Scintillectually Yours

You are watching me dance. I can feel your eyes on me as I lose myself in the frenzy of the music, the hot lights, the sweat soaked bodies around me. I dance with no one and everyone. Now I dance for you. I know you are watching my jean clad ass, my breasts under the light silk cami that now clings to my braless skin. I give myself over to abandon as the bass drums its way into my very groin. Or are those just thoughts of you and what may lie ahead for us?

The DJ switches to crappy house shit and I step off the dance floor and head back to my table. My friends are still dancing and I light a cigarette to keep myself busy as I lean back in the leather banquette to survey the crowd. I see you at the bar just as a waitress comes by with a screwdriver. I start to object but she points back to you and you raise your own glass to me. I understand that this is your opening bet and decide to play it to the end.
I pick up my glass and head for the empty stool next to you, perching myself on it I raise my finger to my lips, gesturing to you not to speak, and then lay my hand across your thigh. I can see that you are packing and the very thought feels comfortably warm between my legs. I take you into consideration with one sidelong glance. You are just my type…taller than me, good looking without being too movie star handsome, cocky. Light hair and amazing eyes, your mouth looks made to kiss me, your hands made to touch me. I wonder fleetingly what drew you to me and then decide it isn’t important after all.
I’m not a big drinker and the vodka is making me slightly fuzzy. I leave the glass half full and take my coat check from my pocket, handing it to you. You understand immediately and I don’t have to wait long by the door before you have retrieved our coats, putting mine around me as you hold the door open for me. I’m starting to like you more all the time. I don’t want small talk and simply tell you that we’re going to my apartment, a few blocks away. There is a fall chill in the air but I can feel the warmth of you as you walk beside me in silence. My breath is already coming faster with anticipation and I hope you don’t notice my hand tremble as I slide the key into the lock.
I start to remove my coat but you have other ideas. The night and the silence have excited us both and you turn me around to face you, pulling my coat roughly down my shoulders, pinning my arms to my side. No. I’m in charge here. This is my game, not yours. I pull away, half smiling and gesture to the sofa. Nice and slow…that’s how this is going to play out. I want this to last, not to be some slam, bam, bang me off the door jamb session. So I take my time lighting some candles, pouring a couple of glasses of wine so I can taste the sweet alcohol on your lips when I decide it is time to kiss you. I turn on the CD player and select the 9 1/2 Weeks soundtrack. Joe Cocker singing “You Can Leave Your Hat On.”
You like to watch me dance? Watch this. With my back to you I start a long, slow strip. I fantasize that I am on a catwalk in front of you and you came to pay to watch me take my clothes off. I take my time coming out of my shirt although I know my sweat-soaked top has left nothing to your imagination. I run my hands through my damp hair, pushing it off my face, my eyes closed as I move inside the music. I never forget I have an audience and I want to play you for all that I’m worth. I want you to really want me. Be hungry for me. I slide out of my jeans and all that I am is ass in thong panties. I bend over at the waist and glance at you through my legs. I can see how much you want me. I see you lick your lips, shift positions on the sofa. Beckon me to come to you. That’s okay now because I can’t take much more myself.
I move over you and admonish you when you try to touch me. You lay your hands back down at your side as I start unbuttoning your shirt. You have a great tits. Amazing arms. You obviously keep yourself in shape. I run my nails lightly down to the waistband of your jeans as you slip your shoes off under the coffee table with each foot. Now I ease your zipper down and allow you to help me slide your jeans off. Calvin Kleins…nice. Strap on…very nice. I nuzzle your neck, your chest, your stomach, then use my teeth to get the elastic of your shorts down around your cock. Beautiful.
Kneeling between your legs I take a quick look up to make sure you are watching me. I need you to watch me. You gasp lightly as I take the head of your cock in my mouth, lightly grazing it against my teeth before I close my lipsticked mouth down over you and back up again. I lift my head and smile slyly as I take a swallow of the sweet red wine. Back down, I swirl the liquid around your stiffness and let some spill down the side so I can lick it up. That’s when I stand up and look down on you and the thick eight inches I want so badly inside me.
You reach up and run your hands across my hips. I let you slide my panties to the floor and part my legs ever so slightly, allowing you to see me in all my glistening glory. I want to tease you so badly and I run my hands across my breasts and down to my pussy. Wetting my fingers I bring them to your mouth and then lean down to kiss you deeply, both of us sucking my own juices off of my fingers. Your hands tangle in my hair and you pull me down on top of you. Again, I’ve got other ideas and laugh as I push you down into the sofa cushion so that you are reclining. Now I turn around and taking my ass in both hands I spread myself wide. I want you to see me.
I lower myself onto your cock and start to ride you ever so slowly. Painfully slowly. I know you can see yourself moving in and out of my cunt. Your cock is wet with me. Your hands are on my hips and you cannot help but move me faster. I can’t help but go with it. Again, I am lost in the moment. Not to music but to the rhythm of our bodies as they slap together, hot, sweaty. I can’t be silent any longer and my cries join your groans as you reach around and play with my clit. God. How do you know exactly how to fuck me? Now it’s time for hard and fast. Harder. Faster. And I know I’m coming in wave after wave of deep contractions as you join me in a mind splintering orgasm.
The night goes on that way and as dawn approaches I doze off as you take your leave of my apartment. We haven’t spoken to each other at all and for an instant I worry that I might never see you again or have you again, but as you lean down for one last kiss you press your phone number into my palm. Leaving the game up to me…again.

The tension in the car is thick as we drive to the club on Saturday night. We know what we want to do but still aren’t sure we can pull it off. I’m wearing a denim mini skirt without panties, at your request. At mine you are packing and ready for anything. I rub my hand against the hard bulge in your jeans and feel the seat beneath me get sticky and wet. Your breathing is hard and you moan a bit but I pull back and look out the window not wanting to sidetrack our plans for later.

We play some pool and I try hard not to flash everyone in the lounge every time I bend over the felt for a long shot. When I have a shot near the wall you come around and run your hand up my skirt and drag two fingers through my glistening cunt. You walk away with them in your mouth, in search of a drink while I try to regain my composure and end up scratching, giving up the game.

You lean against the bar and watch me dance with your friends. Our eyes lock across the room and everyone else just disappears for me. There is me. On stage. You. At the bar. Everyone else has evaporated into a whirling fog of luminescent bracelets, tight jeans, and the occasional bad wig. It’s time. I can’t wait. Come join me.

I watch you set your drink down. I watch you walk across the dance floor. Climb onto the stage with me and my breath quickens with every step you take towards me. I want you so badly but my nerve is flagging. The place is so crowded and no one seems to take notice and when I grind against your leg I know I have to follow through. I need you and I want you and I can’t wait. I can’t wait. I am facing the wall and you are dancing behind me your hips mimicking my hips until I thrust back against you feeling your cock hard against my ass. Your friends are on stage. Everyone is caught up in their own world. Their own dance. Their own partner. I am caught up in you.

I reach around and unzip your fly. You surreptitiously slide your cock out and raise the back of my skirt ever so slightly at the same time. It takes nothing to slip inside me and I steady my hands against you – one holding your hand, one playing in your hair. You keep one hand on my hip and guide us through the dance. The speaker is so close and the bass drums away as we push against each other. Grind into one another’s bodies. I feel as though I’m on some kind of drug. I’ve lost all care as to whether anyone can tell or whether anyone has noticed. It’s just you the lights the music your cock my cunt and oh my god I’m coming and you are right behind me breathing your orgasm into my ear as I lean back and say NOW NOW NOW.

I’m sweating and you’re sweating and I can feel my own juices trickling down my leg and the emptiness as you ease out of me and pull my skirt down around my ass. I turn around and kiss you long and hard as you put yourself back together. It is then, and only then, that I hear the sound of dozens of people clapping. All around us. I cover my utter embarrassment with small curtsy, grab your hand, and make a quick exit to the car, followed by hoots and howls of appreciation for our seemingly private performance.