He sat there. At peace. All was right with his world. Honeys flanked him, in their scanty clothes; mini-skirts, breast-hugging tanks, tanned flesh that rippled with excitement. It was Daniel, after all, the King of Swing. They all knew the rules; no deep attachments, no drama, no jealousy; just pure unadulterated pleasure to be had by all. At the first sign of clinginess, they were gone, so they were careful not to show anything but lust.
But one watched him from afar, with a hunger that went beyond the norm. She eyed his form with speculative glee. The girls she ignored; they were nothing but college slut-wannabes. They talked a good game, and maybe even a few could go the distance, but most were just girls playing dress-up. Plastic, in more ways than one. It was almost time to make her move. She downed the rest of her Rum & Coke, allowing it's toxins to heat her blood and relax the last of her strained muscles.
This had been a long time in coming; no more evasions, no more excuses, no more "life happens". It was time.
She slowly stood up to her full height; all of 5'2". What she lacked for in height, she more than made up for in curves. Her breasts were lovingly encased in a magenta cami, topping a flirty skirt that barely reached her knees. There was a small slit on the left side, hinting at full luscious thighs. She had decided on letting her hair fall where it might, giving her that just-crawled-out-of-bed look. Smoke-colored lids, black mascara and bright red lipstick completed the look.
With a final tug on her cami she wended her way through the dense population of bodies occupying the dance floor. "Come here, babies" and "Man, I want a piece of that" followed her. She grinned, loving the appreciation, but not deterred from her target. Perhaps another night. At last she stood in front of him, and his entourage of Barbie dolls. She leaned forward, planting her hands on the table, and moved her face to an almost nose-to-nose position. She paused a moment, letting his shocked gaze take in her full breasts that threatened to spill out at any minute. She waited until his fascinated gaze locked on the swaying globes before speaking.
"Hey, sugar, what say you send the cheerleader squad home; I'm sure it's past their curfew." She gave a dismissive look at the gaggle of girls, and then leaned closer in. "I have some champagne on ice and a big comfy bed waiting for us."
Almost in a trance he watched her tongue trail across full lips, disappearing into what he suspected was a very hot mouth. He was a sucker for a set of full lips, not to mention lush breasts. He looked at the group of girls surrounding him, four hotties in all; a guaranteed good time, having sampled their wares before; but somehow he'd lost his enthusiasm for the task. He cringed inwardly at the word task. That settled it then; he wanted to feel heat, urgency, need. Not this robotic desire.
After a few minutes of "oh, Danny baby, don't make us go", he finally managed to shake off the cheerleaders. He grinned as his mind accepted the vision his new friend had implanted in his head. While he was busily ruminating on this profound thought Liz took advantage of his preoccupation and slid into the booth next to him. It wasn't until she'd planted her hand fully onto the crotch of his jeans that Daniel realized they were alone together.
He turned his head and looked at her soft, beautiful face. A sense of déjà vu overcame him. "Have we met before?" he queried. With a laugh Liz shook her head no.
"If we'd ever met before, you'd be hard-pressed to forget. I'm Liz."
Her confidence, and the hand that rubbed him insistently through his jeans, combined to get his motor going…in a big way. Just as his hips lifted helplessly into her ministrations, she grabbed one of his hands and placed it under her skirt, over her bare mound. Fuck. The heat from her pussy singed his palm; he could fell tale-tell juices creeping along her skin.
