The party was in full swing by the time I arrived. Everyone was in a good mood, fueled by the free-flowing booze and the buzzing social atmosphere. I walked in, my dress swishing against my thighs with each step, my heels clicking a staccato against the concrete. Across the crowd, our eyes meet in silent acknowledgement. I'm handed a drink, a colorful concoction of festive proportions. Without thinking, I swallow the drink in two mouthfuls, feeling it buzz right through me. No time for second thoughts, another soon follows.
I make the rounds to be polite, but its you I focus on. Standing a few feet away from you, I'm watching you from the corner of my eye, drinking and laughing with everyone. I'm so jealous right now that I'm knocking back drinks like they're tap water. I want so badly to run my hands over you, to rub my body against yours, to lick your body from top to bottom. I want so badly for you to want the same.
It's too much, I have to get away. I excuse myself from the group I'm talking to and head into the house. The stairs feel like they are moving. I've had too much to drink already and I know it. I make my way to the bathroom and lock myself inside. I need time to clear my head, time to get my thoughts together. What I really want is for you to be here with me, kissing my neck, nibbling, biting, gripping my body tight against your own. My nipples are hard at just the thought of your mouth on me, pressing against the satin bodice of my dress, adding to the sensation of my imagination running away with me.
A few deep breaths later, I manage to calm myself , to get my body under some semblance of control. At least I think I have. I hope I have. A few touch-ups and I'm ready to head back to the party. I unlock the door to head back to the party, but I run into a solid chest. Suddenly, I'm being pushed back into the bathroom and the lock is clicked into place. I don't even have time to breathe before you arms are wound around me and your lips are pressed against mine. My hands wind their way around your neck, pulling you closer, pressing our bodies tightly together.
It's frenzied, and so incredibly fucking hot. We can barely breathe, but we don't care. We know exactly what we both want, and we both know that we are going to get it. My hands have bunched themselves in your collar, locking you in place. Your hands are running down my back, one hand comes to a stop, holding my neck tightly, locking me in place. My breasts are itching to be touched, my body begging for a release that only you can give me. Our tongues are caressing over one another, tasting and testing. Our hands are grappling with our clothing, trying to get to the pleasures of the flesh without letting go of each other.
You get frustrated at the lack of progress, and finally tug my dress straps down my arms, baring my breasts to your hungry hands and mouth. I'm careful not to rip your shirt, but the patience it takes to undo the buttons is pure torture. I get your shirt off, and my hands are on you, your skin hot under my strokes. As your mouth is busy nibbling on my breasts, I lower a hand to your jeans, swiftly unzipping you, spilling your rock hard flesh into my hungry hands. I wrap your cock in my fist, and start to stroke. Up and down, over and over, stroking over your swollen, pulsing flesh.