We ate mussels for dinner and drank wine. Lots of wine, most of which was red. We’re laughing and eating and drinking. I am attracted to you and every time I drink I get chills down my spine. Each sip seems to accentuate that feeling. But we haven’t touched, we agreed to keep it platonic.
I wore a red bodysuit with black high waisted shorts. I wanted to accentuate my waist, but not be too sexy. But of course I had to wear black heels.
After dinner we went to the club, you picked it out. It was crowded and loud. Very loud. So loud that you had to break the touch barrier. You took my hand and lead me into the centre of the club. I don’t recognize the song but it doesn't matter, once I feel your hands on my hip bones I can't stay still. I sway and rock them back and forth. I turn around so I can occasionally bump my ass into you. I graze my hands over yours as I raise them above my head, running my fingers into your hair and back down tracing my shoulders and breast with them. I feel you closer to me. I'm turning you on, god that turns me on. I start to care less about the boundaries and I am hopeful you do too.
My hair is down a little longer than my shoulders and all my curls have fallen out, it’s a lose relaxed look like I don’t care too much. I feel you moving, closer to me, you brush my hair behind my ear and trace it down my spine with your finger, your hand following the line to my shorts, and around to my hips. I feel your lips on my ear lobe. I feel your lips moving and your beard against my ear, but I don’t hear you. Without hesitation I nod yes. Are you asking to get a drink? Yes. To get fresh air? Yes. Asking to feel me up? Yes. Take me in the bathroom? Yes.
You turn and we interlock fingers as you lead me to the bar… Maybe it's just a drink. It's a little quieter over here and hardly crowded at all. I can hear you order shots, and I can see your face is happy. Your smile bares teeth, and genuine joy.
The shots come, I have no idea what they are but we take them. Cheers.
"So, what now?" You say to me leaning back on a barstool, feet flat on the ground. Smirking, like you already know what is next.
I rock my hips in a figure eight and roll my wrists up over one another like a belly dancer might, "You wanna dance a little more?" You reach out and place your hands on my hips, looping your thumbs in my belt loops. I continue to rock my hips, now with a slight bite of my bottom lip. You take my hand and twirl me around and nod. Clearly objectify me, but I like it. I know you're picturing my tits, and analyzing my ass. I may have imagined it, or you may have just moaned with pleasure. You stand, walk around me still holding my hand and lead me toward the dance floor. It's crowded again, and we have to touch. You pull me closer, holding my hips tightly, you press me into your lap. God you want me.
I can feel your breathing get laboured. You lean down to my ear like you have something to say but you tickle it with kisses and plant one on my neck. When your lips leave my skin electricity shoots from that spot, down my spine. Everything tingles. I look up at you, our eyes lock and this time I lead you. Fingers interlocked, I walk you to the back wall, turn around and you kiss me. I run my fingers into your hair and shift my weight forward. Your hands slide down my back, over my hips and underneath my glutes. You grip as I jump, and you've lifted me onto your waist. You lean me into the wall, the combination of the wall and your weight have me so turned on. You kiss me again deeply, I stop you. Turning my face so I can kiss your neck - "I need to get you out of here," I said confidently, "Now!"