The music pounded out from the speakers as I walked in to the club. My head already soft and venerable from the drinks I had already consumed in the pub before, not used to drinking often, the two drinks had relaxed me and most shockingly for me, made me feel horny and needy. I was just thinking that it was a pity there was nobody to help me with that particular need.
The club was loud, and smoky from the smoke machine pumping out each side of the large speaker stacks. Joe, my friend Rachael's boyfriend placed his hand on the small of my back to get my attention 'Drink' he asked, silently over the music. I nodded, he knew what I drank, there was no need to specify what I wanted.
I looked around at the clientele of the place, some painfully skinny girls in too few clothes, bigger girls, the ones with breasts, with tightly laced Basques, a lot of black and red and sage green, stripes and fishnet. The boys mainly tall and skinny in swaths of black, big boots making them taller than they were, probably why there didn't seem to be any short boys in here. Boys with long hair, boys with wild spikes, boys with 'Emo' hair all over their face.
The dancing took me, I dance longer and harder than any of my friends, they take it in turns to be with me on the dance floor as I don't feel the tiredness hit me while the music flows through me.
The great thing about clubs like this were you tend to jump about, dancing madly and finding yourself dancing with complete strangers, not noticing who your dancing with in the haze of hot sweaty bodies, alcohol and the dry ice.
I look around to find out where Rachael, Joe and the rest are, Rachel and Joe are pinned against a nearby pillar making out, I find most of the others in couples and groups around the room. I step back and feel a pair of hands steady me as I trip backwards not expecting anybody to be there. I turn, a tall, very thin boy, a cool, not quite smile on a handsome, but oh, too young face.
"Thanks," I say and step forward in to the crowded dance floor again.
I can't help it though; I have to look at him. He doesn't seem out of place in the room, but his beauty shines through. He's about 20, dark eyes, eyeliner helping, a tiny, old Nirvana t shirt, tight black jeans on thin, firm legs, legs like he could run a mile but not a marathon, and the usual accessories, studded belt, sweat band, leather thong necklace, black nail varnish, lip stud, a small stretch in his ear lobe. I take him in as I dance, subconsciously my moves turning more and more sensual.
He keeps looking, because I fell in to him? I don't know. I am older than him but not bad looking, not as thin as these tiny girls around me no, more voluptuous and curvaceous, large breasts, full and round in their balconette bra, clearly on view as I move from my low cut top, cutting in to a tiny waist and then larger hips. A filmstar figure ex boyfriends have called it.
I move towards him, slowly, dancing with friends and strangers on the way, pressing myself up against them, but getting turned on as I watch him and feel his eyes on me.
He notices me eventually, notices that I am moving back over towards him, that my eyes can't leave him, and he gives another little half smile, the one side of his mouth turning up, and his eyes lock on mine, he watches me, barely moving except to sip at the bottle of beer in his hand, and a slight nod of his head in time to the music.
Finally I am up against him, still dancing to the deep rock beat. He nods, a half hello, a half agreement that it's ok. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him, I can feel his hip bones protrude in his jeans and suddenly I can picture them, I can almost feel myself kissing the soft white skin all around them, his flat belly, his now twitching cock, these jeans give everything away. I gasp at the sudden thought and he takes the opportunity to reach out and grasp my head pulling my face towards his.
