Author's note: This is a rare piece of erotica from me from the male perspective. The one I'm actually qualified to write from. It's semi-autobiographical, but the scene itself derives from a random comment born in the depths of my warped little mind, not an actual event, more's the pity.
#
It had been a while since I felt like dancing, but Stefan was in the right mood in his booth and a string of Sisters, Nephilim, Joy Division and New Order, Covenant and the odd Screaming Tribesmen meant I found my spot on the floor and kept it.
I had gone scruffy that night, staring at myself in the mirror and thinking I couldn't be bothered either shaving or running the trimmers over what was, to be perfectly honest, sharply outlined designer stubble.
So I hadn't brushed my hair before tying it back, and instead of my normal elaborate clothes and coat I had put one of my more piratical lace shirts over my laced pants, put on boots and left it at that.
I was through my third beer without noticing the alcohol, and sweating hard enough to pull the laced front of my shirt all the way open, when I noticed her noticing me.
The fact I noticed at all says something about how good I was feeling, but not even I can be self-conscious all the time and after I did a sly audit of the people around me and moved to see if she was tracking me, I had to admit it was probably me she was casting those calculating, up-and-down sideways glances at.
I had noticed her earlier, but then I had been admiring clothes and trying to spot friends, and she had merely passed by my radar as a tight body, charged with energy, wearing skin-tight patchwork black and grey jeans and a ripped band shirt over a long-sleeved fishnet top, a plain black bra seen at one edge of the T-shirt.
She was sexy, but not stylish compared to the corsets and leather I had been letting my gaze linger on.
Moving, however, she was a different matter, and moving in my direction made her a whole lot more noteworthy.
The next song picked up the rhythm a bit and she started dancing closer. We were half turned towards each other when I looked over at the bar to see what the wait was like, turned back and she was gone.
Well, shit. Score one for crushing disappointment.
I finished the rest of that song, then headed for another beer. I had to wait to get to the front, then suddenly there was a crowded feeling next to me.
"Buy me a beer?" She asked, leaning on the stainless steel and pressed against my arm by the crush of the crowd.
The bar-boy arrived before I could respond, so I just let actions speak for me.
I didn't give it to her until she told me her name was Ravyn. What the hell, I could go with that.
She lead me outside, to the smoker's balcony, taking a swig as she slipped through the crowd like an eel in painted-on denim.
We went right to the end before we found a free spot, and she leaned her back into the wrought-iron corner.
"You dance well, Ade," she said, giving me a frank, intense look as she took another swig of beer.
"It's a fluke, I haven't had enough practice to dance well. You're better at it than I am."
"You don't usually come here?"
"I don't usually dance when I come here."
She clicked her fingers. "I recognise you now! You're usually glammed up."
"I'll accept that as an uninformed description of my usual devastating style."
She laughed easily. "You need a shave."
"Which is why I'm not glammed up."
"You didn't have time to shave?"
"I couldn't be bothered shaving. I've had a very relaxed day."
She gave me a calculating look over the top of her beer. "Tell you what. You let me shave you, and I'll have wild sex with you."
I had another drink, to give my head time to settle around that one. "If you don't cut my hair," I said. "The hair stays. Facial hair is up for grabs."
"Done," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "Facial hair only. But you have to let me do it my way, as I wish."
I raised my eyebrows. "Okay. My safe-word is Bailey."
She grinned, a little fiercely. "Oh good, you know the rules. Fancy leaving now? I'm a little horny. I didn't drive, so I guess we're getting a taxi back to my place?"
She lived on the opposite side of town to me, so I had no idea where we were going until we got there.
The house was old, wooden, built in the fifties to a style that didn't quite fit because they were trying to be "modern," not intelligent. She had it to herself, and had stamped a casual, cheerfully messy and goth/punk persona on it.
"It's a bare-foot house," she said when she let me in without fumbling with the key at all. "And visiting boys have to go shirtless at all times."
I could hear the smirk in her voice even from behind her head.
I unzipped my boots and peeled them off, followed by my socks, faster than she could manage her laces, which gave me time to stand in front of her and peel off my sweat-soaked shirt.
Hitting 30 had not come with fat, and a figure that had always been wiry had even managed to put on some muscle lately, so I didn't look like a poorly padded skeleton.
"Hmm, I like a good hard man," she purred as she finished untying her boots by touch and kept her eyes on about the level of my sternum. "And piercings! You do know how to give a girl jewellery to play with."
"Turn about is fair play, Ravyn" I said as she finally stood up, peeling her socks off.
She just grinned at me and hauled her band shirt and her fishnet shirt over her head together, leaving her in the black bra I had glimpsed earlier, covering small but undeniably tight breasts on a torso even leaner than mine.
"Right," she said, her grin not fading, "bathroom. Now. Come on, you."
She grabbed my hand and lead me, her grip strong and sure, her hand warm and inviting.
The bathroom looked even older than the rest of the house, cycles of heat and humidity ruining the cheap wallpaper, vinyl floor and what was probably undisturbed asbestos sheeting.
But the light was strong and the room was clean, with the faded look of surfaces that have been bleached repeatedly because it's the only thing that'll work.
"Right," she said, grinning even wider, standing in the doorway. "Strip!"
"Did we just talk about my face? Because I've done the rest."
"Ooh, lucky me! I'm only doing your face, but you agreed to let me do as I wanted to, and I want you naked. Strip."
By this point, my laced pants were too tight to be comfortable anyway. I stripped, facing her, not making a show of it but just staring her straight in the eye as she looked at my waist as I undid my belt and pants and pushed them and my undies off my hips and peeled them down my legs.
"Hmm, you're nicely formed all over, Ade," she said, licking her lips as I stopped bouncing. "Where the hell did you get those thighs?"
"Lots of cycling," I replied, turning sideways to give her a good view of my legs and also, not unintentionally, my full length. "Years ago, but they never went away."
"Lucky me, again. And you've shaved your legs and your balls, but not your face."
"Yes, but they were two days ago."
"Fair enough."
There was a chair in the corner, which she picked up easily and sat down close to the sink.
I couldn't help noticing the leather straps attached to the front legs and the back of the chair.
"Sit," she said, pointing, "you're tall, but I think you'll fit."
I sat, not taking my eyes off her, putting my ankles in front of the leather cuffs in front, and folding my arms behind the chair to where the other cuffs were.
Smirking, she bent down, tightening the cuffs securely around my ankles while I got a good look at the tops of her tight breasts. She put her hands on my ankles to push herself upright and leaned forwards to kiss me - the first time she had - fiercely, with lots of tongue, and teeth scraping over my lips.
I kept my arms were they were.
She walked slowly around me, trailing one hand over my chest, over my pierced nipple, flicking the ring and making me grit my teeth to not give her the satisfaction of making any noise, until she knelt down behind me to cuff my hands. Those cuffs were adjustable vertically, and she pulled my arms down snugly. That pulled my shoulders down, which meant I had to shift my hips forwards in the chair, although I had been tall enough to sit right back even with my knees over the corners and my feet flat on the floor.
Then I heard her giggle, and she rushed out without an explanation. I was almost feeling worried before she came back in winding a thin rope around her hands.
She stepped straight behind me, pulled my hair tie off and quickly and surely tied the rope through my hair, attaching the other end to the chair and pulling until my head couldn't bend forwards before tying it off.
"Right," she said with a purr in her voice as she stepped back in front of me, "naked, hard, and disciplined. Just how I like my men."
She opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled out a mug, a shaving brush, and a wicked, gleaming, cut-throat razor.
That definitely raised my eyebrows.
"Don't worry," she said, stropping it on a leather strap, "I've done this a lot."
Her eyes dropped. "Aw, you're not going to go limp on me, are you? Here, let me help."
I wasn't, but I wasn't complaining either as she put the razor on the edge of the sink and dropped to her knees between mine.
She engulfed me in one smooth motion, not messing about with kissing or playing or warming up, just swallowing me. I purred as her throat closed around me and her teeth lightly closed around my base as she grabbed my balls, one in each hand, and started tickling them gently.
She only worked me long enough to make me rock-hard, then slipped off and stood up, deftly unhooked her bra and dropped it, then peeled off her jeans, revealing no panties. There was a gleaming equilateral triangle of piercings now visible, and I wasn't sure which one to focus one.
"Have you ever hooked nipple rings together with someone?"
"Haven't met anyone as qualified as you," I managed to get out before she flicked my own rings with her fingers and made me inhale sharply. I tried not to respond, but both nipples at once was a bit much.
