The Exotic Erotic Ball 

	"Are you almost ready?" I called upstairs.  "The limo is going to be 
here soon."
	"Just about," Stacy called back, "just finishing my makeup."
	I went to get our jackets out of the closet and put the things we 
needed in my pocket: cigarettes, Zippo, credit cards and cash, house 
key, identification, tickets and two other items.  I was traveling 
light, just black jeans, a short sleeve shirt and a light jacket.
	A short, discreet beep sounded outside and I yelled upstairs again.
	"Limo's here!"
	"OK, I'm coming!"
	Footsteps from upstairs and then she appeared at the bottom of the stairway.
	"Wait!" I said, and she paused, one foot poised delicately above the 
last step.
	"What?" she asked, "Is my lipstick OK?"
	"You're lipstick is fine.  I just wanted to drink in the sight of you 
for a moment," I told her and it was true.  She looked stunning.
	"I thought you were trying to get me to hurry!" she teased.  "The 
limo's waiting."
	"Yeah, we better get out there.  If I look at you another second, the 
limo driver's going to have to wait while I make love to you right 
there on the stairs."
	"Mmm, that sounds nice," she said, and gave me a look as though she 
were considering it, "but for $80 an hour, maybe we better not keep the 
limo waiting.  I'll keep that in mind later, though."
	We donned our coats and walked out to the limo.  It was only the 
second time we'd ridden in one and this time we'd have it all to 
ourselves.  Two kids from the neighborhood were walking by, openly 
gaping at the long black car.
	"Good evening ma'am, sir," the driver greeted us from his post near 
the rear door, "How are you tonight?"
	"Fine, thanks," I told him, "We're ready to go."
	"Very well, sir," he replied as he opened the door.
	Stacy slid in and I followed her, reveling in the feel of the big 
leather seats.  The dim lights inside glittered off of the glasses 
arranged neatly by the chilled bottle of champagne.  The driver closed 
the door behind us as we settled in and took in the luxurious 
surroundings.  Moments later, the chauffeur opened his own door and 
eased into the driver's seat.  He glanced back through the open divider.
	"The controls for the lights, the divider and the television are on 
the left side," he told us, "and the Taittinger champagne you ordered 
and glasses are in the center.  After I close the divider you can talk 
to me via the phone on the right side.  Do you have any special 
instructions?"
	"No," I told him, "everything is perfect."
	"Thank you, sir," he replied, and turned away.  A minute later, the 
engine purred to life and we moved slowly out into the street.  The 
divider rose soundlessly until we were alone.
	Stacy was already sitting with her legs stretched out along the seat 
that lined one side of the car.  Her skirt had slipped apart where it 
was slit and part of one perfectly formed leg was showcased in her 
sheer black nylons.  I took in the rest of her outfit again. A sheer 
black skirt with several layers that seemed opaque until she walked in 
front of a light.  That and the fact that it was slit nearly to her 
waist would give me tantalizing glimpses of her legs all night.  An 
almost see through black blouse covered what appeared to be a tank top 
that showed her spectacular cleavage; if someone looked closely enough, 
they would see that the "tank top" was really the top of a black teddy 
that was molded to her gorgeous body.  Her skirt slid a little more and 
I glimpsed the coup de grace, garters that held her stockings up.  I 
couldn't quite see the tiny black G-string she had promised to wear, 
but a good wind - or almost any dancing - would cause the skirt to slip 
aside and reveal both garters and panties.
	"I can't believe we're finally going," she told me.  "The Exotic 
Erotic Ball.  In a limo.  It's so... decadent."
	"Well," I told her, "we've been meaning to go for years, ever since we 
moved to San Francisco."
	"But I never thought then that we'd be able to afford a limo for an 
entire night, complete with champagne."
	"Speaking of which," I said as I reached for the bottle.  They had 
thoughtfully left a towel beside the bottle and I quickly popped the 
cork out and grabbed two glasses.  Settling back beside her, I poured 
one for each of us and then replaced the bottle in the ice bucket.
	"To an interesting night," she toasted as we touched glasses.  The 
crystal chimed and was still vibrating as I raised the flute to my 
lips.  The cool, silky liquid slid across my tongue and the bubbles and 
crisp acidity seemed to bring my mouth alive.  I swallowed and felt the 
creamy aftertaste you only get from the best Chardonnay grapes.
	"Mmmm," Stacy sighed, "that's good.  Nothing like real champagne to 
get ready for a party."

	Half an hour and several glasses of champagne later, we pulled up in 
front of a decidedly un-luxurious building.  It appeared to be nothing 
more than a warehouse.  No fancy lights, no signs, no windows.  Just a 
long line of limos steadily disgorging their passengers and a longer 
line of people on foot waiting to pick up tickets.  I reached past my 
darling and hit the switch to lower the divider.
	"Should I just call your cell phone when we're ready to leave?" I 
asked the driver.
	"That's fine, sir.  Would you like my card?  It has the number right on it."
	"Thank you," I told him as I took the card.
	I tried to check out the other limo passengers as they debarked, 
looking for anyone famous.  After all, people as varied as Madonna and 
Dennis Rodman had been known to show up for this in past years.  
However, I couldn't see much, especially as most of the people were 
wearing long coats.  Many also wore masks.  I suspected this was more 
to hide their costumes and identity than to provide protection from the 
relatively mild weather.
	"Before we get out, we better finish getting dressed." I told Stacy 
and slid out the final two items I had in my jacket.  They were 
glittering half masks, much like many others were wearing.  San 
Francisco was exceedingly liberal but for a lot of people tonight was a 
chance to assume a role and act it out in anonymity.
	A minute later, we were emerging, carrying our coats since neither of 
us was dressed too outlandishly.  Quite a few men in the line were 
looking at Stacy with frank admiration, although they were too far away 
to realize she was essentially just wearing underwear with some gauzy 
fabric over it.  We walked quickly up to the door - it was a little 
colder than I thought it would be - and presented our tickets to the 
attendant.
	"Good evening," he told us as he quickly but thoroughly examined the 
tickets, "You have VIP tickets, so you can go right in.  The first 
stairway to the left after the coat check will take you to the lounge, 
where your table is reserved.  Look for your name on a place card."
	"Thank you," we both said as we walked past him and through the main door.
	Stacy had thoughtfully brought a small purse and we quickly moved the 
items we needed into it before we checked our coats.
	"Where can we smoke?" I asked the coat checker as I tipped her.
	"All the way down that hallway to the right," she replied, pointing in 
the appropriate direction.
	"Let's smoke before we go to the table," Stacy suggested.
	We walked down the hall and emerged into a large covered patio that 
had portable heat units spaced along it.  It was quite comfortable and 
was secluded from the street or any other building.  There were several 
other people there.  None of them were dressed like what I would have 
expected at the Exotic Erotic Ball, although others were wearing masks. 
 The women were dressed mostly in cocktail dresses, many with short 
skirts and plunging necklines, while the men were dressed much like me, 
although many had their shirts unbuttoned quite far and one was wearing 
a tight pair of leather pants.  Several had drinks in their hands and 
we spotted a bar at the far end.  As we approached it, we saw our first 
real costume - the man behind the bar was wearing a pair of faded jeans 
and a hard hat and we could see work boots underneath the table that 
served as a bar.  He had no shirt on and both nipples were pierced with 
small hoops.  He was quite muscular and attractive, I suppose, although 
to me he just seemed straight out of the Village People.  Probably 
aiming mostly to impress the gay crowd, I thought.
	We were already nicely buzzed from the champagne so we both just 
ordered Cokes when the bartender approached.  He returned with them 
quickly and set them in front of us.
	"That'll be four dollars," he told us and took the five I held out.
	"Been here before?" he asked as he made change.
	"No," we admitted.  "We haven't lived in San Francisco that long."
	"Well, this is definitely an institution.  Do you have a table reserved?"
	"Yes, but we haven't been there yet."
	"Oh, you haven't seen anything, then!  The lounge overlooks the main 
dance floor so you'll get to see all the action.  There's a chill room 
in the back where they play ambient music, too.  And don't miss the 
costume judging at midnight."
	We thanked and tipped him and moved away to allow others access to the 
bar.  We found a small cocktail table that was open and set our drinks 
down.  Stacy dug in her purse and handed me a cigarette and the Zippo, 
then got out a cigarette for herself.  
	As I leaned over to light her cigarette, I whispered, "Want to play 
Guess Who the Drag Queens are?"
	She smiled and whispered back, "Definitely the one in the pink number, 
near the door.  The wig almost covers 'her' back muscles but not quite."
	We laughed discreetly and looked around the room as we smoked.  More 
people were coming in now and they were in all shapes, sizes, colors 
and combinations.  An older white man, well groomed and dressed in what 
looked like Armani, came in with two much younger women, both of whom 
wore gobs of makeup and sported carefully coiffed hairstyles.  Oh yeah, 
I thought, they're escorts.  A male couple came in, one black and one 
white, both wearing tight mesh shirts and tighter jeans.  Then a 
middle-aged hetero couple, both of whom were a little overweight, but 
she was wearing the skimpiest dress I'd seen yet and he was wearing 
chaps over his jeans and I could see the edge of a leather harness 
under his shirt.
	More people arrived.  Two women dressed as traditional geishas.  
Another woman dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl.  A man in what looked 
like leather armor from a fantasy movie.  A punk rock lesbian couple, 
all ripped clothes and safety pins.  They were white, black, Latino and 
Asian.  Young, old and in between.  Straight, gay, bi, trans.  Some 
attractive, some definitely not, most in the middle somewhere.  This 
was a fashion show, all right, but it was more about the costumes than 
who was good looking.
	We finished our cigarettes and headed back the way we came.  Near the 
door, we found the stairway and followed it up to the lounge.
The lounge was where the decorating began.  A dark mahogany bar with 
weird light fixtures over it took up one side.  Booths with plush seats 
lined the back and other side, where we had come in.  The middle was 
filled in with various sized tables.  Finally, the front had just a 
railing overlooking the main dance floor, where lights flashed and 
sparkled in time to the pounding dance music.
	We found our table, a small booth at the back where we had to sit side 
by side and look out across the lounge and the dance floor.  The booths 
were raised even higher so we could see over the other tables.
	It wasn't until we were seated that we really looked out at the dance 
floor and then I thought, Ah, this is where everyone is.  The dance 
floor was already crowded and the people here were almost all dressed 
up.  Many of them were normal costumes - but almost invariably modified 
to have more sex appeal.  There was a fairy, with a pink leotard, 
gossamer wings and a magic wand --but the back of the leotard was cut 
into a thong and she (or, possibly, he) wore nothing beneath it.  There 
was another guy in chaps - this time with nothing but small bikini 
underwear under them.  Quite a few people were wearing elaborate 
leather and chain contraptions that barely covered genitals and nipples.
	There were also people who were obviously paid performers.  Several 
dark men were juggling flaming torches in a corner of the dance floor.  
A mixed group of men and women were doing what looked like yoga, except 
that they were twisted around each other as well as themselves.  And of 
course, there were dancers, in cages suspended a few feet off the dance 
floor.  Men and women both, all wearing only the tiniest of bikinis and 
dancing as provocatively as possible.
	As we took in the scene, a waitress approached our table.  She too was 
in costume, a pink and yellow belly dancer outfit consisting of flowing 
pants, halter top and a half veil across her lower face.
	"Hi, how are you two tonight?" she asked, loudly but politely.
	"Good, thanks," Stacy replied.
	"Would you like something to eat or drink?" she asked.
	"What do you have to eat?" I inquired.
	"The most sensuous, delectable foods we can find.  Caviar, pate, fine 
cheeses, oysters, shrimp, sorbet, various fruits...."
	"Wow!" I exclaimed, "I didn't think you'd have so much.  Sweetie, do 
you want anything?"
	"Um, some cheese sounds good.  Something that would go with champagne, 
maybe.  And I wouldn't mind a shrimp cocktail."
	"Do you have some softer cheeses?"  I asked the waitress.
	"We have a mixed plate that has Brie, a soft goat cheese and one 
harder cheese - Edam, I think."
	"Uh, we'll have that, some shrimp and half a dozen oysters."
	"OK, and to drink?  Champagne?" she guessed.
	"Yeah, what do you have?"
	"We have Mumm Napa Valley, Gloria Ferrer Rose, Bollinger Brut and Dom 
Perignon."
	"How about a bottle of the Bollinger?" I asked Stacy.
	"Sounds good," she replied.
	"OK, we'll go with that," I told the waitress.
	"All right.  Cheese, shrimp, oysters and bubbly, coming up."
	As the waitress walked away, I turned to Stacy and saw that she was 
staring out at the dance floor.  I followed her gaze and saw the punk 
rock lesbian couple on the dance floor.  It was easy to see why Stacy 
was watching them - they were dancing close in each other's arm and 
were locked together in a passionate kiss.  One was very thin - the 
heroin chic look - and wore fatigue pants, boots and a black tank top.  
Her head was completely shaved and she sported numerous piercings in 
her nose, eyebrow and ears.  The other seemed to have a more feminine 
body but she had covered it up with a black sleeveless T-shirt 
emblazoned with "RANCID" on the back and a pink taffeta skirt.  Her 
hair was blonde, short and spiked out in every direction.  As I 
watched, the thin one moved one of her hands down to the other girl's 
breast, which seemed to make the blonde start kissing her even more 
fervently.
	"Like what you're seeing?" I asked Stacy.
	"Mmm-hmm," she affirmed.  "It's sexy to see lesbians be able to be 
that passionate in public without anyone caring."
	"Is that the only reason you're watching them?" I asked.
	"Well, and it's just plain sexy to watch two women making out.  Not 
like those cheesy lesbian scenes in porno movies."
	"And..." I prompted her.
	"And I keep thinking about being down there myself, with one of them 
kissing me as we danced," she admitted.
	"Which one?" I inquired curiously.
	"Umm, the blonde I think.  If I'm going to make out with a woman, I 
want to feel her boobs pressing against mine," she replied, throwing a 
quick grin my way.  "But they're both pretty."
	As the song ended, the couple we had been watching walked off the 
dance floor and out of sight.  A faster song came on and more people 
crowded onto the dance floor.  The song was too fast for anyone to be 
kissing each other, but we saw a few couples start grinding against 
each other.  One guy was hunched down with his lips moving across 
another guy's chest while they both moved in perfect time to the music. 
 Damn, I thought, why are gay men so much better at dancing than 
straight men?
	Soon our waitress returned, carrying a tray with a bottle, two glasses 
and a variety of dishes.  She set them down and scanned my ticket, 
which charged it automatically to my credit card.  Then she quickly 
popped the cork and splashed some champagne in each of our glasses.
	"Bon appetit!" she told us as she walked away.
	Stacy took a sip and started giggling as she swallowed.
	"What?" I asked.
	"I can't tell if this tastes so good because it is good or because I'm 
already pretty tipsy," she explained.
	"I think it's a safe bet that it really is good champagne," I told 
her.  "Here, try some cheese," as I held out a finger with some Brie on 
it.
	She leaned toward me and put her mouth the whole way over my finger 
and then slowly tightened her lips and slid them back up until they 
popped off the end.
	"Yum," she told me and proceeded to lick her lips and give me what I 
supposed was a smoldering look.  She held the look for a second and 
then we both burst out laughing.
	"Well, it was sexy," I consoled her.
	"Oh yeah, I'm a regular Greta Garbo," she teased.
	We both turned our attention to the food for a moment and I picked up 
an oyster.  I added a squirt of lemon juice and then held the shell to 
my lips.  There is something very erotic in eating an oyster; in a way 
I almost think it's homoerotic because straight men don't generally 
feel smooth flesh sliding back into their mouths and down their 
throats.  I'm not one to balk at pleasures just because they "seem" 
gay, though - I just enjoyed the smooth coolness slipping through my 
mouth.
	I glanced back at Stacy, who was just swallowing a shrimp and washing 
it down with champagne.
	"Good?" I asked her.
	"Yeah, fresh and ice cold," she told me appreciatively.  "I love the 
seafood you can get in the Bay Area."
	"Me too," I agreed.  "Here, try some of this mango relish."
	As we ate, two people dressed relatively conservatively approached the 
booth beside us and slid into it.  The booths were somewhat separated 
but as they walked in front of us, I could see that the man had a hand 
cupping the woman's ass and his fingers disappeared under her skirt.  I 
threw a glance at Stacy and she responded with a smile that said, Yeah, 
I saw that too.  I glanced down at her skirt and gave her a questioning 
look.
	"Not yet!" she said with a laugh.  "I haven't even had enough 
champagne to start dancing yet."
	We finished our food and wine leisurely and took in the scene around 
us.  A lot more tables had filled up and it looked like any lively San 
Francisco restaurant, except for the frequent kissing and cuddling 
going on.  Some women were sitting on their dates' laps as they ate 
while other diners obviously had their hands under the table touching 
each others' legs.
	Finally, after savoring my last oyster, I looked over at Stacy again 
to see a look of expectation on her face. 
	"Well," she asked, "are you ready to dance with me?"
	I'm a shitty dancer - I know that.  But a quick glance at the dance 
floor showed me that we would probably go unnoticed amongst the throng 
of dancers.  Plus most of the straight men seemed to dance as poorly as 
I knew I did.
	"OK," I replied.
	We left our drinks and walked through the other tables and down onto 
the dance floor.  The music was electronic edging toward industrial - 
more our style than some of the pop remixes and hiphop they'd been 
playing.
Somehow, as we walked onto the dance floor, my tension melted away.  I 
forgot about all the people in the lounge who were probably even now 
watching us.  The music seemed to get even louder as the crowd 
surrounded us.  Soon my awareness had narrowed to Stacy and glimpses of 
a few of the closest dancers, and the music seemed to fill my body.  I 
was moving before I knew it and watched as she started to dance too.
	I've always loved to watch her dance.  She always looks inviting yet 
aloof, challenging and friendly, and ultimately alluring.  A look of 
pleasure crossed her face as she started swaying and her eyes sparkled 
in the storm of lights.  Then she closed them as she lost herself in 
the music and I lost myself in the beauty of watching her.
	For a while we just danced.  Or at least I suppose I did.  I was so 
entranced by watching her move to the music that I was hardly aware of 
what my own body was doing.  As promised, her skirt frequently came 
apart to give me glimpses of her garters and smooth thighs.  Finally 
she danced closer to me and put her arms over my shoulders without 
losing the beat.  She came up on tiptoe to whisper "I love you" in my 
ear and then kissed my neck as she moved her body against mine.
	I tried to match her movements and soon we were swaying together.  I 
had one hand on the small of her back and the other cupping her 
beautifully shaped ass.  She still had an arm over my shoulder but 
moved the other one down to caress my chest.  My nipples are amazingly 
sensitive and I reveled in the feel of her stroking them through my 
silky shirt.  Occasionally she planted her warm lips on my neck again 
and sent waves of pleasure through me.  My dick was rock hard, pushing 
against her, and I could feel the blood in it pulsing to the sound of 
the music.
	I don't know how long we danced.  Several songs, certainly, because I 
remember moving fast to something upbeat, kissing languidly during a 
slow song, and finally breaking apart in laughter and pleasure as a 
classic disco song came on.  Mostly I just remember the feel of her 
body and the patterns of the lights as they glittered off the colorful 
costumes around us.
	As the disco song ended, Stacy grabbed my hand and started pulling me 
back in the direction of the lounge.
	"I'm thirsty," she told me.  "Let's have more champagne."
	I felt somewhat relieved that we had moved apart during the last song 
so my erection had shrunk to a less obvious state.  I followed her up 
the few stairs, marveling at her legs as she ascended each step.  I 
watched her ass swing in front of me as walked over to our booth and, 
admittedly, stole a glance down at her flawless breasts as she leaned 
over to sit down.
	I retrieved the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and poured us 
each another glass.  We sat back and caught our breaths and allowed our 
eyes to take in the scene again.  It was much as before but much more 
crowded.  The multi-hued costumes, the glittering decorations and the 
wanton exhibit of sexuality lent it the air of some sort of adult fairy 
tale.  I sat back, closed my eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the 
atmosphere and the buzz of the champagne.
	When I opened my eyes, I found myself looking just past Stacy at the 
couple who had previously sat down next to us.  They were seated close 
together on the far side of their booth and I could see that his arm 
was extended toward her, with his hand under the table.  She was 
leaning back into the cushions, with her head thrown back and her hips 
pushed forward.  I could tell from the slight rhythmic movement of his 
arm that he must be rubbing his hand between her legs.
	I turned my gaze toward Stacy and indicated with my eyes that she 
should move closer to me and look toward the next booth.  The near 
telepathic communication between couples who are exceptionally close 
paid off and she understood me and moved nearer.  When she looked 
toward the other couple, I whispered in her ear, "He's totally 
fingering her!"
	"I can see that!" she whispered back.  "Looks like he's doing a good 
job, too."
	Even as she spoke, the woman in the next booth pressed her lips 
together and thrust her hips forward.  She held that position for a 
long moment and then sank back into the cushions.  We looked discreetly 
away before her eyes could refocus.
	"That makes me think of how your fingers feel in my pussy," Stacy 
whispered to me.  "You always make me feel so good when you get them 
way up in me and push into my G-spot."
	"I was thinking of the same thing," I told her.  "Especially how 
you're body arches against me when you're coming so hard."
	As I spoke, she slid her hand across my thigh and lightly brushed over 
my semi-hard dick.  Instantly it was completely hard again and I moaned 
slightly in her ear.  My arm was around her and I let my fingers move 
along her breast, tracing the outline of the teddy she was wearing.  
She moved closer against me and ran her fingers up my thighs and across 
my dick again.
	"God, you're so hard," she told me.  "I wish your cock was pounding 
into my pussy right this second."
	I shivered with pleasure, but she withdrew slightly and moved her hand 
up to the table.
	"I don't want you coming in your pants quite yet," she joked.
	We moved slightly apart and looked out across the dance floor.  I 
wasn't paying much attention; all my attention was focused between my 
legs.  I wanted to feel her hand on my dick again, even if it did mean 
coming in my pants.
	"Look at her," she said, interrupting my reverie.
	"Huh? Who?" I asked, trying to look like I was paying attention.
	"The black woman, dancing by herself," she told me as she nodded 
toward the dance floor.  I followed her gaze and saw a small, slender 
woman dancing by herself near the entrance to the lounge.  She was not 
dressed extravagantly but her cocktail dress showed nicely shaped legs 
and substantial cleavage.  She had very dark, flawless skin and a 
classic face topped by hair in long braids.  She danced with her eyes 
closed, swaying rhythmically without any concern that she danced alone.
	"Uh... yeah?" I said, somewhat confused.  She was certainly beautiful, 
but so were many of the other women in the room.
	"I've seen her before," Stacy told me, "one night when I went to the 
lesbian bar in the Mission."
	"She wasn't one of the mud wrestlers, was she?" I joked.
	"No," she told me seriously, "she was just sitting there at the bar 
having a drink.  But she kept looking at me.  That's why I remember 
her.  She just held my eyes when I glanced at her and didn't seem 
embarrassed or anything.  I pretended to get involved in a conversation 
with someone because I was afraid she would want to talk to me."
	"Would that have been bad?" I asked.
	"Well... no," she told me, "but at the time I was in school and barely 
had enough time to spend with you.  I certainly didn't need to be 
picking up strange women in a dyke bar."
	"It seems you've been given a second chance," I told her.
	"What?" In her surprise, she looked away from the woman and up at me.
	"Go talk to her.  As long as you don't leave me stranded here alone 
all night, I don't mind."
	"Even if you don't mind - which I don't believe - I couldn't," she 
told me.  "What would I say?"
	"Duh.  Tell her you've seen her somewhere before but didn't have a 
chance to speak to her.  Or some shit like that.  You know better than 
me how to approach women!"
	"I dare you," I added, seeing a look of indecision on her face.
	"Fine!" she told me, "but don't go picking up the Village People 
bartender while I'm gone!"
	We both laughed as she climbed over me and stood up.  I watched in 
trepidation as she walked across the lounge.  I had often told her that 
I would find it a turn on if she were with another woman, but I never 
really expected to witness her coming on to one.  We had a very 
fulfilling monogamous relationship - but the thought of her with 
another woman drove me crazy.
	She approached the woman, starting to dance as she hit the edge of the 
dance floor.  She waited a few feet away until the woman noticed her 
and then moved closer.  They bent together, temporarily losing the beat 
as they talked.  Then they began dancing again, but together this time. 
 I watched in adoration as my baby's body moved rhythmically with 
another woman's.  They weren't even touching but it was intensely 
sensual.  I could tell by the way their eyes drank in the sight of each 
other that there was a mutual attraction.
	Slowly they moved closer.  Stacy's hand reached out to lightly rest on 
the other woman's arm and they gently touched each other.  Soon they 
were dancing much closer, their breasts and thighs touching and their 
arms around each other.  Finally, as I virtually held my breath, Stacy 
tilted her face up and the woman leaned down slightly and kissed her.  
It was almost a chaste kiss rather than a mouths-wide-open, 
tongue-in-your-throat kiss, but they danced for a long time with their 
lips pressed together.
Finally, they separated as the music changed.  They stood still and 
talked for a moment before Stacy turned and walked back toward me.
	"Well?"  I demanded when she got back to our booth.  "What are you 
doing back already?"
	"Damn, give me a second to catch my breath!" she told me with a smile, 
"That was intense!"
	I controlled my impatience and waited while she took another sip of 
champagne and exhaled heavily.
	"Well?" I finally asked again.
	"She was waiting for her girlfriend," Stacy explained.  "She 
remembered me though and said that her girlfriend wouldn't mind if we 
had a dance and one kiss."
	"One kiss?" I asked incredulously.  "Isn't there, like, a time limit 
on how long you can kiss before it counts as more than one?  That was 
hot!"
	"You're telling me!  I love kissing you, but kissing a woman, in 
public, was such a thrill.  My panties are soaking wet.  I could feel 
her nipples through her dress, they were hard as pebbles."
	"Damn that was sexy," I told her.  "I changed my mind about wanting 
you to have sex with a woman in front of me - I think I'd spontaneously 
combust if I saw that!"
	"God, that was crazy," she went on, "at one point she reached under my 
ass and ran her fingers along my pussy.  I... I have to admit I came 
right there on the dance floor."
	"I think I'm going to come right now," I told her.
	"Not yet," she replied, "come dance with me."
	I followed her to the dance floor again.  She exchanged smiles with 
the black woman as we walked by, but didn't stop.
	We started moving to the music again, but this time she was all over 
me.  Grinding into me, kissing my neck and chest, grabbing my ass.  I 
nearly forgot the erotic sight I had just witnessed as she used her 
whole body in unison with the music to make love to me there on the 
dance floor.
Finally, as we got deep into the crowd at the center of the dance 
floor, she moved a little to the side and put her hand on my chest.  
Then she quickly slid her hand down between my legs and grabbed my hard 
dick through my jeans.  I groaned into her hand as she straightened me 
out and started rubbing me.
	"Don't you dare come," she whispered to me before she moved her lips 
to my nipple.
	I looked around us, trying to find something to distract me so I could 
obey.  The male couple beside us were dancing front-to-back and doing a 
damn good job of imitating anal sex.  A woman near them had no shirt at 
all on and had another woman crouched in front of her, licking her 
nipples.  An assorted group of men and women were dancing nearby and 
everyone seemed to be touching everyone else.  I thought I saw a hard 
dick being pulled out of a pair of jeans.
	Her hand moved away and I didn't know whether to be glad or not.  I 
had been on the verge of coming, regardless of her instructions, but it 
had felt so good.  Then I nearly jumped as I felt her hand slide down 
inside my jeans.  I glanced down and could just tell that she had 
undone my belt and unbuttoned the waistband of the jeans.  I thought, 
What, are you crazy? but I didn't have time to say it before her hand 
closed around my bare flesh.
	For one moment I thought that was it, that I was going to come right 
then, shooting come all over her hand and both our clothes.  But she 
moved down my shaft, knowing how to tease me, and started to knead the 
base of my dick.
	"I bet you want to fuck me," she said in my ear.
	"You have no idea," I told her.
	"Oh, I think I do," she replied, "your cock is harder than it's ever 
been.  What would happen if I slid my hand up a little...."  She suited 
action to words and moved her hand up toward the head a fraction of an 
inch.  My heart leaped and I stopped breathing as I tried to hold off 
my orgasm.  I looked around again, but the people around me only 
intensified my pleasure.  Here I am, I thought, getting a hand job with 
dozens of other people close enough to touch me.  It's a good thing 
half of them seem to be in about the same situation as me.
	Her hand slid away from me again and again I felt a simultaneous sense 
of loss and relief.  A moment later and she was buckling my belt one 
handed while she looked up at me with a mischievous grin.
	"Let's go explore," she said softly and led me away by the hand.
What, I thought, is she talking about?
	She led me toward the back of the dance floor and I saw a hallway 
leading out of the main area.  We entered it and were immediately 
plunged into darkness as the lights from the main dance floor dimmed 
behind us.  I could vaguely make out other people walking by or 
standing near the walls.  Many of them were embracing or kissing.  We 
walked by a man who was pressing a woman up against the wall.  She had 
one leg up over his hip and I could have sworn he must have been 
thrusting up inside of her as we walked past.
	In a moment, the hallway opened into another room.  Here there were 
much dimmer lights than the main dance floor and soft, ethereal music.  
Cushions and pillows were scattered around on the floor and people were 
sprawled out everywhere.  Most of them were tangled together in couples 
or small groups and I caught glimpses of bare breasts, hard dicks and 
bared pussies.
	"That woman told me this was where the real action was," Stacy 
whispered to me.  As we got closer to the dark alcoves at back, I could 
see people engaged in a variety of sexual acts.  A man near us was 
having his cock sucked by another man while a woman kissed him and 
rubbed his chest.  Two women in cocktail dresses had their dresses 
pulled up around their hips while they ground their naked pussies 
against each other.
	Stacy and I moved into an unoccupied alcove and sank to the cushions.  
I moved to kiss her but she pressed her hand into my chest, slowly 
forcing me onto my back.
	"Don't move," she whispered.
	She leaned down over me and I saw that she had unbuttoned her blouse 
so I could see most of her full, perfectly shaped tits.  I stared 
unabashedly until her hair came down and obstructed the view.  Then her 
lips touched my nipple through my shirt and I jerked as a near electric 
shock coursed from my nipple straight down to my dick.
	Stacy ran one hand down my chest and over my stomach, stopping at my 
belt buckle.  Then she followed the same path with her tongue.  I 
closed my eyes and sighed as I felt the warmth and moistness of her 
mouth through my shirt.  Then I felt the pressure of my pants release 
as she unbuttoned them again.  This time, she didn't grab my expectant 
cock, but just held my pants and boxers away so that it could pop out 
in the open.  I glanced up, momentarily embarrassed to have my dick out 
in plain sight, but no one was near enough to see us clearly in the dim 
light.
	I looked back down at her and saw her looking up at me as she moved 
her mouth down toward my waiting dick.  By now I literally thought I 
was harder than I had ever been.  My cock was throbbing with every 
frenzied beat of my heart and it seemed to stretch toward her mouth on 
its own.  She gave me a smile and then stared deep into my eyes as she 
lowered her head and ran her tongue up the underside of my dick.
	"Uhhhh...." I moaned involuntarily as a tremendous rush of pleasure 
swept through my body and made my head spin dizzily.  Then her lips 
covered the tip of my dick and I felt the incredibly smooth texture of 
her mouth as she surrounded my dick with warmth and moisture.  My head 
spun out of control then and my sight dimmed as I got lost in the 
ecstasy she was creating in me.  The sense of being totally enveloped 
by her increased and I knew she was pushing her mouth the whole way 
down my shaft, burying her lips in my pubic hair.  Her throat seemed to 
grip the head of my cock even better than her mouth had and I started 
moaning and writhing from side to side.
	"Oh my God, oh baby, that feels fucking incredible, ohhh, yeah, baby, 
yeah...." I groaned.
	I let my hands run through her soft, fine hair and came to myself 
enough to see the supremely erotic sight of her mouth filled with my 
dick.  She looked up at me again with a smile in her eyes and then 
began to slide her mouth up and down my shaft.  She moved faster and 
faster and the waves of pleasure got closer and closer together until 
they lapped over one another and ran together.  I felt an irresistible 
pressure building in my balls and let out one final moan.
	"Oh, baby, YES!"  and then the pressure shot up along the length of my 
cock and my orgasm swept through me.  At the last instant, she pulled 
her mouth away and I watched my hot come spurt out over her face.  This 
just drove me even more crazy and I bucked my hips as she held the end 
of my dick to her face and let the come cover her lips and cheeks and 
run down along her chin.
	As I collapsed back against the cushions, she sat up and come dripped 
off her face to land on the inside slopes of her breasts.  I just 
stared at her thinking, what an incredibly sexy sight she is.
	Quickly she reached into her purse and pulled out a few tissues I 
hadn't known she had and quickly wiped her face and boobs clean.  Then 
she leaned over to kiss me and I could taste my come on her lips.
	"You might want to put that thing away," she teased and helped me 
slide my dick back into my boxers.  I managed to get my pants buttoned 
and my belt done even as she started to stand.
	"Wait...."  I implored her, "I want to make you feel good, too."
	"Oh, you will," she promised, "but I need to you to fuck me good and 
hard and I'm not quite up to doing that in front of everyone.  Let's 
continue this party in the limo."
	We got up and walked back toward the entrance.  I'm sure there was 
still a lot of sexual activity going on around us, but I felt 
retroactively embarrassed about getting a blowjob in full public view 
and I kept my face down.  It had been one of the most kinky 
experiences, and one of the most exquisite orgasms, of my life, but it 
was definitely not something I was used to.
	We hurried through the club and picked up our coats, Stacy staying out 
of the bright lights so no one would see the little bit of dried come 
on her face.  I called the limo driver as we walked and he was waiting 
outside when we emerged.  There were still people going in - we hadn't 
even made it to the costume judging - but right now all we wanted was 
to be alone with each other.
	As we climbed in the limousine, I told the driver to take the long way 
home.  He simply nodded, obviously accustomed to this request, and 
closed the door behind us.
	Even before the car started to move, Stacy was in my arms.  We kissed 
hard and then opened our mouths to try to devour each other.  As the 
car pulled away from the curb, we let the acceleration push us back 
onto the seat so that I was lying on top of her.  She moved her lips to 
my neck while I struggled with the buttons on her blouse.  In a moment, 
I had it opened, and I ran my mouth down her neck and onto the top of 
her left breast.  I tried to burrow in between her tits with my lips 
and was rewarded when one nipple popped free of her teddy.  When I took 
it into my mouth, she let out a loud moan.
	"Maybe I should turn on the stereo," I whispered and she nodded.  I 
reached over and fumbled for the power switch, hoping I wouldn't 
accidentally roll down the window.  Some random alt rock song came on 
and I turned my attention back to my lover.
	She was already busy undoing my pants (for the third time this 
evening!) and I reached down to help her slide them over my ass.  I 
didn't even take off my shoes or push my pants the whole way down.  My 
dick was already rock hard again and she grabbed it and began to jerk 
it in her hand as I pushed her skirt aside until she was exposed the 
whole way up to her tiny G-string.  Without hesitation, I grabbed both 
sides of the tiny underwear and pulled them down over her garters and 
pantyhose.  She kicked them free and they fluttered to the floor as I 
reached down and unceremoniously shoved two fingers into her drenched 
pussy.
	"Oh my fucking GOD!" she cried.  "I've been needing that all night!  
Fuck me with your fingers, oh, you do it so good, fuck me, fuck me."
	I rammed my fingers in and out of her sopping cunt while she bit at my 
neck and scratched my back.  She thrust her hips up to meet my hand, 
fucking my fingers like they were my cock.  I reached one arm around 
her and lifted her body against mine so I could feel her body bucking 
against mine.  Her skin was burning up and electricity sizzled 
everywhere our bare skin met.  My shirt had gotten unbuttoned somehow - 
which of us had done that? - and our arms, skin, nipples were rubbing 
together.
	I pulled her body close to me and lowered my mouth to one nipple.  I 
opened my lips slightly and flicked my tongue back and forth over the 
hard nub and she cried out with renewed vigor.
	"Oh, yes, you're going to make me come so fucking hard, yes, baby, 
yes, FUCK!" as her body spasmed against mine and I felt the muscles in 
her pussy grip my fingers and pull them in.  The rest of her body acted 
with her pussy and she wrapped her arms and legs around me as she came. 
 I kept fingering her, fucking her with my hand as hard and fast as I 
could to keep her coming.
	"Ohhh...." She moaned as her body sank bank into the deep leather 
seat.  I slowed my fingers down.  "Oh my god, what did you do to me?  
Where am I?"
	"Did that feel good, baby?"  I asked her.
	"Oh my fucking god, yes,"  she replied.  "Give me a few seconds to 
recover and then I want you to fuck me just as hard."
	While she caught her breath, I pushed my shoes and pants off.  She 
spread her legs so that one was up on the back of the seat and the 
other was draped down to the floor.  Her pussy was wide open to me, a 
dark area that drew me in like a black hole.  Without hesitating, I 
slammed my dick up inside her the whole way.
	"Yes!"
	"Ohhh!"
	We moaned together as I started pushing back and forth, gently at 
first but quickly becoming more urgent.  I got one knee up on the seat 
and braced my other foot against the floor so I could push into her 
harder and started pounding her pussy as hard as I could.
	Her pussy was soaking wet and still tight from her orgasm and it 
gripped my cock hungrily, swallowing it and releasing it reluctantly 
every time I drew back.  The feelings she generated in me were intense. 
 I looked in her eyes, kissed her mouth and whispered "I love you" as 
her body seemed to surround me and caress me.
	"I love you too," she whispered back.  She rocked her body in time to 
my strokes so that each one went deep inside her.  I knew that the tip 
of my dick must be pounding her cervix on every stroke but I knew she 
would kill me if I didn't fuck her as deep and hard as I possibly 
could.  I felt her juices soaking my balls as they slapped against her 
every time I drove inside and I could feel another orgasm building up 
inside them.
	I looked up for a moment and saw something that distracted me slightly.
	"Look!" I told her urgently.  "Look out the window!"
	We both looked over at the window in the side of the limo.  We were 
cruising slowly down Market Street in heavy traffic.  I knew no one 
else could see in through the dark glass, but we could see out - and 
there were people standing less than a foot away from the limo on the 
sidewalk.  Many of them were looking at the limo with awe or curiosity 
and it felt like they were looking right at us, watching us as we 
fucked like savage animals.
	"Oh my god, it feels like they're watching us," she said.  "It's kind 
of freaky but it turns me on.  It's like having an audience without 
being embarrassed."
	"I know.  It's so kinky that they are probably having fantasies to 
themselves that people are having sex in here but they don't really 
think that could be true."
	"I have an idea," she told me.  "Get off of me for a second."
	"Awww...." I pretended to complain, but I slid out of her quickly.
	She sat up and then climbed up on the back seat on her hands and knees 
so she was looking out the window at the people on the sidewalk.
	"Fuck me doggie style," she instructed me.  Now that I knew what she 
was up to, I eagerly complied, climbing up on the seat behind her and 
kneeling to slide my dick back into that hot pussy.
	"Mmmm," she moaned as I slid in.  I grabbed her ass and pulled her 
against me, driving my cock up inside her.
	"Oh my god, you're hitting that spot!" she cried.  She started to 
grind back into me and reached up to grab the side of the limo for more 
support.  "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
	I crouched over her back and grabbed her tits, now both hanging 
exposed, in my hands.  Using them and her body for leverage, I started 
to pound into her again.  I slammed into her again and again, picking 
her body up off the seat and driving her forward on some strokes.
	"Yes, yes, YES!" she cried.
	"Oh baby, you're so fucking hot, look at all the people watching you 
fuck me," I told her and we both looked out the window at the 
pedestrians on the street.  The crowd seemed like they were standing 
there enthralled by the hot sex going on in the car.  Knowing they 
couldn't see us just drove us crazier and we both called out and moaned 
as we desperately coupled, driving our bodies against each other.
	"Oh baby, yes," Stacy moaned, "you're making me come again, oh my GOD!"
	I felt her pussy grip my dick even tighter and drag me into her as she 
started to come and the pressure pulled another orgasm out of me.
	"Oh yes, yes, oh baby!" I cried out as the come seemed to originate in 
every cell of my body and rush down to center in my cock before 
exploding out and deep into her pussy.  I slammed against her a few 
more times as we both came, our bodies shaking convulsively, and then I 
pushed in deeper than I had yet and let our bodies merge together in 
one glorious glow.  We held this position as our orgasms peaked and 
started to subside and then collapsed onto the seat with my arms around 
her.
	"Holy fuck," she said.  "That was fucking intense."
	"Un-fucking-believable, baby."
	As we lay there, we realized that we were only ten or fifteen minutes 
from home.  We hurriedly dressed and used the last of Stacy's tissues 
to clean up ourselves and the inside of the limo.  There wasn't much we 
could do about our clothes - her skirt and both our jackets had come 
all over them - but we figured in the dark we could get out and in the 
house without anyone noticing.  I slipped a generous tip in the 
appropriate place for the driver and picked up the in-car phone.
	"No need to open the door for us," I told him.  "Just stop the car and 
we'll jump out.  Thank you for the excellent service.  We had a grand 
night."
	"I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves sir." he replied, "If you ever need a 
limo again, just call San Fran Limo Service."
	"Thanks, I will," I told him, and hung up.
	The limo pulled up to our house and we jumped out and ran for the 
door.  Once safely inside, we immediately headed for the shower to 
clean up before we collapsed in bed, deliriously happy, totally 
exhausted and madly in love.