It's the same thing that's been happening for weeks now. You're always in the same spot, against the back wall, half hidden in the shadows, your eyes lazily searching the crowd. We rarely acknowledge each other's presence when I first arrive, other than the electricity that sparks when we make eye contact and hold it for a second longer than normal. I can feel you watch me while I dance with my girls. Knowing that you are watching me sends a shiver up my spine and I am already wet.
And because I know you are watching me, I put on a show. Tonight's outfit is a micro mini black skirt that barely reaches the tops of my thighs, a tight V-neck black top with enough cleavage to hold a drink and black knee high boots. I have no idea if really look sexy when I dance, but it seems to get, and hold, your attention. You never approach until the timing is perfect. My girls are on round three and their watchful eyes are not so watchful anymore. The lights have dimmed until it's difficult to see anything that's not directly in front of you. And it's always a song that turns me on ... which you can somehow tell.
I don't even remember what song it was. I am sensuously (I hope!) swaying my hips back and forth as my girls and I get into the song. Suddenly I feel a strong arm around my waist and you're nuzzling my neck. I know it's you; no other guy would dare press his body so tightly against mine when he's that excited. My eyes lock with one of my girls, letting her know it's OK. I know they won't leave without me and I know you won't hurt me; although the slim chance that you might adds to the excitement.