I was wearing the shortest skirt I could possibly find in my closet, and I was glad. It hit right below where my thong ended and when I danced I was sure that everyone could see more than they usually could. Perhaps that's why there was a throng of men around me, grinding on me. I was getting extremely sweaty and damp, but the throbbing music that thudded around me wouldn't let me stop dancing.
Eventually, I was too exhausted to keep grinding against them. They were all hard, watching me with huge, eager eyes that shone in the dark. I stepped back and leaned against the wall, my palms pressed against it. A young man stepped forward and smiled at me. I discovered that he had an incredibly soft mouth as he leaned forward and kissed me, just once, on the lips. He closed his eyes, and then suddenly his mouth was everywhere--littering soft kisses across my cheekbones and down my neck. I arched my back to let him land these kisses across my breasts, down my thighs, and finally one sweet kiss on my clit. For some reason, the innocence of these soft pecks made me so aroused that it was all I could do not to rip off my clothes on the dance floor.
I wondered if anyone had noticed this and discovered that it wasn't possible--there were a wall of dancing people around us, all the same men that had been grinding against me before. They were the only ones that knew what was happening, and every single one was hard, their hardness pressing eagerly against their tight jeans. I smiled to myself as I realized that this was a line of people waiting for me--including the one who had just kissed me, seven in all. Seven sins.
Number One stepped back in line and began to dance, shaking a little as he did so. I lowered my eyes as Number Two stepped forward, a smile stretched out across his features. Leaning back and closing my eyes, I almost wouldn't have noticed the hands if they weren't so cold and eager on my skin. Someone was kneeling below me, their fingers traveling up my thighs. A shudder rippled through me as their thumbs looped underneath my underwear and carefully tore it off. He stuffed the pieces in my skirt pocket and suddenly his mouth was against my clit. His lips moved around it, and the waves of pleasure whipped through me, thick and heated. His tongue poked out and my hands were in his hair, pushing him closer, closer. Finally it was too much and I screamed out loud--luckily, my voice was lost in the music. I felt myself come all over his mouth, and he wiped it off shakily with the back of his hand.
Meanwhile, the music pounded in my ears, and everyone else danced, oblivious. Number Three came toward me with a hard on so obvious that I caught my breath and dug my fingernails into the wall behind me, leaving ten crescent-shaped marks in the paint that would later be painted over. He began to lick me all over, and I purred deeply against him. The fact that his tongue was everywhere but my mouth was almost driving me insane, and I gripped his back and pulled him closer. His tongue glided across my jaw, and I shivered. Finally he dropped down and his tongue travelled up my legs, up my thighs, and stopped just at my clit. I was shaking, trembling as he gave it one coarse lick, but that was enough. I screamed again, and he pinned me against the wall as I thrashed against his mouth. I may have been exhausted somewhere, in a different universe, but in this universe I was only eager for more.