household were far from the picture of innocence, she certainly hadn’t expected either of them to do something so drastic, especially Alkim. He was always so protective of his future as a professional, saying he couldn’t have party pics on Facebook, or get a tattoo before medical school, and here he was talking about becoming an amateur pornstar.

“You don’t approve?” asked Alkim.

Vicky wasn’t sure how she felt about this news.

It wasn’t her place to lecture him. After all, he wasn’t her brother, even if she sometimes wished he was. And if Mikaella really was enjoying the sex… then, good for her. Vicky was just surprised it had been with Alkim, and after she’d been sexually active for years. Before last night, she’d never seen them really connect at all, and she couldn’t think of anything major they had in common.

Then again, Vicky had gotten a hint of that bulge mere minutes ago, when she was grinding on him.

Damn, is the dick really that good? Maybe that’s all Mikaella had been missing: the right dick, attached to the right guy. Someone safe, thoughtful, who didn’t have to pay for her services. There are way worse guys to get attached to than Alkim. Like, almost all of them.

In fact, the more Vicky thought about it, the better it sounded for the both of them.

“Well, you’re both consenting adults, with your own choices to make.”

“Not just us, Kate too. She’s making the website, and I’m gonna record her doing some softcore stuff.”

Fucking what?

“Seriously? Kate? She’s letting you record her? Naked?”

Alkim nodded. “Yup, she does not give a single fuck anymore. I mean, she already didn’t care if I saw her tits, or even her pussy every once in a while, but now she really, really does not give a fuck about what I see.”

He was grinning, no doubt replaying his memories of Kate’s nude body. Vicky couldn’t exactly blame him. She’d seen it all before, of course; Kate changing in front of her, strip poker with the girls, topless hot tub nights. Sometimes it got to be a bit too much, like that time Kate sat down on Vicky’s bed without any panties. Not that Kate didn’t have a pretty pussy, but that didn’t mean Vicky wanted it touching her clean sheets.

So gross.

Vicky had initially hoped that inviting a guy into the house would mean Kate might start covering up a bit more, but that had been completely off base. After that, she’d gotten worried that Alkim might start hopelessly crushing on Kate. It was hard to imagine so much regular exposure to so much unfiltered booba wouldn’t have some effect on him.

Maybe it wasn’t a full-blown crush, but Alkim had once admitted to Vicky that sometimes he had to go jerk off after Kate’s antics got him a bit too hot and bothered. Now, apparently, exposure to him must have also eroded what was left of Kate’s modesty. Still, blasé as she was about wearing clothes around Alkim, letting any guy photograph her nude seemed like a huge leap for the gold-star lesbian.

“Damn, dude. That’s fucking wiiild. Wait, does this mean you’ve given up on being a scientist?”

“No, not completely.”

“Okay good.”

“I just don’t think I’ll be taking the traditional career path for a while.”

“What’s that mean?” Vicky still had no idea what a normal career path was for… whatever kind of scientist he was.

“Just that I might finish out this gap year before I get back to applying to serious science jobs, running some… experiments, that sort of thing.”

“Good.”

Vicky was glad to hear he hadn’t given up on that. No matter how much she loved partying with him, she didn’t want to see him throw away all his potential. A brain like his was too good to waste on a career in porn, especially since he clearly loved science stuff.

Though she wouldn’t have admitted so aloud, she just didn’t share the same concern for Mikaella’s career trajectory. Really, anything that kept her from becoming a teen mom would be a win; that girl didn’t really have any scientific genius to squander, and shooting homemade porn was way safer than being a sugar baby.

Safer for me too… Wait, no. Regular job first. Only do porn if everything else fails.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t check out those videos…

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Chapter 21 is already up (16k words): Alkim makes a very unusual lease agreement with Kate's landlady...