Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor

You wondered if Doctor Isaac knew, instinctively, the reach of your sphere of observation. The dancefloor was only four feet away, but was twelve feet across. If she went beyond that then you may not be able to properly track all of her vitals, especially with a wall of other heated, undulating bodies in the way. Not at your current power setting.

Fortunately it seemed that she intended to stay exactly where you could see her, moving onto the dancefloor from the corner nearest you as the beginnings of a new song wove itself over the end of the currently fading track. The faster, though not too frenetic, beat rose up and the crowd cheered and raised their arms in recognition of it, Doctor Isaac doing the same celebratory shout. And from that moment it seemed more appropriate for you to call her Isabelle in your mind…

Isabelle moved with a fluidity that did not match your initial calculations for her range of motion. The sway of her hips and the way the movement slithered up to her shoulders had you questioning your predictive physics algorithms. She raised her arms while combing her fingers up through her rich copper hair, that gyration of her body whipping into the ends of her silken locks. A number of other dancers were immediately mesmerised, slowing their own rhythmic motions to watch the woman insinuate herself into the throbbing atmosphere. The exertions continued to raise Isabelle’s body temperature.

You registered her closest admirers, currently like warm, hesitant moons orbiting a molten sun. Five obviously unpartnered males had set their sights on her, nodding their heads and bouncing on the balls of their feet or on their heels. They rolled their shoulders and jockeyed about in an almost casual way, hoping to catch the graceful woman’s eye as she swayed and spun in tight semicircles in rhythmic sync to the song. For the longest time she seemed to only care about the music, eyes squeezing shut, head bobbing, slender arms hugging her own body as if the pulsing melody wound through her. Then she chose the first, twisting towards a taller man with dark, close cropped hair and a well trimmed beard.

He donned a crisp white collared shirt, sleeves rolled behind the elbow which were currently bent at his sides as he jived with Isabelle. She smiled widely at him and he back at her. You watched the two move towards and away from each other like leaves being pushed and pulled by an undecided wind. She found this man’s appearance attractive, was the beginning of your assessment. It was why she was drawn to this physical specimen of the male form, her pelvis flooding with heat from the sight of him, barely contained beneath that thin green skirt. A few times she brushed deliberately closer to the man as she turned on her impossible heels, touching a bare shoulder across the tightness of the shirt stretched over his chest. Her neck and inner thighs warmed in pulses when she did this, but her first dancer remained somewhat of a gentleman and only nodded his head, grinning stupidly and hovering his arms around her, until Isabelle grew tired of leading and spun away to her next partner. Partners.

There were two, actually, and whether these men knew each other didn’t seem to matter to anybody involved in their closely grouped dance. The pair were of similar height and just a little taller than Isabelle, who seemed to have positioned herself in a way to make sure both men knew she wanted their attention. They were happy to oblige.

One, with thick hair styled into spiky points jutting an inch beyond his high forehead, added a couple of short, well timed claps to his dance, somehow not making it appear hokey, while he watched the girl in the green dress gyrate on his ‘friend’. His friend was grinning wildly, whipping his long, tightly curled brown hair back and forth over his shoulder as he slid his thick fingered hands onto her thighs encouragingly. They moved together like that for a good portion of the song, his hands stroking her sides and she seemed to control him with turns of her waist. He didn’t mind at all as Isabelle gently pushed herself away from his almost completely bared chest (with only the three lowest buttons of his red shirt done up), and slid into their waiting partner’s arms.

The Spiky Hair Man wore a sleeveless shirt with a stylized bird wing on the chest, however this was currently rather obscured by Isabelle rolling her head back into, hips forever swinging as she bent at the knees. Her hands reached up to feel at the man’s forearms, to clutch and squeeze at his biceps as she writhed her way up his body. You could see the two men had grown even hotter than Isabelle at this point, with Spiky starting to form another heated spike under his tight black jeans. Isabelle continued to grind on his growing lump while his hands slid down to her stomach, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts on the way, and he held her close, making her sigh. They swayed to the throbbing beat. Curls grinned, enjoying the show, then reached forward and took Isabelle’s hands. He didn’t pull her away from the man, he simply danced with Isabelle while she continued to be locked in Spiky’s warming embrace. There was a lot of warmed genitalia around, you detected. Hot penises outnumbered heated vaginas, but they all moved about under the dim lights of the club with wandering purpose. The connected trio didn’t take up much space on the dancefloor, just turning slowly in generally the same spot, their bump and grind contained in their own little, ever heating sphere.

But then she saw Him, as she went to swap positions and lean on Curls. She turned her head the opposite way to look over his shoulder as he hugged up to close the circle with Spiky on the other side. Her body kept moving with theirs, but her gaze became distracted whenever they turned and her new target drifted into view.

Even you almost didn’t notice the way she broke free from the two dancers who were happily sharing her affectionate touch. She seemed to draw them both into her, until their thicker arms were caressing each other, fingers brushing broad shoulders, and then she had slipped to Spiky’s side. The men seemed to only give Isabelle a cursory nod, both still smiling like they had before she had briefly brushed through their lives, then simply continued dancing with each other as she moved on.

You found yourself registering an odd, less even heatmap on Isabelle’s next dance partner. He was tall as well, bald by choice, and seemed to lean to one side for his particular style of dance. He caught Isabelle’s hand before she had even thought to reach for him. You saw him mouth ‘Hi’ to the doctor, whose face was already flush from the exercise. And they danced. She put her arms over his shoulder, basically hanging off his neck now, and they swayed and bobbed to the pacing music. You wondered if she knew this man, but that seemed unlikely with the way she was looking at him. She seemed to be studying him in a way, very interested in getting to know his physicality, with her hands as well as her eyes.

When the other dancers had touched her she would swell with heat in certain places… certain zones of her body. She seemed to like it the most when a man was squeezing her thighs, but Curls had also rested his chin on her shoulder then, so that may also have contributed to those blooms of arousal. You estimated now that her excitement had reached a medium to high level, and even from your distant vantage you could detect the stiff attention of her nipples featuring prominently from her dress. She pressed close enough to her newest partner for him to feel them on his back on a few occasions, and he slid a set of fingers over her bare shoulders as they swapped places to turns of the song. The bald man’s body was heated quite evenly all over, aside from in his left arm and left foot. Those appendages remained rather cold and dark compared to all of the other living bodies still swirling around them.

Isabelle let herself be rolled into that arm, and the cool metal prosthetic bore her weight easily, and he pressed his padded palm into her back to gently launch her into another sensual twirl with her fingers caressing his chest. He tapped the foot of his prosthetic leg in rhythm with the song as she leaned a slow, suggestive shimmy against his pelvis, but then another dancer, this time a woman, crossed her path. The woman was short and blonde and wore a white halter top and a tight black skirt, and her allure was undeniable, according to your Generalised Attractiveness Matrix. The way she danced with Isabelle was lively, and the bald man with smiled generously despite his dance partner being temporarily whisked away. Isabelle did not stray far.

There was a fun, almost challenging air to how Isabelle and the other woman rotated around each other. They touched arms more often than she had done with the men. At times they held each other’s hands aloft, their faces leaning close, lips almost brushing. You noticed their paired posteriors, which seemed to stick out more and purposefully, curves sliding against the other’s as they danced. The doctor’s arousal spiked with this partner, and she couldn’t help her excited laughter. You thought they might reach some kind of dramatic climax at one point… but the blonde woman only moved in and gave Isabelle a seemingly platonic hug, charged with energy as it was, just before the song drifted to its end and a slower tempo of music took over the steaming airways. The women spun apart, cursory waves exchanged, and the blonde disappeared into the crowd while Isabelle returned to the bald man with a replacement arm and a replacement leg.

He had been dancing with another partner in that time, but instinctively turned to Isabelle so they could resume their engagement. Their entanglement. And you noticed how she looked at him now, her affections for this particular dancer notably stronger than the rest. Perhaps it was thanks to the previous partners priming her up for him, but the unique movements of the man and the possessive way he held his hands onto her lower back had her legs trembling. They kept dancing for another half of the song... before Isabelle had enough and grabbed the man by his collar. She dragged him away from the dancefloor, past the bar, and towards the bathroom.