***”Swing Dancing” by Clit Club***
*(This is a preview of a short erotic story that you can currently read for FREE on Kindle here:* [https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DBSBC2G](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DBSBC2G)*)*
**I**
“You’re thinking too much,” Mick said, his quiet voice bouncing around the studio. “You both are. Swing…you have to get out of your head to dance it. It’s about listening to your body, and letting it lead you.” He took a sliding step toward me, and I took a sliding step back.
“Just like that,” he said. He smiled with white, well-tended teeth, and I could smell something sweet on his breath – mango, maybe, or berries.
I glanced over at my husband, Danny, who stood off to the side with Mick’s girlfriend, Mila. His gaze was fixed on us, Mick and me, and though his body was stiff, he wasn’t tense – intrigued, maybe, and certainly alert. Mila stood up on her toes to whisper in Danny’s ear. There were shivers down my spine at the way her mouth curled around her words, though they were inaudible to me.
Mila led Danny onto the dance floor, and Mick said, “They look good together.” He slid a foot outward and gave a little hop backward.
I followed his movements, and let thoughts of right and wrong steps slip out of my mind until all that was left was my breath, my shoes tapping the warped wooden floor, the space between Mick’s body and my own – and the junctures at which our bodies met.
As our feet slid and scraped along the creaking floor, our torsos were propelled in and outward, creating with our bodies a series of smooth circles, moving in time.
My hair, black, thick, and a little wild, bounced around my body, and Mick’s light touches lit me up – like tantalizing droplets of rain running down my long body, pooling in the crotch of my thong.
Mick swung my body around his own, breathily saying, “Yes, yes! You’re doing so well!”
I glanced toward Danny. He’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and small curls of chest hair were visible. Mila placed her hand over the v of his shirt.
Danny was flushed. I recognized that little frown he wore on his face. It was the one he reserved for me – for me while I lay under him, or on top of him, or next to him, moving my hips and hands against him. It was the face he made when he wanted to be touched.
**II**
“Danny! You’re stepping all over me!” I looked down at my little red heels. I’d dug them out of the back of the closet for tonight. I’d had to wipe the dust off them, too. My husband, sweet and clumsy, was leaving scuffs all along the toes.
“Oh!” Danny said. “My bad, baby.”
“Oh well.” I blew a wayward strand of hair from my face and tried not to be annoyed. “We’re doing better than we were last week.” Our dance instructor sent a brief glance our way as she guided another couple, who were, thankfully, even more hopeless than Danny and I.
“One, two, three…” Danny mumbled, his hands firm as he dragged us both across the floor like twin robot buffalos, no grace or precision – and certainly no beauty in our movements.
I made a few harsh sounds as Danny yanked me, and he made similar ones when I yanked him – though, despite our jerkiness, we laughed. If we weren’t going to be good dancers, we might as well be happy ones.
Across the room was a young couple in their mid twenties, maybe. Their air was easy, like wind rustling the leaves of willowy trees. The woman wore a thin white dress with a short, pleated skirt, which billowed around her as she moved. Her partner, leanly muscled and dark-skinned, had a soft smile on his face.
They were careless, and looked over at Danny and me at frequent intervals. As they spun, I saw that the woman wore no bra, and the outline of her breasts heaving as she danced made both my harsh sounds and my laughs catch in my throat.
Danny danced me toward the edge of the room, and our bodies came together, smashing into one another, and then they separated roughly. My hand fell from Danny’s and my heels caught a crack in the floor.
“Oh!” I gasped, as I began to fall backward.
**III**
My body made an acute angle with the hardwood, and seemed to move in slow motion. I scrunched my eyes and braced myself, but the impact never came.
I was so near the floor that the ends of my hair brushed it. I unpinched my tight face, and peeked one eye open, like a scared child checking for monsters under the bed.
But what I found when I opened my eyes was hardly a monster – or it was, at least, a very handsome one.
His eyes were large and dark and held all the concern in the world for me. Behind him, a little white dress fluttered.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling his muscles rippling against my body. “Thank you.”
He brought my body back to a standing position, though I still felt like my legs would give out at his disarming smile. He looked down at me as though he was deciding which bite of me would taste best.
Danny brought his arm to the small of my back, and my body grew hot and nervous at my husband’s touch and a stranger’s gaze.
“Yes, thank you,” Danny said. “We’re such klutzes.”
The man laughed, and his dance partner came forward and pressed her body against his.
“We all have to start somewhere,” she said. “I’m Mila. This is my boyfriend, Mick.”
“Danny.”
“Nicole. Clearly we’re new to this.”
“Well,” Mick said, glancing briefly at his girlfriend with a charming smile, “why don’t we give you a few pointers?”
**IV**
“God,” I said. “It’s been, what, two months since Danny and I slept together?” I took a sip of my drink, and held the straw between my teeth as I continued to speak. “And more like two years since we’ve done it with the lights on.”
“I’m telling you, Nikki, you just need to get out of that house. Go out, go move your body.”
“We have date night every Thursday.”
“When you have a standing date night – same time, same place – don’t you think that kind of misses the point?” my friend asked. He reached across the bar and held my hand. “Wear something hot, do something fun, fuck until you pass out – and, I swear to god, Nikki, do not even think about putting on a nose strip before bed.”
When the music stopped, Mick and I didn’t immediately break apart. Instead, he placed a hand on my back and led me to where Danny and Mila stood. I couldn’t remember the last time someone other than my husband touched me like that. And yet, when Danny saw it, there was no jealousy on his face.
Couples slowly filtered out of the room, some bottlenecked just outside the door, chatting, women changing their heels for sneakers, rubbing the arches of their feet, and men untucking their shirts and rolling up their sleeves, combing back their sweaty hair.
The four of us – Danny and Mick and Mila and I – were like a single organism, each of us entwined with each of the others, moving and breathing together, mimicking, as we talked and swallowed and blinked, a murmuration of starlings.
I was surprised to hear my own voice as I said, “Please, you two should come over for drinks.”
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