A Dance in the Dark (Exclusive)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

A Dance in the Dark

Paris was one hell of a place to visit, Harry discovered. It had been a year to the day since Voldemort's death, and Harry had not wanted to mark it at all, but Bill insisted. Bill even picked the venue. Rue du Sorcier was the wizarding alley’s most notorious street. It was three whole blocks of sex shops, bars, and clubs. The air smelled of perfume, spilled wine, and pipe smoke.

Harry, Bill, and Ron crowded around a table, drinks in hand, and in the center of the club, the main stage shimmered. Bill called the place "Le Désir Nu," and apparently, he had been here before. The club wasn’t cheap by any means. The floors were black marble, the firewhiskey came in blue glass bottles, and the dancers were incredible. One literally floated above the stage with translucent veils swirling behind her. Her legs were as smooth as silk. Another breathed actual fire as she danced and twirled. The third dancer they saw was part Veela, Bill claimed, and Ron nearly passed out when she made eye contact.

Ron had dressed up for the occasion, though he somehow still looked out of place. He was already three shots in, and his cheeks glowed red as if he’d been baked in the sun. Bill sipped a drink like he didn’t have a care in the world. Bill always looked so calm, even while leering. Harry was a little uncomfortable at first, but after the first drink, he began to loosen up. 

On stage, the Veela dropped her transparent lingerie, exposing a small triangle of black silk between her legs. She smirked and twirled her finger. The silk fell away, floating down to Ron's lap like a handkerchief. Ron held it up, stared, then pressed it to his nose and inhaled deeply.

Bill roared, pounding the table. "She's going to hex your balls off, mate," he said.

Ron grinned like an idiot. "Worth it."

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes at his friend. He chanced a glance at the dancer, and she locked eyes with him. Her face was stunningly beautiful, and she shared many of the same physical qualities with the Delacour women. She winked at Harry, and he smiled back. 

The next act came out. It was a pair of olive-skinned beauties with dark, glossy hair. They spun around each other, stripping down in perfect symmetry. One took the pole between her thighs and spun around with amazing, effortless control. The other cast small illusions in the air. A storm of black butterflies settled on her own naked body and then melted away into glitter.

Ron was nearly sliding off his stool. "Bloody hell," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

Harry took a long drink. He could feel the warmth in his chest. He tried not to imagine what the women in their lives would say if they discovered that they had visited such a place. They were grown men now. They could ogle and drink and enjoy themselves to their heart’s content. Of course, that wouldn’t stop Hermione and Fleur from giving them a piece of their minds. 

There was a tap on his elbow, and he turned. A woman perched herself on the empty chair next to him. She was tall, with legs made to be worshipped, and her blonde hair was pinned in a perfect knot. She wore a glossy black bodysuit that was very low-cut and high at the hips, the Le Désir Nu logo glittering at her left breast.

"Hello, monsieur," she said. Her voice was slightly deep and velvety. It was much smoother and more refined than that of the giggling dancers. "You look like you could use some company."

Harry blinked as he looked at her. She was older than the other dancers, but no less sexy. Her pale skin was flawless, and her eyes were a cool blue. Her makeup was dark, giving her a gothic look. Her perfume was intoxicating and smelled expensive. He obviously didn’t know her, but something about her felt familiar.

She smiled, leaning in. Her lips grazed the rim of his glass. "Are you alone?"

Harry nodded at Ron and Bill. "I'm with them."

She looked at the pair of redheads. "They seem very ... occupied."

Ron was trying to stuff a galleon into the Veela's garter. Bill was laughing so hard that his drink had slopped over the table.

The woman let out a soft laugh. "Perhaps you would prefer a ... private dance, monsieur?"

Harry blinked again. The offer was so direct he nearly choked. "Um … I've never …"

She put her hand over his, pressing it flat to the table. Her fingers were incredibly soft. The woman had obviously never performed any kind of manual labor in her life. She traced his knuckles with a fingernail. "It’s no trouble," she said. "We are very discreet here."

He stared at her. There was a sliver of silver in her blonde hair, shining in the candlelight. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her expression was unreadable. "Alright," Harry said, surprising himself. "Sure."

She smiled wider. Her teeth were white and perfectly straight. She slid off the chair and extended a hand. Ron caught his eye and smiled widely. "Go on, mate! Live a little!"

Harry felt his cheeks heat slightly, but he couldn’t deny that he was excited about it. He let the woman guide him by the hand. They passed through the edge of the crowd, through a bead curtain shimmering with blue crystals, and into a small alcove with velvet benches. The woman gestured for him to sit. She settled on the bench beside him, her knees touching his. Her thighs were bare and gleaming.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, um. What's your name?"

She smiled, her lips curving slowly. "We use stage names," she told him.

Harry stared at her. The light in the alcove was a bit brighter. Her skin was pale and perfect, and her lips were a deep red. Her high cheekbones, her small nose, her full lips … he knew he’d seen them all before. In the brighter light of the alcove, Harry finally realized why she felt so familiar. 

He swallowed. "Mrs. Malfoy?"

Her smile froze, and for a moment, she seemed ready to bolt. She studied his face, and her eyes went wide when she realized who he was. Then she let out a tiny, brittle laugh.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," she said in a low voice.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He could not reconcile this Narcissa Malfoy, sitting beside him in a strip club, with the woman he'd met years ago. The Narcissa Malfoy he had met was a snooty pureblood who wouldn’t have stepped foot within a hundred yards of a place like this. She looked softer here, like the world had worn her down a little, but her gaze was no less sharp.

She looked at her hands, smoothing the edge of her bodysuit. "I had hoped ... well. I had hoped that no one from Britain would ever see me here."

Harry shook his head. "My lips are sealed," he said, automatically.

She looked up, her blue eyes glinting. "Thank you."

He tried to read her face. He could not tell if she was angry, embarrassed, or just exhausted. They sat in silence. He glanced around the alcove and realized he was still holding her hand. He let go. "Sorry."

She laughed again, this time with real warmth. "You’ve grown up, Mr. Potter," she said. "I suppose that makes sense."

Harry looked at her. The bodysuit was tight and clinging to her sexy curves. Her hair was longer than he remembered, pinned up with silver combs. There was a constellation of faint freckles on her collarbone. He wanted to say something, but the words failed him.

"So," she said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "About that private show?"

Harry's mouth went dry. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Narcissa stood up and took his hand again, pulling him gently to his feet. Her perfume smelled stronger from up close, and the heat of her body made his cock twitch in his trousers. She led him deeper into the club, past a row of red doors, and down a narrow corridor lined with portraits of old Parisian witches in various states of undress. She stopped at a door, drew a wand from a hidden pocket, and flicked it. The door swung open.

Inside was a dimly lit, plush room with mirrored walls and a ceiling draped in red silk. A velvet couch ran the entire length of the far end of the room, and half the walls on either side. In front of it was a tiny table set with glasses and a small black box.

Narcissa let go of his hand and turned to face him. She stood in front of the mirrors with one hand on her cocked hip. Her posture was perfect as always. Harry realized he was staring. He looked away, only to meet her eyes in the glass.

She smiled amusedly. "Relax, Mr. Potter," she said. "I won't bite."

Harry sat on the couch, and his heart pounded so loud he was sure she could hear it. She paced a slow circle in front of him, letting her heels click against the tiled floor. "It’s customary to pay up front," she said, the formality in her voice a remnant of the old Malfoy pride. "But I’ll make an exception for you."

Harry reached into his pocket, producing a handful of Galleons. He realized he had no idea what the going rate was for this sort of thing, and Narcissa had never stated a price. He offered her the coins.

She took them, her nails cool against his palm. "Very generous," she said. He wanted to say something clever, but he knew he would just end up saying something dumb.

Narcissa set the coins on the table, then turned her back to him. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, straightened her posture, and, with a slow, deliberate tug, she slipped the straps of her bodysuit down from her shoulders. She caught his gaze in the glass and smirked.

Narcissa peeled the bodysuit lower, exposing the smooth length of her back and the round curves of her hips. She stepped out of the garment, folding it neatly and laying it on the table. Underneath, she wore nothing but a tiny scrap of black material that barely covered anything.

She turned to face him, her hands on her hips. She posed by arching her back and making her full, perky breasts stand out. Her nipples pressed hard against the thin fabric of her bikini top. She reached up, removed the combs from her hair, and then shook it loose. Harry stared, unable to look away.

Narcissa approached him, her hips bouncing with every step. She slid onto the couch beside him, her thigh pressed to his. The scent of her perfume was all around him, and it made his pulse quicken. She cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers. "You don't have to be nervous," she smiled sexily. "You're not a boy anymore."

He watched as she leaned in, her lips brushing his. Her soft hand rested on his chest. "Would you like to touch me?" she whispered.

“Yes,” he said as his cock throbbed in his trousers, and she guided his hand to her hip. Her skin was warm and softer than he imagined. He let his fingers wander, caressing the curve of her waist and the dip of her belly. She let out a breathy moan and leaned into his touch. Narcissa shuddered when his fingers tickled the smooth, exposed upper portion of her mound. 

"You have seen me at my worst, Mr. Potter," she said. "Tonight, you can see me at my best."

Harry ran his hand up her lower belly, and his finger dipped into her belly button. Narcissa giggled and stood up, momentarily ending his fun. She walked over to the wall and opened a secret compartment. Harry couldn’t help but stare at her bouncing ass cheeks. From it, she pulled a chilled bottle of champagne. She came back to the couch and poured two glasses, handing one to Harry. They sipped the bubbly while Narcissa seductively stroked his thigh with her hand. He set down his glass. "So, I was wondering. Why are you …?" He began, only to get cut off by her.

She chuckled, expecting this question. "Why am I working in a place like this?"

He nodded, his cheeks burning. Narcissa looked down at her drink and rolled the stem of the glass between her fingers. "After the trial … after Lucius went away …" She paused. "The family home and accounts were seized. There was nothing left, and no one in England wanted to hire a Malfoy."

She sipped her champagne, then set the glass down. "I tried for months. I tried everything, even for simple work. I have … expensive tastes, and this place pays very well."

Harry still couldn’t understand it. "But why here?"

She smiled, a hint of the old self showing. "France is more forgiving. No one here cares who I used to be. I thought it would be safe and anonymous."

"I promise not to say anything," he assured her.

She laughed lightly. "That is kind. You always were."

Narcissa leaned in, her voice low and amused. "Did you know Draco works in a bistro down the street? He thinks I’m an interior designer."

Harry stared at her in surprise. He couldn’t imagine Draco doing that kind of work any more than he could imagine Narcissa doing this kind. Her full lips pulled into a real smile, her white teeth showing. "He would die if he knew."

"I’m sorry you had to go through that. It sucks,” Harry said as he sipped from his glass. 

She squeezed his thigh, and her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch. "Don’t be. I chose this, and I don’t hate it. In fact, I actually enjoy it. I love wrapping men around my little fingers. I love making them squirm, and most of all, I love how sexy it makes me feel," she said, angling her body so he got a full view of her deep cleavage. If she wanted to show it, Harry was more than happy to look. Narcissa chuckled and patted his thigh. “Why don’t we get this party started?” she said with a sexy smile. 

Narcissa got up and leaned over, scooping the coins into her hand. Her big tits dangled right in front of his face, and Harry had to stop himself from reaching out for a squeeze. Narcissa then turned and walked to the wall. The tiny string nestled between her pillowy cheeks did nothing to hide her cock-hardening curves from his view. She walked to a small panel in the wall and began pushing galleons into a small slot. Each coin chimed as she dropped it into the slot. Not all of the coins he gave her went in. Some were put aside for her to collect later. Harry supposed she was keeping them as a tip. When the last coin slid in, music began to play in the room. It was a low, throbbing beat that made the room vibrate.

Narcissa faced him, her high-heeled feet wide apart, and her hands behind her back. She looked confident and sexy as she began to move. Harry almost forgot to breathe. The way she danced was nothing like the stage girls. There was no pretense, and no flirtatious giggling. It was just pure seduction set to music. The black triangles of her bikini shifted with each roll of her hips, and she ran her hands over her body, arching her back and cupping her breasts through the thin fabric. Her nipples were rock-hard and pointing straight at him.

She turned and ran both hands up her thighs, then over her ass, squeezing the flesh with a wicked smile. Her cheeks spread apart, and Harry could see her puckered asshole just below the thin black string. She looked over her shoulder, daring him to look away. He didn’t dare. Instead, Harry’s cock strained in his trousers.

She prowled toward him, dropping to her knees and crawling the last step. She put her hands on his knees, parted them, and pushed herself up until she was between his thighs, her face inches from his. He could smell her perfume and feel her warm, pleasant breath on his skin. Narcissa leaned in and pecked his lips before standing up. 

She straddled his lap, pressing her cunt right on the bulge in his trousers. She rocked her hips and ground into him. The heat from her body soaked through the layers of fabric. Before he could even decide what to do, Narcissa took his wrists and placed them on her waist. "Touch me," she whispered. It was clearly an order.

Her skin was as soft as silk. He squeezed her lovely flesh, and she shuddered. She rolled her hips again, pinning him to the couch. "Good boy," she murmured.

The music thumped, and her body moved in perfect time, undulating against him. She peeled the bikini top away, letting her tits fall free. They were heavy, perky, and perfectly round. The areolas were pale with small, stiff nipples that begged to be sucked.

Harry reached for them, and she caught his hands and guided them, making him squeeze and knead her flesh. She hissed in approval, grinding her pussy harder into his lap. The beat slowed, and she followed, drawing out the movements of her hips while holding his gaze. She pressed a breast to his mouth, and he latched on, sucking gently. Narcissa moaned and arched her back, stuffing more of her tit into his mouth. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled, making him look up.

"Don’t hold back," she said.

He followed her command and bit, sucked, and tongued her nipples, feeling her body tremble against his. She let him play, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Her hips never stopped moving. She arched her back, and her tits glistened with saliva. She ground into him, and he felt the wet heat of her pussy through the black material. It was almost overwhelming. The song shifted and grew louder.

Narcissa’s eyes sparkled. "Are you enjoying your private show, Mr. Potter?" Harry could only nod. His mouth was full of tit.

She laughed and pushed his head back, standing up in one smooth movement. She slipped her fingers into the sides of her bikini and peeled it down slowly. The thin string got caught between her ass cheeks before it dropped to the floor.

She was completely naked, except for the high heels, of course. Her pussy was shaved bare, with only a neat little landing strip above it. Her pink and slick inner lips peeked out from between her plump, hairless outer lips. She stroked herself, spread her folds, and showed him everything.

Harry stared, unable to look away. She stepped back into his lap and rubbed her pussy against his erection. She pulled his hand between her legs and made him touch her. She didn’t stop until his fingers slid inside. Narcissa was hot and dripping wet. She rode his hand, grinding against him with her eyes locked to his. He fingered her gently at first, but the rougher he got, the more she moaned. She took his other hand and placed it on her ass, guiding his fingers between her cheeks. She moved his hand until his fingers were pressed against her hole. She seemed to like that, so much so that she kissed him deeply. Narcissa moaned into his mouth before pulling away. She stood back up. 

She shook her shoulders, making her tits jiggle side to side. Each motion set them swinging and slapping softly against her chest. She cupped them and pushed them up. She squeezed her tits then let them fall. She pinched her nipples and rolled them until they were even harder. Narcissa then slid her hands down her belly, over her thighs, and straight to her pussy.

She crouched in front of him, spread her knees wide, and began to finger herself. She looked him in the eye and breathed heavily. Two fingers pumped back and forth while her other hand was busy on her clit. She moaned softly and kept eye contact. She licked her lips, then stood and turned her back.

She bent at the waist and placed her hands on the glass table. Her ass was jutting out. It was round and jiggly, and her skin was creamy and smooth. She wiggled it from side to side, faster and faster, until her cheeks clapped together and jiggled out of sync. She looked over her shoulder and smirked.

"Do you like my ass, Mr. Potter?" she asked in a husky voice.

“It’s incredible,” he said as he continued to stare. She came back to him, climbed onto the couch, and planted one knee on each side of his head.

Her pussy hovered right above his mouth, and the scent hit him. It was overpowering, and it made his cock strain with need. She lowered herself slowly, until her folds brushed his upper lip, and her clit was an inch from his nose. Harry looked up at her. Narcissa smiled, and then, with both hands, took his head and shoved it up, burying his face in her pussy.

To say Harry licked her was an understatement. He devoured her wet pussy, and Narcissa moaned. She ground herself against him, moving her hips in tight circles. She was soaking wet, and the taste of her filled his mouth. He flicked her clit with his tongue, which made her gasp and grab his hair.

She rode his face harder, not holding back, and not even pretending it wasn’t about her pleasure. She pressed down, smothering him. She stuffed her clit into his mouth and forced his lips to latch on. He struggled for breath, but she wouldn’t let up. She just fucked his tongue, her hips rolling, until she started to spasm. Then, with a high-pitched cry, she came hard, her thighs squeezing his ears.

She lifted up, gasping for breath. Her juices were smeared on his lips and chin, and her eyes were bright and triumphant. Narcissa let out a real, deep laugh and slid down to his lap. She reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them with expert fingers. His cock sprang out, hard and ready to go. She whistled softly. "Very nice," she said, and stroked it slowly. "You’re full of surprises, Mr. Potter."

She knelt between his knees, wrapped her lips around the head, and sucked. He shuddered from the wet pressure around his cock. He’d had blowjobs before, but never like this. The woman was an expert, and she clearly wanted to make an impression on him. She hollowed her cheeks and tongued the underside of his head while her eyes were fixed on him. She bobbed up and down, taking him deeper each time, until he felt the back of her throat. She swallowed, and the sensation nearly made him cum.

She sensed it and pulled off, grinning. "Not yet. I’m not done playing."

She stood, turned, and planted her ass in his face again. He understood exactly what she wanted. He spread her cheeks and dove in, licking her asshole and tonguing it, until Narcissa was a quivering mess. Narcissa groaned and arched her back. She reached down and took his cock in her hand. She started pumping him, stroking in rhythm to his tongue.

She started to grind on him, her ass slapping his nose, and her hole opened with each thrust. She wanted him to worship her ass, and he did. He rimmed her, sucked, licked, and nipped gently. She loved every second of it.

After a while, she turned, straddled him again, and pressed her tits to his face. They were huge, heavy, and hot. She rubbed them all over his cheeks, forehead, and mouth, smearing his face with her scent. She leaned forward and mashed her nipples into his lips. "Suck," she begged, and he did just that. He lightly bit, tugged, and sucked hard. Narcissa whimpered and squeezed his cock harder, milking him for all he was worth.

She moved up, squatted over his lap, and lined his cock up with her pussy. “I don’t do this with my clients, but once again, I’ll make an exception for you,” Narcissa moaned as she rubbed the head up and down her dribbling slit. 

She sank down on it. He slid in, and her pussy was impossibly tight and wet, which set every nerve ending on fire. She started to ride him, picking up the tempo with every roll of her hips. Her tits bounced wildly, her belly rippled, and her pussy gripped him in fluttering waves. She fucked him hard, never breaking eye contact. Her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was a little sweaty. 

He grabbed her hips and tried to control the pace, but she was having none of that. She took him to the hilt over and over again, her ass slamming against his thighs, and her tits slapping his chin.

She was getting close, and he felt her body tense, and her walls flutter around his cock. She gasped loudly and clutched his cock as she violently orgasmed, grinding down on him and shuddering. Harry couldn’t hold back. He exploded inside of her, his cock pulsing as he filled her with spurt after spurt. Cum leaked out around his shaft, dribbled down his balls, and soaked the couch.

She collapsed forward, burying his face in her tits. Her soft, feathery hair fell over him, and she kissed the top of his head and gently bit his ear. Narcissa stayed on top of him while her pussy continued to milk his cock. He let out a deep breath and kissed her nipple. She rolled off him, and they both groaned as his cock slipped from her tight depths. Her eyes were mischievous.

"You know, Mr. Potter … For the right price, I’m willing to give you a private performance at your house. Are you interested?"

Harry laughed, spent and satisfied. "Absolutely."

“Excellent! I’ll send you an owl.” Narcissa winked. She picked up her bikini, slipped it on, and let herself out, her hips swaying the whole way. She left Harry alone, sticky with her wetness. He couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cock away and went to join his mates.