The bass hit like a second heartbeat, vibrating through the floorboards and up into their bones. Neon strobes cut the dark in electric pinks and blues, bodies writhing in a sea of sweat and perfume. Priya and Sonia had dragged Vikram to the club with a dare in their eyes: one night, no rules, just us.
They found a shadowed corner booth, velvet seats already sticky with spilled drinks. Priya wore a silver slip dress that clung to every curve; Sonia’s black mesh top left nothing to imagination, nipples dark and hard beneath. Vikram’s white shirt was half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, the pulse in his throat jumping under the lights.
The first drink was liquid fire. The second loosened tongues. By the third, Priya’s hand was on Vikram’s thigh, Sonia’s lips brushing his ear. The music shifted—slow, filthy, a grinding rhythm that matched the heat building between them.
Priya moved first. She slid onto Vikram’s lap, knees bracketing his hips, the slip dress riding high. The booth’s table hid them from waist down, but the way her hips rolled told the story. She ground against the hard line of his cock, the friction through his jeans making him groan into her mouth. Sonia watched, pupils blown, then leaned in to kiss Priya—slow, wet, tongues sliding as Vikram’s hands gripped Priya’s ass, guiding her harder.
Sonia’s fingers found Vikram’s zipper. The rasp was swallowed by the bass. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Sonia licked it off in one slow stripe, the taste salty and sharp. Priya moaned into Sonia’s mouth, reaching down to wrap her hand around Vikram’s shaft, stroking in time with her grinding.
They didn’t make it to the dance floor. Couldn’t. The booth became their world.
Vikram lifted Priya just enough to shove her dress higher, exposing the lace thong soaked through. He tore it aside—rip of fabric, cool air on hot skin. Sonia dropped to her knees between his spread thighs, pushing Priya back so her ass hung off the edge of the seat. Vikram’s cock nudged Priya’s entrance, slick and ready. He thrust up in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt.
Priya’s cry was lost in the music. Her pussy clenched around him, walls fluttering as he set a punishing rhythm—hard, deep, the slap of skin muffled by the booth’s velvet. Sonia’s tongue found Priya’s clit, licking in tight circles, tasting both of them where they joined. The dual assault made Priya sob, nails digging into Vikram’s shoulders.
Sonia stood, stripping off her top in one motion. Her breasts spilled free—heavy, nipples dark and tight. She straddled Vikram’s face, facing Priya, grinding her soaked pussy against his mouth. Vikram groaned into her, the vibration making Sonia shudder. His tongue plunged deep, fucking her with it, then flicked her clit in relentless flicks.
Priya rode him harder, the angle perfect, his cock dragging over her G-spot with every thrust. Sweat slicked their skin, the scent of sex and spilled vodka thick in the air. Sonia leaned forward, capturing Priya’s mouth again, their tongues tangling as Vikram fucked Priya and ate Sonia in perfect sync.
The booth shook. Someone nearby laughed, oblivious. The risk only made it hotter.
Vikram’s hips snapped faster, the head of his cock battering Priya’s cervix. She came first—hard, sudden, her pussy spasming around him in rhythmic pulses, gushing down his balls. Sonia followed seconds later, grinding down on Vikram’s face as she shattered, her thighs clamping his head, juices flooding his mouth.
Vikram wasn’t done. He lifted Sonia off, spun Priya around so she faced away, ass up on the seat. He entered her from behind in one slick thrust, the new angle deeper, brutal. Sonia knelt in front, spreading Priya’s cheeks, licking where Vikram’s cock stretched her wide, then up to her clit. Priya screamed into the cushion, the sound muffled but raw.
Vikram’s strokes turned feral—hard, fast, the booth creaking under the force. His balls slapped Sonia’s chin with every thrust. When Priya came again, it was with a full-body shudder, her pussy milking him so tight he saw stars. He pulled out at the last second, fisting himself, painting Priya’s ass and Sonia’s waiting tongue in thick, hot ropes.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, panting, the music still thumping. Priya’s dress was ruined. Sonia’s mesh top lost somewhere on the floor. Vikram’s shirt hung open, chest heaving.
The strobe lights flashed over them—pink, blue, pink.
Priya laughed first, breathless.
Sonia licked a stray drop from her lip.
Vikram pulled them both close, the taste of them still on his tongue.
The night was young. The club was still pulsing.
And they had a VIP room upstairs with a lock.