AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dancing all slutty, Krista thought, placing a hand up over the 14kt white gold cross that hung from her neck. This was blasphemous.
“Baby, you wanna dance?” Kendall asked, knowing damn well the answer would be no. More like, hell no. Krista shot him a look, and he simply smiled, head tilted, palms out, shoulders slowly bouncing.
“You know this kind of circus isn’t my cup of tea,” she said over the music, and yet she couldn’t stop staring. She had never seen anything like this. Such, such filth, such freakiness, such sin—all up under one roof.
Kendall wrapped an arm around her, fighting to keep his own eyes from bouncing all over the place. There were so many beautiful women—naked, half-naked, body-painted—that he was having a hard time staying focused. He pressed a kiss to the side of Krista’s head.
“I know, baby. We can leave in a few. If you want?”
She craned her neck and eyed him, and then raised a brow. “Is that what you want?”
Hell no. Kendall wanted to stay and get sucked into all the sexual energy swarming around him. He wanted to find a dark corner, pull out his dick and fuck.
“Yeah, baby,” he said, pulling her into him so that her back was to him. He wrapped an arm snugly around her waist. “Whatever you want.”
Krista folded her arms, her lips turned down in disgust; her eyes now glued on four bare-chested men, with skin the color of black licorice, grinding their massive bodies into a reddish-brown woman; her arms were up over her head, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy as each man’s hands and body heat engulfed.
“I’m going to walk around,” Isaiah stated over the music to LaQuandra.
“Bye,” she said. And then she shuffled off toward the dance floor. She didn’t even bother to ask him if he wanted to dance because she knew the motherfucker would turn her down. She didn’t come here to stand around like some wallflower. So fuck him.
She threw an arm up in the air and then moved to the beat. Her lips tooted, her head going from side to side. She plucked a drink from off the tray of a passing cocktail waiter, wearing nothing but his shiny dark skin and a loincloth.
She dipped real low, careful to not splash a drop of her drink, then rolled back up. She may not have had a porn star ass, but LaQuandra Lewis knew how to work the middle. And so she did.
Isaiah grabbed a drink from a passing waitress wearing a G-string and pasties. Her smooth body glittered, and he kept his eye on her swaying ass as she strutted by.
“You sure you don’t wanna dance, baby?” Kendall asked Krista again.
Krista shook her head, her gaze floating back over at Brenda and Roselle. Ooh, the nasty skank had her dress practically up over her hips. All Krista saw was thigh and her whole ass cheek.
I knew that nasty-bitch didn’t have on any drawz . . . mmph.
Kendall wasn’t the greatest dancer, but he had a few good moves and the music was doing something to him. Besides, he had hoped to get on the dance floor to get a closer look at the woman in the gold six-inch stilettos, with the big ass and heavy breasts. Her rich dark skin was the color of silt. Her eyes were shadowed in gold, so were her plump lips. Her arms were adorned in elaborate gold and ruby bangle
s. In each hand, she worked a tambourine.
She mewled out as her body moved, almost as if she were being possessed. Isaiah felt his dick stir, so he pressed himself into Krista and did a slow grind, his eyes locked on the woman who commanded almost everyone’s attention.
“You okay, babe,” Kendall asked, leaning in and then kissing her on the cheek.
Krista nodded, shook her head, then nodded again. Hell, she didn’t know if she was okay or not. She covered a hand over her face, but slyly peeked through her fingers. She couldn’t watch, but she didn’t want not to watch. There was a lot of debauchery going on, and she couldn’t wait to get on the phone with her sister Latrice to fill her in on all the hot fuckery.
Kendall looked over at the winding glass staircase to the right of him, and then his eyes landed up on the second floor. Standing at an elaborate gold railing—in a long, white roman-style gown—was Dr. Dangerfield looking down into the crowd. Kendall blinked. He thought his eyes were deceiving him, but they weren’t. Her nearly see-through gown took him by surprise. Goddamn, he thought. That body.
Standing beside Dr. Dangerfield was a masked woman in a sheer gown more provocative than hers. The woman was practically drenched in diamonds. The two women shared an exchange of words, and then the masked-woman laughed.
Kendall caught Dr. Dangerfield’s eye and then quickly shifted his attention back to the dance floor, back to the dark chocolate beauty with the tambourines and the big juicy booty. When he glanced up again. Dr. Dangerfield and the masked woman—who he suspected was Nairobia—were both gone.
Forty minutes later, LaQuandra was rocking back and forth on the heels of her bare-feet. “Owww! Yes!” She’d finished off her fifth cocktail; her shoes were off, the straps dangling from one hand. Oh yes. She was feeling good. And she didn’t give a damn that one of her toenails had cut open her fishnet stocking and now she had one red-painted big toe hanging out. Yes, she was drunk. But she wasn’t sloppy with it.
“Owwww!” She glanced around the dance floor in search of Isaiah, but he’d disappeared from LaQuandra’s view. He was over on the other end of the massive club entranced by four exotic-looking women who had him snared, rhythmically moving around him in a slow seductive circle. He stood there, bopping his head, gripping the sweaty neck of an ice-cold Fijian beer. He grinned when each woman took turns brushing a hand over his crotch, teasing him.
The sounds of cracking whips and sensual moans suddenly seeped out from the hidden speakers out over Nato’s “Gonwa.” And then came the pop-pop-pop sounds of asses being slapped, followed by tribal calls.
When the lights dimmed, bodies glowed with tribal markings. The club was drenched in ethnic sounds. The bass thumped. Deep tribal jungle music controlled the sway of hips. Suddenly, a long wall slid open and the dance floor swelled with naked men and women who had somehow managed to find a way to brazenly fuck each other on the dance floor.
“Oh this is too goddamn much,” Krista hissed. “Get me the hell out of here, Kendall.” Before Kendall could say a word, Krista was nearly tripping over her feet, her cunt violently clutching, as she dashed toward the door.
