Chapter Three
There were stars painted in the ceiling of the nightclub and a hanging ball of tiny mirrors that twirled slowly at the center of the pulsating dance floor. A band played in one corner, music that swelled into the air leaving no room to talk, and hardly space to think.
Oliver sat at his table on the edge of the balcony looking down on the mass of hot and throbbing bodies pressed together, cunts to groins, hips and asses, p*****s and c***s playing for each other as though the entire club would suddenly divest itself of its fancy clothing and descend into a lecherous orgy. There were sequins, spangles, leather, lace and tightly fitting spandex, covering as little as possible to suggest the erotic possibilities available for the night. In the center of the delicious madness wer
