Will they finally start to cross the line?

Suddenly the DJ’s voice cuts through the bass drop, amplified over the speakers.

“A’rihgt e’rybody- listen up all you beautiful people! We got a huge birthday in da house tonight! Shout out to Jay turning the big twenty-one! Happy birthday from Sofia and all your friends up in the VIP section! Give it up for him, people! And to the rest of the people in the club tonight – y’all make some noise for the birthday boy!”

The place erupts in cheers and whistles, a few random people nearby shouting “Happy birthday!” from the dance floor. The lights sweep toward our section, catching Sofia’s silver dress like a spotlight. She’s grinning ear to ear, arms up swinging in celebration, and whooping along with everyone else. Dan’s already on his feet, pumping his fist like this is all for him. Pete and Mike are yelling my name, while the girls clap and holler alongside Sofia.

I’m standing there, completely embarrassed, but thrilled deep down at having so many people cheering for me. Sofia turns to the crowd, then back to me, before finally clapping as the crowd moves on, and mouths, “Happy birthday,” and gives me a kiss on my cheek.

“You didn’t think I’d let you get out of here without that, did you?”

Before I can answer, the next track slams in and it’s a sultry Latin beat with heavy percussion, that instantly gets Sofia moving. The bass rolls through the floor, vibrating up my legs.

Sofia doesn’t bother trying to convince me to dance this time. She just grabs my hand, drags me past the railing, and down the stairs onto the dance floor. Not satisfied at the edge of the floor anymore, she gently nudges people out of the way as she heads toward the center of the floor.

Breaking into a flavorful style of dance, she spins to face me, throwing her arms over her head, then turns her back to me and pressing in close. Her hips start gyrating in slow circles in time with the beat, causing her ass to brush against whatever part of my body is closest, scraping the sequins over my slacks. I feel myself begin to harden instantly. Suddenly I’m wishing I was wearing jeans to help give a bit of a thicker barrier between me and her, as well as maybe hide it a little better than these are going to.

She glances over her shoulder, catches my eye, and gives what I think is an embarrassed smile before glancing down and moving off a little. It’s as if my nightmare just came true and she’s as aware of my growing erection as I am.

The separation doesn’t last long before she steps right back in, but maintains a bit more distance than she had, swaying with the beat. Her hands brush over my chest and arms in light, teasing passes as she continues to dance. When her head drops a little as she dances, it puts my groin back in her line of sight automatically. I’m guessing she noticed that I’m fully hard at this point.

Lifting her head toward the crowd and scanning again, she calls out over the music. “So,” she begins, turning her head the other direction to check that way, “see anything you like yet? Because I think we need to find something to feed that… thing.”

She nods in the direction of my crotch without breaking eye contact, with one eyebrow arched.

I laugh, feeling my nerves rise at being put on the spot, and try to deflect. “I already told you,” I say, throwing in a dumb eyebrow wiggle for good measure, “but you decided I wasn’t being serious.”

This difference compared to earlier is that she doesn’t laugh this time. Instead, she keeps dancing, then blatantly drops her focus lower, outright staring at the front of my slacks before diverting her attention toward the crowd. She bites her lower lip for a second, then meets my eyes again.

“I did think you were joking,” she says, never stopping moving. “But now… I’m not so sure.”

I swallow hard, and give an awkward little gesture, trying to wave off the comment, and making every effort to not come across as a bumbling idiot while dancing. “I-uh…”

I’m grateful when she lets it go and keeps dancing. A new song has started, with a bit dirtier of a beat. She turns her back to me again, pressing in close once more. This time there’s no mistaking that she’s grinding on me intentionally, rolling her hips in deep, deliberate circles, and pushing her ass back against me with every hit of the bass. At this point, she’s pressing against me hard enough that I can feel the sequins scrape along my member, and the friction against my fully hard erection is maddening. There’s no hiding anything that’s going on.

Gaining confidence, I reach up and grip her waist before scraping my hands over the sequins and moving them to her hips. I can see the sweat on her shoulders and her hair starting to turn into wet strings at the nape of her neck, which accentuates the warmth I can feel coming through the fabric of her dress. She turns her head, peering at me over her shoulder with this expression that shoots straight through me, making my dick throb against her ass.

She keeps moving in alternating motions that has me fighting not to cum in my pants in the middle of the crowd. Then a voice cuts through, completely catching me off guard.

“Yaaaaassss! Get it, birthday boy!” I hear and search around, becoming self-conscious all of a sudden.

After a second, I see a cute girl in a tiny red dress that’s dancing nearby with another girl, and both of them have these big stupid drunk grins on their faces. The friend throws her hands up and whoops. “Yessss! Work it!”

Sofia falters for half a second and her rhythm stutters, then she bursts out laughing. The sound of it is almost giddy, would be the best way to describe it. She spins in my arms, buries her face against my chest, and starts shaking with laughter. Gripping my shirt like she’s trying to hide.

When she pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes seem as if they may be watering from busting up so hard out of nowhere.

“See?” she says, trying to get her giggles under control. “Even strangers are rooting for you.”

I laugh too, with the unexpected moment breaking the tension. “Yeah… guess I’ve got cheerleaders now.”

She nods, keeping herself pressed against me and sliding her hands up to rest on my shoulders. Then her expression changes to something a little ****.

She leans in, getting close to my ear so only I can hear in the middle of the throngs of dancing bodies. “Can I ask you something?”

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