The Club

By Tom Covenent

Though happily married, Donald still shields a taboo fantasy so erotic and so sensual that he cannot help but devise a plan to make his desire come to pass. Using a dancer as a guise, excitement bubbles when he finally steps into the world of voyeurism.

But his wife Diana is no stranger to the club or to the dancer. When they disappear from sight, Donald is left alone and confused. Apparently by chance, he meets the enigmatic Stirling and is given an invitation into the exclusive Member's only area.

When faced with an explosive turn of events, will he relinquish or step beyond his boundaries?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tom Covenent
• Release date: Feb 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310986321

Tom Covenent

Specialising in real erotic situations, you will find no millionaires, no shades of grey, just red hot sex. In his fifties, married, Tom likes to write about wives and husbands sexual awakenings. A lover of lingerie and sometimes not a little kinky.

Book preview

Beyond Their Boundaries Part 1: The Club

By: Tom Covenent (previously writing as Dan Cocker)

Copyright 2013 by Tom Covenent (formerly writing as Dan Cocker)

Edited by Edited by Kat Marshall and Colette Stone

Cover art by Dan Cocker

SMASHWORDS Edition

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Music and dancers filled the basement club with a sensual heat that was as palpable as the smoke from the diners’ cigarettes. The dance floor was small, though mirrors on its three confining walls flattered it with a reflected throng. It was filled with far too many couples for its size. Among them, I only had eyes for one. In the low light, too often obscured by other partners, their sensual movements continued half imagined. But I saw enough to feed my jealous mind; it filled in any gaps.

They danced a slow dance, their bodies moving in reflected synchronicity with the evocative tones of a tenor saxophone. The beat was slow, the rhythm throbbing like a pulse. Their hands began to roam beyond the dance, exploring curves, slopes, mounds, dips, and valleys, as if each were a sculptor creating a living body beneath the manipulation of artistic finger tips.

I watched as did others, but unlike theirs, my lust was imperfect, corrupted by an unexpected surge of jealousy. I felt the urge to halt the dance, but let myself surrender to desire. Gazing at the couple with anxious yet excited eyes, I watched them dance, a culpable voyeur.

Breathlessly, I followed the large hands on their smooth path under the roundness of her flexing, swaying hips. Her partner’s fingers spread and pressed into the black cotton of her dress. The man kneaded her like clay, her movements joined with his as if conspiring to ease her dress up higher. The delicately intricate leaf pattern of her stocking tops slid into view. I glimpsed the strap of her garter belt. A thrust of her thighs and her dress was at her waist, tight black satin swept high over the white curve of an exposed buttock. Ebony fingers spread like living lace in sharp contrast with her pale skin. Their blunt tips pressed her flesh, sliding beneath her panties. Perhaps it was a part of the dance for her to spread her feet a little wider, or perhaps a conscious move to ease her partner’s access. I had often imagined