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It’s dark here at the concert. Dark and loud. The music pulses though my body like an extra heartbeat as I dance in place here amongst the crowd.
I feel alive.
I feel free.
Dancing, bouncing in place, surrounded on all sides by other people, all dancing, all listening, all happy.
The girl in front of me stumbles, and I step backwards, bumping gently into a tall man behind me. I turn my head and look up, smiling into his blue eyes. There’s no point apologising – it’s too loud. He’d never hear me even if I shouted. So I turn away and dance again.
As I dance I remember his blue eyes smiling back. I liked those eyes. I liked the smile in them. Music pulses. Heart pulses.
I pulse.
Slowly, slowly I dance backward again, until my buttocks are moving softly against the man behind me. I dance and dance, swaying and moving my bottom over his lap, rubbing, touching, moving away a little only to come back with firmer pressure.
The music is thudding in my head and my blood and my cunt.
When you are set
to throw in your hand
“Mmmm…. I wish you would…” I think, directly at the man.“C’mon… kağıthane escort throw your hand in. To me.”
I feel him hard against my buttocks as I sway against him, and move more boldly, gluing my arse to his hardness as I move.
My hair brushes the tops of my shoulders as my head sways back and forwards, and suddenly I can feel his breath, hot on my skin.
I feel his hand brush my hip, lightly, as if to keep his balance, and quickly raise my own to grasp it. His muscles tighten; for an instant I thinks he will pull away… but then his arm relaxes and I pulls his hand around my waist, leaving his palm cupping the curve of my tummy, bare between skirt and top.
For an instant I feel his lips on my cheek, then he straightens up, flexing his muscles and pressing his hardness against me.
My skirt is short and I feel it riding up further between us as we dance together, my bottom pressing right against the cotton of his pants. They feel soft, and what is inside them feels hot and hard
Pulse. Pulse.Pulse.
i’ll be the one to pick you up again
when sarıyer escort you decide you’ve had enough of it
“Enough?”I think,“Yes, I’ve had enough. Of this anyway.”
I reach my hand back around us and grasp the waistband of his pants, giving it a sharp, downward tug. Even over the music, through my whole body I feel his gasp.
I bring my hand forward again. He knows what I want, what I’m offering. Let him take it. Let him take me. Here. In the dark, with the music throbbing through us both.
when your eyes are closed
My eyes are closed
He hasn’t moved. But he hasn’t pulled away, either. I press against him harder, slide up and down his length with my buttocks, knowing he can feel me.
He moves away a little and I want to scream. But then he moves back, close against me, and I feel his hardness slide over the top of my thigh and across the crack of my arse. His hand around my belly tightens and he thrusts between my thighs. My skirt is crumpled between our bodies, but to anyone but us we look … not innocent. But not as though my pussy sefaköy escort is bare and his cock is rubbing over it, either.
i’ll be the one to pick you up again
As the words pour through my head, he does just that. Both his hands go to my hips and he lifts me an inch, two inches from the floor. I arch my back, tilting my hips as he lowers me slowly onto him.
And he’s inside me.
We dance, the music pulsing through our blood. I bounce and sway. He thrusts, gently, slowly, making it part of the dance. His hands clasp my waist tightly and I lean back against him, grinding and squirming my arse against his belly, my pussy twisting on his cock.
when you decide you’ve had enough of it
“Enough?. Not ever” I think and arch my back hard as I come, wrapped tightly around the prick of this stranger with the blue eyes and the smile.
His hands tighten on me for a moment and my feet leave the floor for an instant as he thrusts into me a final time, then becomes still.
I lean my head back against his chest and catch my breath. I feel him slowly drawing himself out of my, under the cover of my skirt, and readjusting his waistband. He pushes my skirt down over my buttocks, giving one a little squeeze.
I feel a light kiss on the back of my neck… and then he’s gone.
It’s dark here at the concert. Dark and loud. The music pulses though my body like an extra heartbeat as I dance in place here amongst the crowd.
i’ll be the one
i’ll be the one
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32