Week Eight - The Story

She moved like a dancer. That was the first thing I noticed, her sinuous, graceful movements on the dance floor as the coloured lights bathed her body in red, blue and magenta by turns. She tossed her head, hair flying - brown or auburn? It was hard to tell in the coloured light.

My personal cards burned in my back pocket. I had a mission tonight. Here was a likely target. Should I wait for her to leave the dance floor and try to talk to her? No, I would most likely lose her in the crowd. Better to approach her now. I took to the floor, inching around other dancers. Thankfully, she seemed to be alone just lost in the music and uncaring of who was around her. I came within range of her, and started to dance, echoing her movements as I did. The music was not anything I recognised, but the deep bass was easy to move to, and I let myself feel it vibrating up through the floor to my fingertips.

I tried to engage her slowly, starting with a few fleeting glances before holding my stares longer. It took a little while, but she she did start to take notice and I was satisfied when she started to return my gaze. I moved closer to her, and soon we were no longer solo dancers, but dancing together. Not touching, not holding, but moving with each other, acknowledging each other in the motions of the dance. The dance tracks from the DJ melted into one another and we continued to dance for what could have been minutes or hours, I couldn't tell. After some time, she leaned in to me and tried to talk over the thumping bass. I shook my head, I couldn't hear a word - it was too loud. I gestured to the entrance, we could go outside where it was quieter, she nodded.

Outside the club in the cool air, we rested on the steps and finally spoke. Auburn, I noted, as the brighter light of the streetlights illuminated her true hair colour. She told me her name, I told her mine. We exchanged pleasantries for a while – jobs, partners, details... discovering shared interests.

She complained of the music in the club. It used to be better, too thumpy now, too hard to dance to, too hard to talk over. Perhaps she’d rather go somewhere quieter? I proposed. She hesitated, but said ok – why not? We walked for a short while, seeking a café or quiet bar but came up with nothing. We could go back to my place, I ventured carefully, I have drinks and music and I live close by. She seemed in two minds, but I know the attraction I was feeling was not one sided. We hailed a cab.

Nerves hit me as I unlocked the door. I was home alone tonight, A had given me run of the apartment in aid of my mission. I fixed us drinks and we chatted some more. Eventually, I got to the burning question – would you mind if we took this further? A shy nod, and then my lips were on hers, deliciously soft and tasting of lime and vodka. Lips led to tongues and soon hands were touching, searching over satin and corsetry. I fell back on the couch, pulling her atop me and our bodies meshed together in a tangle of limbs, the warm throbbing between my legs barely assuaged by the press of her thigh. We ground against each other, tongues touching and lips caressing, my fingers tangling in the lacings of her corset.

She laughed with me as I struggled with the fastenings, helping me remove it. Beneath, her breasts were small but perfectly formed, and she sighed when I drew first one nipple, then the other into my mouth. Clothing became too restrictive and piece by piece it all came off, except for my boots which would have taken far too long, and soon it was flesh melting into flesh and I could feel the wetness of her sex against my thigh. We ground together like that for as long as we could stand it, but it was me who broke it, easing her onto her back and sliding my tongue from her neck down to her waiting wetness. She tasted wonderful, warm and hot, and I soon discovered the barest brush of teeth sent her into joyful fits of ecstasy. I stroked her breasts with one hand, while the other had fingers buried deep in her warmth as my tongue worked her clit.

This went on for some time, but soon the tell tale moans and motions of orgasm came on and I was entirely satisfied to note she was not at all quiet in her appreciation. I think my neighbors may be unhappy with me... I barely had time to remove my mouth from her still throbbing clit when she pounced on me, returning the favour with equal fervour. Sighs and giggles punctuated our post orgasm pillow talk, as we were both rendered slightly goofy from the release. We fell asleep spooned, and I thought of how A would probably find us like that when he arrived home in the morning.