Again, the sounds: Whistle, snap, crack, clang, tinkle. Again, the motion as she teetered on tiptoe. She understood. She was to dance, he was providin... the music. Over and over the whip landed beside her stretched toes with the red painted nails. Over and over she moved them to avoid the sting of the whip. Often she would throw herself completely off balance, and would spin like a graceful ballerina before gaining control, and being able to stop. She danced and danced; breaths became labored as. I looked around and watched the dozen or so guys wanking around the pool. Eyeing a beautifully erect cock, I stepped out of the pool and stood in front of the guy, leather clad apart from his cock.I stood right in front, bent forward a little and felt him thrust his cock deep inside me. I slid up and down his rod a few times, pulled out and moved onto the next guy. The music swirled around my head with the hazy alcohol, faces flashed in the club lights and the groans from the couple were. More

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