When I found myself talking to you in the bar, you held eye contact when you spoke to me and that made me fell like there wasn't anyone else there. Every time you looked at me or your hand brushed against me, I felt a spark, then a current. The tension began building up within me. I kept looking at you when you were talking to others and the sound of your voice became intoxicating. It was like it was connected directly to me and every time I heard you speak I had to look at you.
I leaned in to catch what you were saying and the feel of your breath in my hair stirred something deep inside me. I began to imagine you kissing me, touching me, inside me. I looked at you I whispered in your ear, explaining that I was in need of company, wondering if you had to go home any time soon. You looked so shocked that for a moment I thought that my instincts were wrong, that I had misread you, but you were just surprised at my intention, so different from my outward demeanour. After that, your smiling eyes came back to mine more and more often, our conversations began to exclude others, becoming more intimate.
And then suddenly there were only a few of us left, and we were dragged along to a restaurant for food. As you took my bag, your hand found my breast and squeezed -- all so subtle and discreet. We dawdled behind everyone, you walked a pace behind me, your hand at my back, pressing between my cheeks. And in the restaurant, your hand pressed further, along my stockinged thigh, up my skirt, probing me. I tried very hard not to react, enjoying the secrecy of it all. As I leaned over for more wine your fingers pressed between my legs, and I almost yelped. When we passed in the corridor, you pressed me to the wall and kissed me, your tongue deep in my mouth as I moved against you. I felt your cock hard against me and I imagined you lifting me onto it and fucking me hard and fast against the wall and I came so close to orgasm I could hardly breathe. I enjoyed your surprise at me then.