If this story pleases you, send me an encouraging email. This is a work of original fiction. Do not copy it or use it without the express written permission of the author. Enjoy. – moreau
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The air in the dance club was intoxicated with the pulsing boom-boom of hip hop, spilled beer and cosmopolitan floor wash, and the musky mingling of smoke and sweaty dancing couples. In a word, the place smelled of fun.
Trinh Nguyen, just this day having received an official congratulatory letter that she passed her entrance exam to pharmacy school, inhaled the fun. She knew she wanted more, much more fun this night. In fact, after months of pressing her cute Vietnamese nose into her pre-pharmacy doctoral review books, Trinh wanted to clear her nostrils of all remembrances of those review books, her sole evening companions for as long as she cared to remember.
Trinh had arrived dressed for cruising hip hop heaven. She wore her oh-so-tight jeans that emphasized her long legs and a sleeveless floral print top that showed off the toned, smooth olive skin of her arms. Though she was a trim and athletic 5' 4", her long arms and long legs gave the appearance of a taller girl. Add into the mix her tight body and perfect proportions, and, well, Trinh knew from previous trips to clubs that she was a major guy magnet, Grade A Asian choice, a prime piece of Vietnamese skin. In hip hop, great ass rules, and Trinh's firm butt atop her spin class sculpted thighs drew a crowd of admirers every time out.
The shoulder straps of her black bra were barely concealed by her top, and one strap would carelessly fall onto her arm as she danced. But it wasn't just Trinh's awesome dance steps and fallen black bra strap that made her a prime target of stares by glassy-eyed frat boys and other 20-somethings, her jeans stretching and gyrating as she alternated small steps and show-stopping butt shaking thrusts.
With considerable training in Vietnamese traditional folk dances, Trinh had learned to modify the arm movements to suit hip hop, resulting in hypnotizing reaching-to-the-ceiling hand circles and serpent-like arm movements. Trinh's long, graceful fingers drew circles in the air over her head, and any male bored with the same ol' same ol' American girl hip hop dance routine would be mesmerized by Trinh's exotic take on the dance. Sure, Trinh could place her hands on her thighs, elbows out, and stoop forward to shake her booty that would cause eyebrows and erections to rise, but the combination of sensual arm swings and hip hop steps put Trinh in a class of her own. And she knew it.
Trinh and her overweight, tag-along girlfriend danced casually for close to 20 minutes, occasionally freaking each other. It was good to dance with a girl not very good-looking, all the more contrast for everyone to see and admire Trinh's superior looks. Trinh circled the dance floor and made sure all the males at the bar and standing around the dance floor could check out her basic hip hop steps and exotic hands circling their sensual patterns in the air. And then one the club's alpha males moved in to check out this savory morsel from the Orient.
Though he already had a girlfriend (or three, who's counting?), Foster saw something strange and exciting ten feet away from him on the dance floor. At least this new one looked exciting through the alcoholic haze of Foster's brain. At 5'11" and well-groomed with beefy American features, Foster qualified as a regular land-shark for college coeds. They threw themselves at him and he, laughing and usually drunk, would grind them a little on the dance floor, smear a little Foster juice across their mouths or pussies if they were lucky enough to get him home, and then forget every detail.
Because of this alcoholic forgetfulessness, Foster had an equally charming sidekick, Paul, who had a much better ability to hold his liquor and his memories. Paul's dark brown hair and features were pilot fish to Foster's shark-like appearance, a fact that was crucial to Foster's ego and inconsequential to Paul, who considered himself lucky on several occasions to have sampled flesh that Foster had discarded far too soon. In other words, Paul got Foster's sloppy seconds, and it was cool.
Foster's arrogantly toothy grin first caught Trinh's attention, and then something about Foster's features taken together stopped her in her gyrating tracks. "He's cute" Trinh thought, "I hope he's headed my way."
Foster stepped right up to Trinh and began matching some of her body movements, the introductory steps to the hip hop club mating ritual. Trinh smiled broadly at Foster. Her wide smile of her perfect teeth set off against her tan skin usually was the first step towards reeling them in. She wanted to put some serious hooks in him right away, so she placed her left hand on her left hip, then snaked her right hand upwards, her index finger tracing a sensual southeast Asian curl in the air as she gyrated her body in a slow circle, giving Foster a view of tight blue-jean bottom holding her uplifted pear-shaped ass. When she returned to face Foster, she expected his eyes would be locked onto hers. That's the way it usually began. They weren't.
Foster was looking at Paul nearby. Foster took a sip from his scotch on the rocks and waited for Paul's signal. Though the girl was not someone he'd bring home to mother, he'd heard about Asian girls and their tight pussies. He wondered if this one would smoke his pole and if she could do as good a job at blowing him as she did working those legs and arms in that hot circle she just drew in front of him
Paul was Foster's final say-so on club hotties. With Foster attracting no shortage of the club's hottest bitches, Paul was his quality control. Paul had seen Trinh's smile reflected in the club's mirrored wall, had watched the legs work that turn, and was mesmerized by the olive-skinned arms and that Thai dance thing she did with her right arm. Per their pre-arranged signal, Paul lifted his beer bottle to his lips and sucked some brew, the signal for "go for this one." Then Paul moved over to Foster and Trinh, just in case the first introductions tanked and Paul could be on hand to scoop up the girl after Foster brushed her aside.
"Cool moves," said Foster, "if I had seen you earlier, I've have come over to check you out."
"Thanks."
"You new here?"
Trinh could barely hear Foster, so she leaned closer in to hear him. She touched his bicep lightly. She tilted her head so that her ear was close to Foster's mouth.
"What?"
"You...NEW?" Foster thought "bingo," this bitch is already touching me, I've won.
"My name is...Lily." Trinh offered her favorite American name, part of the anonymity and mysteriousness she used to protect herself.
"Lily, cool. I'm...John." Paul, within earshot, grinned at Foster's lie. That Foster would use a name as phony as 'John' to this one seemed the height of arrogance, or confidence. Foster opened his smile even wider, showing Paul that he could laugh at his own lie in Lily's face, and she'd still throw herself at him.
Trinh turned to see who Foster was smiling and winking at, and she then saw Paul, a cute guy but not quite as magnetic and drunk as Foster.
"My homeboy, Paul."
"What?" Trinh stood inside Foster's space, her hand touching his shoulder now.
Foster picked up the cue and put his hand on Trinh's neck and pulled her ear right against his lips.
"My homie, Paul."
"Cool." Trinh tilted her head slightly so that Foster's fingers were touching an especially sensitive part of her neck. She gently leaned her neck against his hand, tilting her head up towards Foster, exposing her throat to him.
"Damn," Foster thought, "this one's gonna be fun."
"Refill," Foster said, holding his empty drink glass out to Paul. Paul took his master's glass and headed back to the bar for another drink while Foster still maintained his grip on Trinh's neck.
The boom boom of the subwoofer called the dancers to action, no more talking for now. Foster brought his other arm up and over Trinh's shoulder, both arms now making a large circle around Trinh's head, his hands no longer touching her. Trinh made a quick step forward so that she was facing Foster, straddling his right thigh, her right knee inches below Foster's groin.
Foster responded by lowering himself just a bit. "Work it baby, work it," he said.
Trinh's right thigh was now directly contacting Foster's groin, and she massaged his groin while touching his chest, his waist, then gently touching her fingers on his thighs. She brushed her way back up to his chest, then ever so delicately put both her hands around Foster's neck and pressed her face against the side of his face.
Foster changed attitude and leaned back, his arms both behind him now, an invitation for Trinh to continue her vertical lap dance at another level. Trinh stepped away smiling.
