Will these outlaws finally get caught… or will they live out their days in pursuit of pleasure?

***Happy Ending 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/B09DVVFMXM](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DVVFMXM)**)**
**Chapter One**
When I think about our last night together, even now, years later and years apart, my body still shivers and tenses with the memory of him, of us. Recalling it is all that’s left, and the misery of that is starting to soften. What once was is no longer; the hope of a rekindling, a possibility lost to the past. We used up all our hope so long ago and so entirely that it was difficult for me to feel bitter, knowing what we shared for all those good years. It is those years that I think about as I lie in bed at night, a bed that feels nothing like the one Michael and I had shared during those last months – the best months of my life.
It was that last transfer, the final deposit of funds that got us to Mexico, to the slice of paradise Michael and I dwelled in for a year before our arrest, that was our undoing. Our arrest. Our undoing. Not even our downfall was separate, our eyes staying locked as the uniformed officers pulled us from one another. We had not cried or begged or screamed. We did not try to play innocent. We both liked being guilty too much. We never tried to hide how we made our money. We weren’t stupid about, didn’t share too much to the wrong people, but within our circle, we were infamous and we loved it. I have no problem admitting that I desired an exciting life, knowing well enough from an early age that I would not be able to subscribe to society’s rules and regulations.
When I met Michael I saw myself, my own scorn for the uptight, unfair world we lived in. We had fallen fast and hard, as people like us tend to do. Michael had thought up the first plan and I can still remember how he explained it to me one night, as he pushed against me in our bed when we were still living modestly in a bustling city. He had touched me as he spoke, telling me how simple it was, really, to create your own wealth. His fingers, so strong and solid, brought me to orgasm in a matter of minutes as he talked of a shell corporation and the men he had met, the plan they had been working on. Part of me understood what he was suggesting but most of me just wanted him to fuck me while he talked about money, about how rich we were going to be. It hadn’t taken much convincing on Michael’s part. He knew I was as eager for anything out of the ordinary as he was, our constant restlessness being a significant factor in what bound us.
Doubting my own ability to comprehend the finances of it all, I offered up my own talents. I wrote for the websites, the home bases of the corporations, and there were many over the years. I was a trustworthy face, had a smart, but non-threatening disposition, and could flirt just enough to convince an indecisive investor that their money was safe with us. At first I found myself less than enthusiastic at playing what seemed to be the side character to Michael’s protagonist, his female companion, his fucking assistant – but then I found a sort of power in the role, the freedom and the benefits it allowed me. I let him take the lead when we were playing the game, putting on an act, but I knew I held Michael in the palm of my hand and I was just biding my time until I had him all to myself. When we finally arrived in Yucatán decades later, I did.

If they can’t pick just one, will they ever be satisfied?

***Reignited 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/B09CTLSMKB](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09CTLSMKB)**)**

**1**
“I thought we were supposed to be dancing, not talking on the phone with colleagues while I drink in the corner.”
I didn’t bother hiding the bitterness in my tone before taking another sip of my cocktail. My husband couldn’t hear me, phone stuck to his right ear and left hand pressed against the other. Even if he hadn’t been distracted trying to hear one of his coworkers, the loud bass of the music would drown my words out anyway.
It started off so well. We’d arrived in Cancun that morning, checked in, and made plans to explore and go dancing. We visited some marketplaces, tried some of the local food, and shared laughs as we walked towards the club the front desk had suggested. I had high hopes for this trip, our first vacation since our son moved out months ago. A chance to get away and reignite a love we’d seemingly lost. It was supposed to be a new beginning, and now, it just felt like more of the same.
Our initial mistake was making our way to the bar first and not following the crowd to the center of the room where people were dancing like their lives might end tomorrow. Whatever call he was on right now would’ve been missed and our bodies would have been close, our movements sensual and fervent.
All his attention would have been on what mattered – us.
I had been on my first cocktail when he got the call from work. A call that was supposed to last two minutes.
Now I was on my third.
Sighing, my gaze flitted around the room, taking in the amorous scene that was unfolding. My eyes were on the couples who seemed to be reveling in the moment despite the lack of air conditioning. They were dancing freely and losing themselves in the freedom of their movements. It was captivating, and I was jealous.

Can Swingers & Swing Dancing save a Marriage?

***”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.”