Everything is moving in slow motion. The smoke is in the air, curling around right outside of my grasp. There's the illusion of people everywhere. People are dancing, people singing, people rubbing their bodies up against one other. Their eyes closed. Hands reaching back to stroke the thighs of the stranger behind them. With circular hips, grinding beats, my hair is caught between her breasts and my back, dangerously pulling my head back, exposing my neck until all I can do is lay my head against her chin. My only option is to surrender to the moment, to expose myself to her right then, in the darkness, with the smoke circling dangerously around my face. I keep moving, knowing that if I relax just for a second, I will be vulnerable, there in her arms.
The music stops.
Laughing, I turn around and see her for the first time. She appears to be behind a smoke screen, her hair, her lips, and her face foggy, hidden amongst the haze. Her eyes are the only part of her that pierce through the fog and they never left my own, a deep green, shining in the darkened room, beckoning me to lay my head against her shoulder again, to trust her, but only in the moment. She stands there looking at me, her palms pressed against the sides of her thighs, and even though I know that I surrendered to her in the moment before, I know without a doubt that this moment is mine to do with what I want. I look at her and see how beautiful she is and I know that now, now I am in charge.
Never saying a word, I take her hand in my own, and I begin to walk to the back of the bar, where the couch and fireplace are. There, I see my best friend sitting on the couch with some guy he picked up. I catch his eye, and he leaves without a question. He knows too.
She stands next to the couch, the fireplace crackling a few feet from us; the only light in this corner of the room, in this the area of the outcasts. I can tell she is nervous by the flush in her face, the slight shake of her hands.
My eyes narrow and I look at her and smile for the first time. Not a toothy smile, but the smile of someone who knows, who accepts that there is no other option but to touch this most beautiful woman. I watch the muscles in her shoulders begin to relax under my slow, steady gaze.
Without a word, I take my hand to the back of her neck and I gently push her back to the wall, and I press my body up against hers, feeling her breasts press against my own, her breath rise and fall, her stomach quiver, and I kiss her. I kiss her with all the passion of the dance. I taste her, and with my tongue I gently trace the inside of her mouth. I can tell by how she returns my kiss that she isn't used to kissing women. I withdraw and she tries to come for me. I push her back. I hold her there and a frightened look comes into her eyes, and slowly, slowly, slowly I bring my lips to hers, just a fraction of an inch away. I taste her breath. I feel her heat, her open lips, her tongue, her desire, and I place my mouth on hers, my way. I gently touch my tongue to hers, massaging her shoulders, her neck. Her hips begin to move slowly and with that I deepen the kiss, never making a sound, feeling my nipples tighten against her own, my body responding to hers like I have never experienced before.
