Dangerously In Love by Allison Hobbs Page A

gown and then slowly lowered the other. The men gasped as if baring a shoulder was the equivalent of parting her vaginal lips and inviting them all to explore the mysteries of her dark and forbidden womanhood.
    Feeling extremely powerful, Chanelle unhurriedly removed the fringed dress, exposing her beautiful blackness as she stripped down to just a slinged thong and a push-up bra. The uptight bunch of brokers went wild, blanketing the floor with cash. A pelvic thrust as she cupped and caressed her crotch sent the crowd into a frenzy that inspired another shower of greenbacks.
    Strangely, she was falling head over heels in love with a profession she thought she despised. She couldn’t imagine why she had considered the privilege of displaying her beauty and talent as something unwholesome and demeaning.
    As a finale, Chanelle whipped around and worked the muscles of each buttock. In other words, she gave the audience her spectacular ass—to kiss.
    After stashing her cash, Chanelle rushed to the rear to continue the sex play with Brad. She found him in the kitchen having a heated argument with a short and rather scrawny man who was holding a pitcher of a pastel-colored daiquiri he’d concocted in the blender.
    The drink looked delicious. With her mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert, she was about to ask the short man to give her a glass of the exotic-looking drink. But there was something in the icy look the man gave her that made her change her mind. That look and the tone of the quarrel between the two men made Chanelle raise a puzzled brow. She left the kitchen to look for another male playmate.
    Someone placed a single chair in the middle of the dance area. Lexi pointed to the chair and announced gaily, “And now, it’s time for Trevor to have his last hurrah!”
    “Trevor, Trevor, Trevor,” the intoxicated attendees began to chant as they craned their necks in search of the guest of honor. Chanelle stopped working the crowd long enough to catch a glimpse of the elusive Trevor.
    Annoyed, Trevor emerged from the kitchen, gave the drunken crowd an impatient look, and said, “Give me a second.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
    Chanelle couldn’t have been more surprised that the disgruntled “Daiquiri Dan” was Trevor, the guest of honor. She took a few seconds to ponder what was going on in the kitchen and decided that Trevor and Brad were probably having a dispute over the thing people argue about most—money.
    “Sensation,” Lexi called. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Trevor, but the boys are getting restless. Would you be a dear and give another performance?”
    “No problem,” Chanelle replied, feeling uplifted and unusually happy.
    “Mandy’s gonna join you,” Lexi quickly added.
    “Okay.” Chanelle smiled brightly. All was well in her world.
    It was hard to catch a groove dancing to Mandy’s ridiculous music, but Chanelle rode the bass line and then started moving as if she owned the song.
    In fact, she forgot Mandy was a part of the performance until Mandy sidled up to her and attempted to match the swings and sways of Chanelle’s womanly hips. It was an impossible task. Mandy quickly gave up and got the attention of the spectators by brazenly stroking Chanelle’s private parts.
    Revved up and sexually aroused, the guys started sticking five-dollar bills in Mandy’s G-string, encouraging her to escalate the sex play. Taking a surprisingly willing Chanelle by the hand, Mandy took a seat in the designated bachelor’s chair and invited Chanelle to join her. Chanelle bent over and pushed her ample derriere between Mandy’s thin white thighs.
    It was a totally new feeling. Feminine softness replaced the hard dick Chanelle was accustomed to feeling against her butt. Moreover, the sheer decadence of the routine was a turn-on. As Chanelle grinded her ass into Mandy’s crotch, Mandy groped around and unhooked Chanelle’s bra, exposing her breasts. The contrast of Mandy’s white