The club was packed that night, dancers swarmed the small floor, drinks were being spilled as bodies collided and the floor was sticky with alcohol, mixers, juices and who knows what else. The music was loud and thumping, the bass pounding through people close enough to the speakers to feel the vibrations, deep in their chests.
I slipped through the crowds as best as I could, trying to avoid being stepped on, my short frame often causing me problems as people just didn't see me. Having already been in the club for the last few hours there was enough alcohol coursing through my blood stream to make me slightly more carefree than I would usually be.
Reaching the center of the dance floor, I glanced around at the people surrounding me, subconsciously comparing myself to them. I was surrounded by an abundance of tall, blonde haired, model perfect girls, tight skirts, tiny tops, you must know the type. Compared to them I thought no one would notice little old me, short, brunette, brown eyed and far from perfect.
You obviously disagreed with my own analysis though, perhaps you are attracted to shorter women, perhaps you prefer brunettes to blondes. Or perhaps I won you over with my smile, the way my eyes light up when I'm happy, and how I just didn't care, I was just having a good time.
Dancing to the heavy bass music I was almost in my own world, oblivious to everyone around me, I just wanted to dance, wanted to forget the nightmare week I had been having. Fifty two hours at work, and with mum being away I'd had to take care of my younger siblings for a few days, dragging them to work with me as it was the school holidays. And work was a drag, too many customers and not enough staff to take care of them, just like every year. One day my manager will learn.
So there I was, lost in my own forgetting, until you came along. I wasn't sure you actually wanted to be dancing with me at first, but when you showed no signs of moving I guess I had to assume you did. I'm so glad you chose me, the odds are no one else would have been daring enough to do what we did that night. Do you still remember?
There I was in my black skirt and shirt, just above knee length that skirt was before we started, hip hugging and classy I thought, you told me it was sexy, that you loved the way it showed off my body. I must admit, that shirt wasn't a lot better really was it? I didn't realize just how low cut it was until you trailed your fingers along it.
You didn't look too bad yourself I must say, almost too casual for the club dress code, but you carried it off well, it was a look that suited you. Your standard denim jeans, cut just right to show off that perfect ass, tight and wonderful. And a slightly off-white T-shirt, like you never quite washed it properly. That too looked like it was cut just for you, enhancing the natural beauty of your stomach and abs. You looked spectacular under the flashing lights (and just as brilliant away from them.) Your dark hair, long enough for me to run my fingers through, but short enough to definitely be masculine, and your wide eyes. I couldn't tell what color they were under those lights. It was only when we left that I saw they were a dark blue.
They were using the smoke machine that night, so the air was thick with mist and the smell of heated bodies. Too many people packed into one small space, all forgetting, all hunting for someone to spend the night with. I wasn't really expecting to go home with anyone that night, just goes to show that sometimes you need to stop looking before you can find what you want.
But back to us, you were pressed tight against me, mirroring my moves, keeping yourself in line with me. I could feel you through my skirt, it didn't really offer me all that much resistance. Our bodies moving together in one fluid motion, you never said a word, but then again I guess neither did I.
Our bodies seemed to fit so well together that night, do you remember? My ass pressing back into you, you felt so good right there against me, so natural. There were people knocking us around as they fought for a space on the dance floor, but we just didn't seem to care. In fact, it just put us closer together. When I spun around to face, you pressing the front of our bodies together, I can only imagine what you saw in my eyes. You were hard against me, even through your jeans I could feel you, hitting just the right spots.
I wanted you then, but it took me a few more songs to pluck up the courage to ask, instead we just played with each other. Your hands came down around my waist for a while, slipping up under my shirt, your thumbs coming to rest just under my breasts, stroking the material of my bra. Slowly moving upwards, ever so discreet, you tried not to draw attention to us.
I kept grinding against you, feeling myself growing wetter by the minute, I didn't even know who you were, but that didn't matter in the slightest. I gasped slightly as your hands slid around my back, finding the clasp of my bra, undoing it easily. You smiled as you realized it was strapless and quickly drew it away from my body. I saw you tuck it into your pocket, I couldn't tell if anyone saw what you did, and at the time I just didn't care.
You reached up under my shirt against, stroking and squeezing my freed breasts, finger tips finding my nipples, circling them gently, occasionally pinching lightly, making me moan softly, and press harder against you. My hand coming down between us, we were so close together I doubt anyone would have noticed, cupping your hardness through your jeans. You felt so good just like that, and I wanted more, I wanted to see you, taste you, have you inside me.
"Fuck me?" I asked, standing up on tiptoes to whisper in your ear.
At first I didn't think you had heard me, you just carried on as if nothing had happened, still playing with my breasts, my nipples hard as you flattened your palms against them. You pulled away and I thought I'd scared you off. That I had come onto strong that you didn't want me like I wanted you. But you only reached for my hand, still never saying a word, and you dragged me away from the crowded dance floor.
Toward the back of the club we went, where there were less people, the music was quieter, and where we were less likely to get caught. There is always going to be a risk, isn't there? If you chose to fuck in public places, but it only added to the desire, the adrenaline running through me as you pressed me up against the back wall. Grinding your crotch against mine, looking down at me slightly, trapping me against that wall with your taller body. I could have melted right there before you.
Your hand easily reached under my skirt, lifting it up, bunching it around my waist, giving you completely unhindered access to my soaking pussy. Not wanting to ruin the line of my skirt I'd left off my panties, not a ususal habit of mine, but it certainly made you smile as your fingers brushed against me, coming away slick with my juices.
Your very first touch had me pressing forward against your fingers, I'd never wanted anyone like I wanted you right then. Was it the alcohol? Or the risk? Knowing that any one of the hundreds of people in the club that night could watch us, that we could get caught by the security team and thrown out.
As your fingers slipped inside me it was all I could do to stay standing, you just smiled, you still hadn't said a word to me. I remember gasping as you pressed two fingers deep inside me, I was already so well lubricated for you, your thumb found my clit, gently teasing it while your free hand moved up under my shirt again. Pinching and stroking, always surprising me, alternating between breasts, I couldn't tell what you were going to do next.
I must have said something or done something to tell you how close I was, your skilled fingers, and my own arousal quickly sped me toward orgasm, but you didn't stop. Even as I wrapped my arms around your shoulders, my nails digging into your back as you held me right on the edge of orgasm. I could feel my body shaking, but it wasn't quite enough and you laughed.
