He walked into the room when I was least expecting anything interesting to happen. He didn't strut, he didn't look down his nose at others, he naturally gave off the impression that he was sexy, and he knew it. He wasn't there to impress anyone that thinks they need to be impressed -- but they would be anyway if watching him. Unexpectedly, my heart began to race and I still can't quite describe my reaction to him. My thighs and my tongue reacted for me as I watched him walk casually through the crowd, thighs clenching but continuing my own dance, a tongue that licked suddenly-dry lips as I didn't know I was now breathing hard enough to dry them. He walked through bodies that were dancing and friends that were only focused on their groups. Men that were watching short skirts and women that were giggling with friends, all hoping for a little bit of attention from someone else that might bring a level of joy into their evening.
He looked over and saw me. We know each other well enough, but my reaction to him still unsteadies me with such a short time since we met. As he walked over, I started to dance a little slower and used my fingertips to raise the hem of my dress up my thighs and teasingly letting it fall again. Over and over, I played this saucy little game during his approach. Bringing my dress up without exposing my panties and letting it fall. He recognized my tease without saying anything, but the burning gaze he gave me told me he was aroused enough to feel possessive of me, an animal stalking its prey.
The second our bodies came into arms' reach, he both gripped the back of my neck and kissed me, and he gripped my hand to push my skirt down with him in a silent notice to me. Both, the covering of my thighs and the kiss told me that in that moment he was claiming me. Reclaiming me from any eyes that had been watching my teasing sway to the beats in the music and baring skin I could have keep from others.
He took my hand without a word. The grip, the interlacing of our fingers putting me at ease but part of me wonders if he didn't just want to grab my wrist, in that carnal possessive way a man yearns to when he has something he's not letting go of.
Once he led me to a dark corner in a hallway and out of sight of others, yet still public enough to send a hedonistic thrill up my spine, he kissed my lips, turned me around and pushed his hand up the back of my dress.
With only his index finger, he hooked it in the back of my panties and pulled them down over my ass cheeks and left them around my thighs. He then pushed both my hands up over my head, pinned them with his large hand in one little bouquet of wrists and fingers, holding them... right fucking there, roughly. His other hand made quick work of his belt.. his button... his zipper... spanking my dress-covered ass before pushing this pants and shorts down to his widely-set thighs. His hand gripped his rock-hard cock and snaked it up the back of my dress, raising my dress with his wrist as he aimed his greed at my soft, throbbing petals. As he rubbed his thick crown through my petals, my own arousal coated him and lubed his man meat heavily.
I was almost panting too loudly to hear him say, "Mine" next to my ear before he pushed his massive dick into my pulsating channel. My toes curled in my high heels out of his sight, I gasped and he just kept taking more space in my tight pussy. Thrust after thrust, each one pushing further and accessing more of my arousal fluids. Each thrust coating more of his cock as the size of him made my mind spin and my pussy drool for him. Each thrust reclaiming me from the eyes that only got to watch me dance.. but reclaiming me from the world of horny men, nonetheless.