Chapter 3: Conner/Brad
Molly the paralegal dragged me onto the crowded dancefloor by my expensive tie. I won’t lie, I’m not much of a dancer, but the warmth of the bourbon flowing through my veins, and the pounding rhythm of the music, and the prospect of putting my hands on her ripe body quickly overrode any hesitation I might have been feeling. Besides, nobody would know me here. I never came to this part of town. Ever!
Molly pushed her way through the crowd like a three-hundred-pound linebacker going after a quarterback, stopping only when we were at the center of the dancefloor, which I quickly realized was not a dancefloor at all, but a space the patrons had cleared of tables and chairs to give them room to get down and get funky.
Molly spun around toward me and draped her hands over my shoulders and started moving to the music, her hips swaying back and forth, her green eyes locked onto mine, a devious smile on her lips. All thoughts of making it to Reed’s swanky New Year’s Eve party disappeared from my mind like dust in the wind. I could only focus on Molly. That beautiful face. Those green eyes. Those luscious lips. And her words that kept echoing in my ears.
“If you hope to fuck me before the night is over, Brad the banker, you’re gonna have to get a lot more interesting or get me a whole lot drunker. And you’re gonna have to dance with me. Do you dance, Brad the banker? Or do you just like to stand around asking dumb questions?”
Brad the banker was one lucky son of a bitch. And he would gladly danc
e till the cows came home if that’s what it took to get between sweet Molly’s long legs.
I put my hands on her hips and we did this kind of sexy, fast, slow, side to side kind of thing. She laughed and threw her head back. “Damn, Brad the banker, you got moves! I have to admit, I was worried that you were all looks and no swag.”
I grinned and kept doing whatever I was doing because it was passing as being able to dance. “Oh, I got your swag right here.”
“I’ll bet you do,” she said, lacing her fingers behind my neck. “You almost look like you’re dancing!”
“Dammit, I thought I had you fooled!” I gave her a goofy look just as the song ended and another began. I was hoping that one dance would do the trick. No such luck. Molly started moving again. So freakin’ sexy… The song was some hard driving, obnoxious, loud number I’d never heard. I did not listen to dance music or EDM or whatever the fuck they called it now. I was more of a classical kind of guy, with the occasional dose of classic rock and even a little new country. But this music ground into my ear drums like a drill on high. Molly, on the other hand, let go of my neck and threw her hands in the air and squealed.
“Oh, I love this song!” She tossed her head from side to side and wiggled her hips. “It’s Bruno Mars!”
“Bruno who?”
“Bruno Mars!’ she said, tugging on my hands. “Jesus, Brad the banker, do you live in a cave?”
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“Then come on, shake that cute ass of yours!”
“You think I have a cute ass?”
She didn’t answer. She just left me standing with my mouth hanging open. She twirled a few times, waved her hands in the air, and started singing along. I had to admit, the song wasn’t half bad. It was catchy. I quickly found myself dancing close behind her like several of the other couples were doing. It almost looked like they were screwing with their clothes on. Maybe this was what they called “dirty dancing” these days. I put my hands on her hips. She stuck her ass out and giggled at me from over her shoulder. I pulled her back into me so she could feel the growing bulge in my pants pressed against her tight ass.
“Wow, Brad the banker,” she said, leaning her head back against my shoulder, bringing her hands back around my waist to pull me even closer into her. My cock plumped in my suit like a ballpark frank. “Is that a big noise maker in your pants or are you just happy to see me?”
I put my lips to her ear and ground into her. “Why don’t we go to my place and you can find out. Or your place if it’s closer.”
She twirled around and put her hands to my cheeks, then pulled my face to hers. She gave me a sloppy, drunken kiss and rubbed her nose to mine. “Later, Brad the banker. Let’s ring in the New Year here, then we’ll have our own little party at my place. It’s just around the corner. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” I said, jerking her toward me, kissing her again. “But midnight better get here soon, Molly the paralegal. I’m not sure how long I can hold out with you doing that.”
She put her hands around me and clutched my ass in her fingers. She ground her crotch to mine and growled in my ear. “Come on, Brad the banker. Show me what you got.”
Chapter 4: Katie/Molly
It was starting to feel like I really was a wild girl named Molly the paralegal, out at a bar on New Year’s Eve, partying, drinking, dancing my ass off, and trying to get laid by the hottest guy in town.
There I was, in public no less, coming onto a gorgeous hunk of a guy who already had a very sizable hard-on just from dancing with me. God only knew what he'd do when he got me naked. I could barely wait to find out.
When he put his hands on my hips and pulled my ass back into his crotch, I nearly screamed and knocked his block off. But then, Molly kicked in and I found myself reaching back to grab his ass. I pulled him into me. I could feel his cock hard in his pants, pressing against my ass, making my juices flow.
He didn’t beat around the bush. He immediately asked me to leave with him and I almost jumped at his offer, but Molly wasn’t finished having fun. Midnight was still a few minutes away. There was more booze to drink and more dancing to do. And more flirting and fondling. I had already kissed him once and he had kissed me back. I liked the feel and taste of his lips on mine. I wanted to feel and taste other things.
The Bruno Mars song ended, and a slow number came on. I was sweating like crazy in the red sweater. When I had gotten dressed earlier in the evening, I had not anticipated dancing my ass off in a hot club. I could feel the sweat pooling between my breasts, sluicing down my spine to the top of my ass. I needed a drink and a napkin—several napkins, in fact—but Brad the banker had other ideas. Before I could walk off the dance floor, he took my hand and pulled me close.
“Uh uh, not so fast,” he said, pulling me into his arms. My hands went around his neck and he put his hands on my waist, then slid them around to the top of my ass to pull me in close to him.