You're waiting by the door, ready to leave, impatient that I'm running behind schedule, and I finally meet you there. I'm wearing a tiny black dress, and you wonder how it is I even managed to get it on. It's leaving very little to the imagination.
On the car ride over to the party, you keep glancing over at me. I'm not paying attention, changing the radio station, checking my phone, looking over my hair one last time in the mirror. I catch you looking once and give you a huge, silly wink. You just laugh and go back to driving.
At the party, we say hello to everyone, then go to the bar set up for drinks. Your hands are on my waist as we chat with people, and then I spot a friend across the room, and leave your side. You lose track of me for a little while, busy talking with your own friends. Eventually you head back to the bar for another drink, and you finally spot me, dancing with some girlfriends. You laugh to yourself and think that I probably had one martini too many. The girls and I are dancing, a little silly, a little raunchy, and I see you watching and wave, laughing.
When the song is over, I come over to the bar, taking a sip of your drink. You lean in to tell me how good I look. I laugh and get very close, pressing up against you, and whisper in your ear that I'm not wearing anything under my dress. My breath is on your ear, my lips brushing on you a little, and your hand on my leg slips up just a bit and under my dress. You slide a finger between my legs, and when you feel my bare slit, you know that I'm telling the truth.
Someone calls your name, and you turn to see who it is. When you turn back, I'm gone, and you scan the crowd to find me. I'm dancing again, this time with a guy, someone you met before but you can't remember his name. It doesn't matter anyway. His arms are around me, hands on my lower back. I don't make a move to remove them, but my eyes are completely focused on you, and I give you an evil little smile. The guy I'm dancing with doesn't notice at all, his eyes are on my chest, and you know he's probably getting a nice view down the top.
We're really grinding now, one hand laying on his arm, but our eyes are locked together. Still looking at you, I lean up and whisper something in his ear. You remember how that felt at the bar, and then you wonder what I said, did I tell him our secret? I turn around, still focused on you, and press my bottom back against him while his hands move down my hips, on my thighs, on the hem of my dress. I reach an arm up, around his neck, smiling at you. You are watching his hands, moving on my thighs. All he has to do is move one inch, just one inch, and he'll know our secret for sure.
Finally you give me a look, and there is no way to mistake your meaning. I say something to him again, a quick kiss on his cheek, and then I'm by your side. You take me by the waist and guide me through the party, not talking, then up the stairs. The line for the bathroom will take too long, so you try a door or two until we find a spare bedroom. Pushing me inside, you turn and lock the door.
You look at me, and I'm smiling. I start to laugh, and you grab me, pushing me up against the door. I grab your shoulders as you push against me. I'm completely pinned, and I squirm a little, but can't move. Your hands are on my legs, pushing up my dress until the hem is around my waist, then they slide up, fingers brushing me, making me suck in my breath.