He took my hand, to lead me towards the escalator. I pause, and he comes back to me.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"I need to do something about my bra- it's too obvious around my waist in this dress."
He laughs, "Yeah, babe. Need help?"
I shake my heads as I loop the strap back over my arm and up to my shoulder. I reach my hand behind and try to do up the band in the back through my dress.
I look up to see him watching me struggle, and laugh. "Ok, some help would be appreciated."
He smiles and closes the space between us, stepping behind me. Reaching around, scoops up two handfuls of my breasts, along with my bra and lifts them up together.
I close my eyes for a moment and drop my head back on his shoulder. I only just came around this man's cock, but it was cut off by the train coming and I'm definitely not satisfied.
His lips brush my neck and he chuckles, "Not too far, baby," then he takes my hand again, guiding me to the escalator. He's behind me on my stair as we ascend, kissing my neck and stroking my waist.
"I need you for cover," he rasps, and I realize he's still hard and I'm acting as boner camoflage. Part of me is deeply satisfied knowing he's as hard up as I am right now.
He guides me out of the subway and past the fancy shops. I can see myself in the windows. And him with his hand on my lower back guiding me. He notices me looking, and asks, "How do we look?"
I blush, feeling like I got caught peeking. "You look hot. I look like a horny slut," I respond.
"Yeah, you do. Sexy as hell, too."
Before long we turn a corner and are going down an alley. I worry for a second this is the whole destination, but then I hear the thumping music.
We come to a set of double industrial doors and he knocks on one in a distinct rythm. It opens.
Inside, the club entry holds a bouncer with impressive arms and a tall table with a woman behind it. My stranger takes something from his pocket and shows the woman. She nods and stamps the back of our left hands. He guides me around the table, down three stairs and through a set of curtains.
The club is dark and moody, with thumping music playing, downing out all conversation. Bodies are writhing, packed tightly together on the dance floor, but he keeps us to the perimeter of the room, away from the writhing mass of bodies on the dancefloor, until we reach a set of stairs.