Standard disclaimer applies: This story contains fictional depictions of erotic and vulgar scenarios, so if it's immoral for you to be reading it, please avoid it! All characters are at least eighteen, all situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life situations is entirely coincidental.
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The makeshift dance floor pulsed like a living organism, a writhing mass of bodies moving in sync to the relentless beat. Sasha, perched behind her elaborate DJ setup, was a maestro conducting a symphony of bass and synth. Sweat glistened on her brow as her fingers flew across the equipment, eyes closed in concentration.