There’s nothing quite like the rhythmic beat of salsa dance to put you in the mood for sex, as this woman and her boyfriend found out. But then another couple persuaded them to take their lust one step further – and took them into a millionaire’s paradise where they played out their foursome fantasies. For a week, I played back her confession each night, almost wearing out the tape as I enjoyed every single steamy detail, bringing a whole new meaning to the term ‘four-play’.
I’VE ALWAYS LOVED to dance. Even when I was a kid, I’d put on music and really let myself go. There’s something so liberating about it. When you’re lost in music, really lost, you don’t think about your evil boss, that unpaid credit card bill or those shoes you’d just die for. All you feel is the rhythm, taking you over completely, surging through you like an unstoppable force, as your body follows the beat. That’s how it’s always been for me.
As a kid I dreamed of working in a West End musical, singing and dancing every night, being with people who loved my passion as much as I did. Each time we went into town, I’d walk along the streets, staring in awe at the brightly lit theatres, with their colourful posters and sumptuous, inviting entrance halls, with their thick carpets and dark wooden staircases. And down the side streets, the understated stage doors, where the stars of the show came and went. One day, I told myself, I’ll be the one coming out of the stage door, still in my thick make-up and buzzing from the show.
Did I follow my dream? Did I hell. My singing voice is pretty dreadful, to be honest, and I’m quite short and curvy – there is no diet in the world that would reduce me to Nicole Richie. Or even get me close. I did modern dance classes, and applied to a few dance schools, but at the auditions everyone was thin as a pole and wearing ballet shoes. So I decided to keep dance as a hobby, and that’s when I discovered salsa.
If you’ve never been to a salsa class, it’s hard to imagine just how incredible, how totally exhilarated, it can make you feel. The music is Latino, fast and furious, with quick steps, fast turns and lots of dramatic hair-tossing. Well, that’s not compulsory, of course, but once the music takes you, it’s impossible to hold back. And best of all, you dance in couples. Very, very sexy.
I’d read about salsa, so when I saw classes advertised near my home, I thought I’d give it a go. The teacher was a beautiful Cuban woman with long dark hair and beautiful coal-black eyes, who wore the most fabulous short lycra dress and strappy heeled shoes to dance in – I loved it so much that I went straight out and bought the entire outfit. My enthusiasm was totally infectious and within a month I’d persuaded three friends and my boyfriend Mike to come along and try it.
Salsa came naturally to me, but to my surprise Mike picked it up very quickly too. He’s well built, not much taller than me, and fair-haired, so not the tall, slim, Latino look you’d expect in a salsa dancer. But, boy, could he move! After a few sessions we began to practise dancing together, and there was nothing I loved more than feeling Mike’s sweaty body pressed up against mine as he spun me round, wrapped up in the music just as much as I was.
We quickly realised that salsa was a fabulous form of foreplay. When his arm slid around my waist and pulled me close at the start of a dance, a sexy shiver would sizzle right through me. Our bodies would be almost – but not quite – touching, which simply added to the thrill. The music would begin, that hypnotic, sensual rhythm that you just knew would be perfect to fuck to. I’d want to fuck him right then and there, and I’d know I couldn’t for at least a couple of hours when the class ended. It was the anticipation, the knowing that after the class, we’d dash home, hot and sweaty, and he’d be inside me the moment we were in the front door, which drove me wild. Some nights I felt so turned on that halfway through I’d have to slip out to the loos, my fingers eager to satisfy my bulging clit, lubricating it with my juices and my sweat. Other nights I’d make myself wait, delaying my orgasm until we were home, when I’d have Mike’s delicious cock inside me.
There were about 20 of us in the class, some of them couples, and right from the start I noticed one woman in particular, Claire, made a real effort to be friendly. She was a little older than me – early 30s, I’d say – and much taller and thinner, with long, straight dark hair which she always wore tied up in a high ponytail. Her face was very pretty, with beautiful chiselled features that suggested she could have been a model. Maybe she was – I didn’t know anything about her, but she certainly had the face and the figure for it.
Each week when Mike and I arrived, she’d make a point of walking over to say hi. Her husband Steve was more reserved, and slightly older than Claire, but very fit. We’re talking a younger George Clooney. Probably early 40s, with thick, dark hair, slightly greying around the temples which made him look quite distinguished. I’d never really fancied an older man before but there was definitely something about him.
Claire and Steve were absolutely loaded, I knew that. When we left the class each week, they stepped into a top-of-the-range, brand new convertible Porsche parked right outside. But they didn’t have any airs and graces. They were also very good at salsa – far too good for our beginners’ group, but whenever our teacher recommended they join advanced or at least intermediate they would insist that they couldn’t make it to any other class.
One night, Mike was ill and couldn’t make the class. ‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ asked Claire, as we waited for the teacher to start.
‘In bed, with a cold,’ I replied. ‘You know blokes. One sniffle and they insist it’s full-blown flu, demanding endless cups of tea and sympathy, while the rest of us would take a paracetamol and get on with it.’
She smiled, and for the first time I noticed just how perfect her teeth were. Not just dead even, but a perfect creamy-white shade, not the bleached-white Jodie Marsh look that too many people had been trying lately.
‘Why don’t you dance with Steve tonight?’ she suggested. ‘We can share him. It’s nowhere near as much fun without a partner.’
I hesitated. Surely it would spoil her night if she couldn’t practise? But she insisted it was cool. ‘You never know, Steve might be off one week,’ she said, grinning. ‘Then you can return the favour.’
She waved to Steve to come over. ‘Jen’s on her own tonight,’ she told him. ‘I’ve said we can share you. Is that gonna be okay?’
‘That’s fine with me,’ he replied, smiling at me for the first time. ‘But I don’t think I’m as good a dancer as Mike. You’ll have to be gentle with me.’
Steve took my hand and led me on to the floor. The moment his fingers closed around mine, I felt a tingle, the way you do when someone touches you for the very first time. Then he put his arm firmly around my waist, his fingers resting on the curve of my back, and we started to move.
He felt so different to Mike, much more dominant, like the male dancer should. Mike sort of took the lead, but he was often quite hesitant. Steve was the complete opposite. He knew exactly where on the dancefloor he wanted to go, when he wanted to spin me round, what moves we should go into, and I loved it. The music echoed around in my head, just like it always did, and I abandoned myself to the rhythm, letting the beat pound through my body, moving sexily beside Steve, just as I did with Mike. Even though Steve was slightly older, his body was firm and fit, and as our bodies pressed close I couldn’t help imagining him spinning me round, throwing up my skirt and fucking me hard from behind. My clit throbbed, just a little, and my face flushed with both the exertion from the dance and the sexy buzz between my legs.
Suddenly, a wave of guilt came over me. Salsa was sexy, everybody knew that, but it wasn’t fair to start fantasising over my married dance partner. And Steve and I were dancing very sexily – I wasn’t sure I’d be too keen seeing someone really go for it with Mike. I glanced over at Claire, hoping she wouldn’t be furious. She was watching us intently, with a huge smile on her face. Our eyes met, and she licked her lips. And in that instant, I knew it was turning her on.
We kept on dancing, Steve’s body pressed into mine, and as my leg brushed against his crotch I felt the beginnings of an erection. Thinking he’d be embarrassed, I looked away, but Steve spun me round, looked straight into my eyes, and smiled. Then he licked his lips slowly, too.
For the first time it crossed my mind that they might be swingers. I’d never tried anything like it, and until a few minutes earlier, I’d never thought I would. Not because I had anything against it, but because I couldn’t imagine the circumstances ever happening, or meeting two people I found fuckable enough. But the idea of a night with Steve and Claire was making me hornier by the second.
Claire and I took it in turns to dance with Steve, and I found myself watching them closely, turned on by the sight of them and the thought of what we could do to each other. She caught my eye a few times, and she knew what was in my mind. Claire and I exchanged a few knowing smiles.
At the end of the night we strolled outside and stopped by the Porsche.
‘Maybe you’d like to come back to our place,’ blurted out Claire suddenly. ‘We’ve got a jacuzzi, a pool – it’s a great place for a party.’
I knew exactly what she meant. She was making a pass. Even though we’d been flirting with our eyes all night, it was still quite a shock when she said it. And what about Mike? Maybe they weren’t swingers at all. Maybe they just wanted to have a threesome?
My clit was still swollen and I guessed hers was too. All I wanted to do was get in that car and fuck both of them. I’d slept with a woman once before, at college, and I could still remember the delicious taste of her cunt. The thought of going down on Claire while Steve fucked me from behind was almost impossible to turn down.
But I thought of Mike. He’d once – in a very drunken moment – confessed that a foursome was his ultimate fantasy. I couldn’t leave him out. Even though I couldn’t be sure that he’d say yes, I replied: ‘Sure, I’d love to. How about next week? After class? I could bring Mike . . .’
My voice tailed away, as blind panic took over. What if I’d misread all the signals? What if they were just being friendly? But Claire moved closer, to whisper in my ear. As she did so, she ran her fingers sideways over my skirt, brushing across my bump of pubic hair. ‘Next week,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t wait.’
The week passed in a blur. But how to put Mike in the picture? If I told him about what went on the night he’d missed the class, he might think I’d been secretly fucking Claire and Steve for weeks – it was difficult to explain how it just so happened that they’d suggested it. In reality there’d been a build-up, a gradual increase in the sexual tension that meant by the time Claire suggested it, my panties were already soaked at the thought. In the end I decided to mention it during sex.
We were in bed masturbating each other gently, when I whispered: ‘Did you mean what you said about a foursome?’
Mike’s finger pressed on my clit even harder and in my hand, his cock stiffened even more at the thought. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘But I’d never do anything unless you wanted to.’
‘I do want to,’ I went on. ‘You know that couple at salsa? Claire and Steve? She’s told me they’re swingers.’
‘Claire?’ he replied, so excited that a spurt of pre-cum leaked from his swollen dick. ‘The tall one? With the long hair?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, my grip tightening round his cock, rubbing it faster and faster between my fingers, circling and twisting the purple tip just how he liked it. ‘They’ve invited us back. This Friday, if you want to.’
His spunk flew out of his cock, and hit me straight in the face. I ran my finger through it and licked it off, the salty taste triggering my own orgasm.
‘I’ll take that as a yes, then,’ I said afterwards.
We didn’t mention it again. I think both of us were too embarrassed, and unsure if it was going to happen for real. Even on the way to the salsa class, neither of us said anything, though I’d brought myself off several times during the week at the thought.
The Porsche was already outside. Part of me had worried they’d back out, they wouldn’t be here and I’d be left worked up and frustrated. But Claire bounded over as usual, all smiles, though this time she gave us both a peck on the cheek. That night Steve was far less reserved, coming straight over to say hello.
‘Coming back later?’ whispered Claire, her eyes shining. ‘Both of you?’
I nodded. And for the next two hours Mike and I danced ourselves crazy, almost beside ourselves with arousal, at the thought of what we were going to do. Steve and Claire did the same. I noticed them watching us, their eyes drinking us in, just as we were doing back. My clit throbbed harder than ever, tempting me to masturbate myself quickly, but I knew my orgasm would be so much better if I could just hold on.
At the end of the night, smiling secretly to each other, we went out to our cars.
‘Why don’t you follow us?’ Claire suggested, as Steve slid into the driver’s seat.
‘Will we be able to park?’ I asked.
She laughed. ‘You’ll be able to do anything,’ she said, climbing into the front seat.
It was an hour’s drive out of town, into a wealthy suburb I’d never been to but had heard of because a lot of footballers lived there. I wondered vaguely why they travelled so far to a salsa class – there had to be one closer to home. Neither of us spoke much on the journey, too excited and too thrilled at what was to come. The houses – mansions would be a better description – were spread out along the wide, tree-lined road, each behind their own electric gates. Some were so huge and so secluded you couldn’t even see them from the road.
‘My God,’ Mike exclaimed. ‘Do you think they live round here?’
Before I could answer, the Porsche turned in towards an electric gate which opened slowly, and we followed it up a long, winding gravel drive. Suddenly the house came into view. It was simply enormous, flanked by Roman pillars and an immaculate landscaped garden complete with spot-lit marble statues and a fountain. In front of the triple garage was a Ferrari.
‘Come on in!’ called Claire, climbing out of the Porsche.
We crunched our way across the gravel and up the wide steps into the hallway. For the first time I began to wonder if we’d done the right thing. The house was so magnificent that I didn’t feel entirely at ease, the way you do when you arrive at a hotel that’s much more flash than you were expecting and wish you’d worn something smarter.
‘This place is amazing,’ I told her, as we all walked into a massive black-and-white marble entrance hall, with a wide staircase leading straight down into it. My salsa heels clicked on the hard floor.
‘Thanks,’ she replied. ‘Come on, let’s have a drink and a swim.’
She led us through the house, past a kitchen that was bigger than our entire flat, to a beautiful mood-lit indoor pool, the water shimmering blue. Around us, the glass walls reflected black from the darkness outside. Steve was already there, opening a bottle of champagne. He handed me a glass and I gulped most of it down in one go.
‘Let’s go for a dip,’ said Claire, pulling her salsa outfit over her head.
She was naked underneath, except for a tiny black lace thong, and her body was amazing – firm, tanned and slightly muscular. Mike’s eyes were fixed on her breasts, much smaller than mine, but pert enough to not need a bra. There was a definite bulge in his trousers, and I felt a slight twinge of jealousy, until I told myself that her tits were turning me on too.
Could I go through with this? It was now or never. I tugged down my zip and let my dress fall to the floor.
‘You won’t be needing this,’ Claire said gently, moving behind me and undoing my bra. I felt her breath on my neck as her lips brushed it, kissing me ever so gently as she released the straps. Now Steve’s eyes were on my tits, clearly loving every second, and I felt a warm, gorgeously fluttering sensation between the legs.
‘They’re beautiful,’ Claire said, looking down over my shoulder. ‘Come on! Why don’t we just dive in?’
She took another sip of champagne, placed her half-empty glass beside the pool and dived gracefully into the blue water, hardly making a splash. Beside me, Steve unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. His body was amazing for a man his age, strong and tanned, and his long, uncircumcised cock was already semi-erect, standing proudly from his thick, dark pubic hair. Steve walked to the edge of the pool, and I relished the sight of his pert, toned arse as he, too, gracefully dived in.
Unsure of what to do next, I looked at Mike for guidance. His erection was now a firm swelling clearly visible through his trousers and making me even more horny. At the far end of the pool, Claire and Steve were kissing in the water, their bodies pressed together. Mike pulled off his T-shirt and jeans, and took my hand, leading me down the pool steps.
‘Whatever happens,’ he said, ‘this is just sex. You know how much I love you.’
We swam to the end of the pool, my naked body enveloped in the beautifully warm water, which was chest-height all the way down, my tits floating happily. Claire immediately let go of Steve and swam towards me. Without a word, she slid her wet arms around me, pulling my mouth hungrily towards her, and we kissed hard, our tits rubbing against each other. It had been so long since I’d kissed a woman, but my right hand went instinctively to those small, pert breasts, cupping them, my fingers on her erect nipples. Suddenly I felt a body behind me, a hard cock pressing into my back. I didn’t know if it was Mike or Steve and I didn’t care. Claire stopped kissing me and her mouth joined with whoever was behind me, kissing them hard as they forced their cock upwards into my wet pussy.
I opened my eyes and saw Steve behind Claire, thrusting hard, obviously screwing her, so I knew it was Mike fucking me from behind and kissing Claire. His hands slid either side of me and on top of mine as both of us massaged Claire’s tits.
Suddenly Claire pushed backwards away from me, and I saw her and Steve in the water, fucking hard. Mike was still ramming his dick inside me as fast as he could, but his fingers were on my nipples now.
‘Let’s get out,’ Claire said, and the two of them swam to the ladder. With Mike still fucking me, I watched Claire pull herself out of the water, the thin string of her thong wedged hard into her arse. Behind her, Steve’s cock was at full height as he climbed the steps. She lay down on a huge double sunlounger beside the pool which was draped in a fluffy white towel, but Steve continued to watch Mike and me as he masturbated furiously.
‘Come on, let’s join them,’ I told Mike. I didn’t want Steve to come before I’d felt his cock inside me.
With a grunt, and a huge effort, Mike pulled out.
‘Come and lay between us, baby,’ Claire said to me, indicating a space between her and Steve.
I lay down on the sunlounger and they each kissed me in turn, starting at the lips and moving down to my pussy. Mike stood at the end of the sunlounger, rubbing his darkening cock harder and rougher than I’d ever seen anyone masturbate before. When they reached my clit, Claire and Steve both licked at my crack, running their tongues over and around my bud, my juices spilling all over their faces and the white towel. Suddenly I felt only one tongue on me. Claire was still bent over, her face close to my pussy, but Mike was fucking her from behind. His eyes were closed and he was thrusting deep into her, spearing her with all his might. I watched greedily, loving the sight of Mike fucking another woman, knowing his cock had just been inside me. Now it was my turn. I wanted to give him something to watch.
My hands reached down and pulled Steve up onto his back so our mouths were touching, sharing my juices. ‘I’m gonna suck your dick,’ I said loudly, making sure Mike heard it. He opened his eyes and watched as my lips kissed the end of Steve’s cock, running my tongue over the head and down the bulging shaft, over the huge engorged veins, as my fingers pressed into his perineum. The sight of me sucking off Steve was too much for Mike, and he gave a sudden gasp, pulled his cock out of Claire and shot an arc of spunk across the sunlounger, which landed on all of us. I knew Steve was close to orgasm too, but I wanted him inside me so badly, so I climbed on top. As Mike’s erection subsided, he watched hungrily as Steve’s still-erect cock speared into me and his fingers flicked against my clit.
Claire licked Mike’s spunk off her arm, then positioned her knees either side of Steve’s head, her cunt right over his face, so he could lick her while I fucked him. I looked down at her beautiful arse, sliding back and forth over her husband as she gasped with pleasure. She came first, her whole body convulsing on Steve’s face, her pussy almost suffocating him. At that moment, he shot his spunk deep into me too, and the warm, delicious feeling triggered my own, intense orgasm, shaking my whole body harder and longer than I’d ever experienced before.
We lay beside each other on the sunlounger, listening to the lapping water, until Claire stood up and dived in, swimming down the pool towards her champagne. I followed her, Steve’s cum leaving a silky trail behind me as it floated out of my pussy.
‘That was amazing,’ she said, smiling, as I poured myself a fresh glass of bubbly.
Steve and Mike swam down too, and we all got dressed, sipping champagne and chatting about the salsa class as if nothing had happened.
‘We’d better get home,’ I said, draining my glass. Claire and Steve led us to the door, where we kissed each other goodbye on the cheek. ‘See you soon,’ shouted Claire as we disappeared down the drive.
My clit was already beginning to throb and I knew Mike and I would fuck again as soon as we got in the front door. Which we did. We agreed it had been an amazing, one-off experience.
The following week, Mike and I went along to the salsa class, slightly nervous about seeing Claire and Steve. But they never came back. We knew where they lived, of course, but for us it was a one-off, and I think they knew that. I’m convinced they went round different beginners’ classes, looking for likely couples to swing with – and for all I know, they still are. I never knew how much fun it could be fucking friends.