...Jagger leaned forward, bringing his lips against her earlobe. "I believe this is our cue to dance." His moist breath turned her skin to goose flesh and created a savage throbbing between her thighs.

Without waiting for a reply, he took Cassandra by the hand and escorted her to the crowded dance floor. Immediately, he pulled her into his muscular arms. He rested his cheek against hers; his beard stubble scratched against her face like sexual sandpaper. Her body molded to his. She pressed her hands against the solid wall of his pectorals, and also felt him threatening to rip from his pants.

She longed to emancipate the mammoth beast from its leather jail. As the song's tempo increased, so did her desire. She clawed at Jagger's backside, ran her hands over his firm, round buttocks, traced his Adam's apple with her tongue, unconcerned if her lascivious conduct raised eyebrows amongst the patrons. Too engaged in their own various pleasures and the live band, the others didn't seem to notice.

As the song reached its raging climax, Cassandra flicked her tongue through Jagger's curly chest hair. She scooped the pendant of his necklace into her mouth and sucked on its bulbous silver point.

His blue eyes connected with hers, and that dangerous sneer twisted the corner of his mouth. "I need to feel your lips on me…" He stabbed his hardness into her belly. "On every inch of me…"

He laced his fingers through hers, and without another word, led her off the dance floor to the rear of the nightclub. There, about a dozen booths lined the wall. While in college, Cassandra and her friends called them the "make-out booths." Each had a table with a cushioned seat fashioned in a half-circle. Black walls on either side of each booth gave it privacy. On each table sat a large candle; when the candle was lit, the booth was "free." A darkened candle, however, meant the occupants preferred "no interruptions" from waitresses or other patrons.

In the days following college, Cassandra and Robert had "visited" the booths on several occasions, using them as an area for cuddling and heavy petting while watching the live bands. Other daring couples, she supposed, had done more within the shadowed privacy, especially on evenings when club traffic was light—like tonight.

This evening, all but one candle glowed in the shadows. Jagger led her to a booth in the far corner, blew out the flame, and settled in the center of the semi-circle. Cassandra eagerly joined him. Immediately, she felt his large hands envelope her breasts. His lips teased her cheek and neck. She grabbed his beard-stubbled face and planted her lips over his, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. His tongue responded in kind, while his attentive thumbs made hard points of her nipples. His hot, runaway kisses electrified her. Currents of passion raced down her torso and into her groin.

Wild with lust, she groped the lengthy, rigid bulge in his crotch. Through the black leather, his erection pulsed against her palm. She fumbled with the zipper, needing desperately to clutch his flesh in her hands. Simultaneously, he danced his fingers up one of her bare inner thighs, then chuckled when he discovered her lack of undergarments. Happily, she spread her legs for him, giving him better access to the part of her that screamed for relief. He slid one finger, then another, into her heated dampness, while thumbing her nub in small, excited circles. She groaned her pleasure into his open mouth, savoring the spirited invasion.

Finally, Cassandra unzipped his pants, then smiled when she discovered he also wore no underwear. She yanked his white shirt halfway up his torso, then ran her fingers through his dense bush of pubic hair and dug out his shaft. Now, with her eyes adjusted to the shadowy darkness, she could just make out the uncircumcised, nine-inch rod beating against his furry, muscle-ridged belly. Saliva moistened her mouth as she waltzed her fingers over the fat, throbbing length.

"Suck it," he ordered.