Dancing With A Dom: A BBW Romance Read Online Free PDF

I didn’t like sudden changes, and my new partner seemed to have forgotten that.
    “Change of plans.” Pulling me in front of the large wall of mirrors, he kissed the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. Those dark eyes peered right through me, past the wall of fear and the need for control. “Don’t dance. Don’t think. Just feel.”
    That’s what he had been saying about everything we did the past two weeks. “Just feel.”
    Those words had found me flat on my back, on my knees, over his knee, beneath him, above him… Sometimes dancing. Other times… the sex… Yeah, he still called it dancing, but it was way more than dancing. He was my Dom, and I his sub. Sometimes he called me sub or subbie. Others he called me little girl . He was the only man in the world big enough to call me little. Yes, he was physically taller, larger, and stronger. But it wasn’t that kind of big. He was bigger .
    “John and I are going to sit here and watch you, little girl. You are going to let go and feel the music how you want to. Explore the music; how it fills you; how it makes you feel. Let your body react in whatever way you like. We are going to watch you explore yourself. Are you okay with that?”
    We had talked a few nights ago. Maybe it was the epically mind-blowing orgasms, or the fact that I had sobbed in his arms because of the beauty of how he made me feel. I don’t know why, but I opened up, and it all came tumbling out. My desires to try rougher sex, for him to talk dirty to me, pull my hair, shove his thick cock in my mouth—or my bottom… And after seeing myself orgasm in front of that large wall of mirrors, I couldn’t get enough… Watching… Being watched. Being seen, really truly seen. I had an exhibitionist side I wanted to explore, and he knew it. The question was, could I let go, dance for them, explore where the music took me? To be honest, I wanted to try something crazy and different also.
    Okay. Why not? One just feel dance coming up.
    Dane backed away to take a seat on one of the chairs against the opposite wall, motioning for John to back off and do the same.
    I cleared my throat and pulled my hair into a long ponytail as he turned on his MP3 player. Low thumping music with strong native beats and instruments echoed through the room.
    “Leave your hair down, little girl,” Dane commanded. “I like the way it moves with your body.”
    Rhythm embraced me, warming me, making me feel bold. Averting my eyes, I stared at a large panel above their heads, not sure if I should ignore them.
    “Look at us.”
    I met their gazes. John had set the camera on top of his knee and was leaning forward, his eyes flickering with interest. I swallowed and started swaying to the music. My hips had a mind of their own, catching each beat of the wooden drum. Back, forth, left, right, lazily swinging. I liked this feeling. Their eyes focused on me, only me, darkening with lust with each thrust and grind I made.
    “Let us fuck you with our eyes,” Dane growled.
    Oh God, yes . My heart hammered; my breaths quickened. The music surged through me, making me feel alive. I forgot all about strong frames and heel turns as I bent and trembled, tilting my pelvis. My breasts swung from side to side as I undulated for my audience.
    My hair swept across my face as I whipped my head around, never losing eye contact with the men in front of me.
    They leaned forward, elbows braced on their knees.
    I sank to mine.
    The door opened and another man walked in, closing it firmly behind him. I think his name was Mac.
    Dane tilted his head, a questioning gaze in his eyes. Was I okay with this?
    Nodding, I grinned and pointed toward the back wall. Who would have thought I could get so turned on by the thought of three men watching me dance? I wiggled my ass and bent over with a quick whipping motion of my hair.
    Grabbing my tits, I thrust them out and against the black cotton of my tank top. I was wearing the special kind of