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Story written by a Friend...Part TWO
Story written by a Friend...Part TWO
Having heard his sharp hissing intake of breath and having had the tangibility of his response against her mound, she leaned in close once again and said: I know you will have me tonight, but don’t forget, I too will have YOU! She took his hand and held it against her breast, the music pulsing and moving over them, placed his palm over her hard nipple, rubbing his hand over her breast with her own and let him feel her pounding heart as well as her pebbly aroused state.
Waiting to see what he would do next, she leaned back and looked into his eyes, trying to see who would be the leader into this odyssey. Who would take the first step to leave the confines of social safety, and explore the full realm of dark and feral passion? There was energy charged pause as they stood there and watched each other. Slowly, a look of determination crossed the stranger’s eyes.
Removing his hand from her back, he turned her around slowly, brushing the pads of his fingers along her sensitive skin as she spun slowly around, his hand now coming to rest on her fluttering stomach. Pulling gently back, he brought her buttocks flush to his thighs, evidence of his acute arousal pressed oh so hotly into the small of her back, making her gasp with the intense heat of his sex. He then began to move, slowly setting a rhythm of intense pleasure in time with the swaying music. He made her feel like one giant ball of sensation, her hot skin was flushed with the need to touch and be touched. He splayed his hand on her belly and swayed with the movements of her own hips in this primal dance that was more than just a dance. He moved in a different direction on the dance floor, taking her somewhere. Her eyes had been closed, in an attempt to perceive all of the feelings stirring inside of her. Having opened her eyes to his command, she noticed the full mirrored wall of the dance floor was now in front of them. Looking at the vision in front of her she could not believe that the picture of the woman in front of herself.
Looking into the captured scene on the mirror, and the intense and hungry look in his eyes, she saw the raw beauty of two people caught in a dance of connection, power and fate. She took her hands that were hung by her sides, brought them around behind him, and grasped his thighs with her long nails; holding on to whatever shred of sanity was left. She felt she would soon to be shattered into oblivion. The music changed to a faster tempo, but their bodies remained in slow driving rhythm. Moving together like liquid honey pouring, the sounds of primal Enigma led their passions on an auditory journey, as well as a physical one.
Deciding to get into the game, and slowly bending forward, she fisted her hands in her hair as she moved her buttocks a pulsing rhythm against his hot erection. Not having seen, but sensing his acute reaction to her bold move, she looked over her shoulder to catch his face in her glance, his hands now on her hips and his eyes closed in a private thought. Lost to a moment within himself and the pleasure he was feeling he had his head tipped back. Standing upright again, she slowly began to turn in his arms, never ceasing with her lustrous movements, and danced in wicked delight around his body. Coming up in behind him, she realized she was now in the driver’s seat for a moment.
Placing her hands on his hips, she pressed close and blew against the back of his neck, while slowly running her hands up his sides, to his shoulders, and then turned him around. Pushing back a bit, she began to dance. Her body in movement with the tribal beat, her hands roaming over her own body, letting him see what she wanted done; how she wanted to be stroked, petted, invaded. Never losing contact with those lustrous eyes of his she thought of one word: magnetic. That was the only word to describe his eyes; it was like staring into a sensual abyss of emotional upheaval. Drowned in sublime realization of a perfect moment in time, it was amazing to her, this out of body experience she was having. She did not care if anyone else in the room saw the dance that was being played out in free abandon.
Closing her eyes, she gave up to whatever was about to happen. Knowing that in this lifetime people dreamed of such a mystical connection on this earthly plane. It was written in sonnets, poetry and a thousand novels; here it was reality, truth defined in a single glance.
She opened her eyes, her breathing heavy, and she moved with the tempo change in the music. The erotic driving rhythm of the song flowing in her blood, making her body pound out a feral message of want and need. He was standing still watching her. Frozen in the mirror watching dreams unfold, she could smell his lust, but it was more than that, more than simple want. Souls were screaming to be heard and united; merged in a communion of skin and sound.
With only the slightest of recognized movement, she was in his arms and her mouth under assault, her body being bent back and devoured; time stood still. It was a commanding mouth, and it made everything inside her head and heart pause in pure wonder at such a touch of souls. No sonnets could have ever been written about this and there was not a poem that would even deem to attempt such depth of tongue and lip.
Feeling something cold and hard against her back she opened her eyes. Feeling the mirror at her back she raised her eyes and looked into his. His hands were now braced beside her head, the driving pulse of the song not even coming close to the look in his eyes. His chest heaved and his lips were tight with control, his nostrils flared. Language was now not being spoken in tongue, but in a natural and earthy instinct. Primal messages being spoken, she nodded the slightest bit, acknowledging the unspoken question, loving him for asking. Taking her hand, he pulled her after him out of the club and into the balmy, sensually driven night.
The air pulsated with the smell of Jasmine and the aura of erotic encounters. Her body followed this tall enigmatic stranger into the unknown, only knowing that at the end of it, there would most likely be a beginning of sorts. A beginning of what though, she did not know.
The music could still be heard as he led her through dark alleyways in the night. Other sounds permeated the air as well; her labored and aroused breath, her heart thudding a staccato tattoo in her chest, the pounding of their feet as they moved swiftly through the dark scented night.
Moving in driving pace chasing him through this dream, she was suddenly stopped and her back was moved flush against a wall and pressed against cool brick. Tucked into a secluded, yet well lit, alcove of sorts, she heard the sound of a fountain somewhere nearby. Her breath caught at the look in his eyes; determination, lust, and something elusive she just could not name. Maybe awe? Raising her hand to his lips, looking at their lush fullness, so sexy on this man, she gave in to the need to touch. Licking her finger, she traced his lip and brought it back to hers, sucking the tip gently, raised her green eyes to his in wonder and question.
A slight hiss once again escaping him, and with lightning fast movement, she found herself raised high against the wall, her legs thrown around him for anchor. His hips applied sublimely pleasurable pressure to her hot and aroused mound, he hooked his arms up under hers, creating a rest of sorts while his hands held her hot mouth captive. With the slightest of sound the word madness escaped from his lips. She wonders if he means madness of feeling, or madness of location; either would suit this situation. Neither cared who saw, delving into her succulent cavern; his tongue began mating with hers in frenzied state, daring her to ask him to be easy, as if she possibly could.