Love in the Club

It had been so long since I went out, let loose, and had some fun. My friend Jessica met me for drinks, but I decided to stay when she left. Tuned, half horny, and wanting to forget about this shitty work week, I make my way to the crowded dance floor, dark save for the spotlights dancing in tune with the beat.

A few songs in, a body presses against my back. I think nothing of it since it's so crowded. After some time, long, skilled fingers dance down my body. Under my chin, down my neck, between my breasts. They don't stop until they meet the denim of my jeans, and even then, he tucks his fingers gently into the waistband. I let him.

Music reverberates around us, blaring off the walls, pounding in my chest. It's warm from the bodies crammed so tightly I can't even turn around to see who's touching me.

"Shhh," he whispers in my ear when I try.

He must be tall because I can feel the way his body dips to lower his lips to my ear. The music changes to something slower, deeper, darker. He grabs my hips and pulls me back against him. My back to his chest, my head against his muscular frame.

"Let me make you feel good," he whispers into my skin.

It's been so long since I've reacted in such a away. So long since a man has hardened my nipples with just his voice. So long since I've orgasmed without my toy. So long that I give into ecstasy and nod my head.

The stranger behind me doesn't automatically shove his hands in my pants like I want him to. Instead, he slowly turns us so our fronts are shieled in a darker part of the club, so no one can see what he's going to do, so no one can hear me.

My eyes close as he whispers soft words into my ear. "Your skin is so soft," he says. "Your body is so sexy," he whispers. "Your hair would look so fucking good wrapped around my wrist," he coos.

That one earns a gentle whimper as he gives a little tug on the ends. A quiet laugh sounds in my ear before he palms my belly with his right hand, trailing under my shirt to my breasts. One large, warm hand rests just under while the other hand catches up. Not wearing a bra under this shirt was the best idea ever.

Suddenly and all at once, his mouth attaches to my neck in a soft bite before he sucks my skin between his teeth. My back arches as I cry out, my breasts push against his hands.

Slowly, his teeth sinking into my neck, the stranger ghosts his hands above my breasts, just barely grazing my nipples.

"Mmmm," he whispers in my ear, kissing his way to my jaw and back. "You feel absolutely divine."

"Please," I whimper, the bass of the music thumping through our bodies.

"Please what, beautiful?"

"Touch me," I beg.

His large hands skim my breasts two more times before his fingers find my nipples and pinch gently. There's a tether straight to my core, and my insides are lit on fire.

"Sing for me," he grunts, fingers plucking my erect nipple like an instrument.

My body presses against his, my back arching away to feel his hands fully envelope my chest, but he denies me.

And then he plucks again, harder.

My moans sound loudly, desperate for more.

He chuckles against me. "Good girl."

Finally, after minutes of agony, he palms my breasts, squeezing, kneading, massaging.

"Yes," I beg, wanting to shove my own fingers down my pants to get some relief.

"So soft, so supple," he groans. "What these would feel like wrapped around my cock. Should we find out?"

I nod vehemently. Anything. I'll do anything.

The stranger plays with my breasts for the remainder of the song, his hips pressing into mine so I can feel the pressure and hardness of what he's keeping so hidden against my lower back.

His left hand stays on my breast while his right travels lower, skimming my belly, popping the button of my jeans, roaming south the edge of my lace panties.

My jeans are tight, so his fingers are squeezed within the confines, but he makes the most of it. One finger strokes my slit over the lace and it scratches so beautifully against my clit. I can't help but cry out.

He rubs harder, cupping my center now, grinding his body in time with his thrusts. The pressure of his fingers against my opening reminds me of the pleasure a cock can bring. It's been so long--too long if I'm honest--since a thick, hard cock has stretched me open until it hurts. My last boyfriend, three years ago, was average in size. I never complained as I loved him, but it never filled me like I so desperately crave.

I'd ask him for hard, faster, deeper, and he couldn't fulfill those needs. Silently, I pray this stranger has exactly what I need.

The stranger pulls his fingers back up and slips inside my panties. My smooth mound greets him, and he groans in my ear.

"Is your pussy shaved?"

"Waxed."

"Fuck me," he hisses.

One finger trails through the wetness sticking against my skin before he presses on my folds and slips between them. Inside my pussy lips, he rocks his fingers slowly up and down, avoiding my clit. The tip of his finger presses against my opening, but never enters.

The same moment he trails up and circles my clit, the fingers of his left hand pinch my nipple. Hit with a double sensation, I cry out in deep pleasure. I'm a lot closer than I ever thought I would be so quickly. My fingers circle around his wrist as he works my clit over in rough, slow strokes.

"You like this?" he asks. "You like getting off in a crowd of people? Who knows who can see you, Beautiful. Should I turn you around and make it show?"

"No," I pant.

"You don't want the whole club to watch you come? Perhaps I'll lay you out on a table, lower to my knees, feast on your smooth cunt."

"Mmmm," I cry out, hips grinding against his hand as he nearly pushes me over the edge.

"When you come, I better fucking hear it," he demands in my ear, mouth pressed so close to my face I can smell the whiskey on his breath.

Suddenly, the hand that was gripping my breast travels north and long fingers wrap around my neck. There's enough pressure where the noise drowns out and my breaths come in gulps. His fingers rub firmer, faster, and he pants in my ear all the dirty, depraved things he wants to do to me.

"I'll take you back to my place, tie you to my bed, fuck you all night long. Would you like that?" he asks, grinding his erection against me. "Answer me."

"Yes," I hiss.

"I don't think I'll make it home. I need to tear your fucking jeans off in the backseat of my car and fuck your brains out until I full you with my come."

"Yes. Yes!" I pant louder, my fingernails dig into his forearm.

"I'm going to stretch this little pussy. You're going to wish you had never met me." He accentuates his threat with a firmer grip on my throat, and I explode like the music around us.

He rubs and rubs against my swollen clit until my hips shake and I'm so sensitive I can barely stand. Then, he pulls his fingers my panties, a long trail of arousal follows with him, and he sticks his fingers in my mouth.

"Taste your come."

I lick them clean. My tongue traces against every finger he has shoved inside my mouth. The stranger pulls out, turns me, and forces his mouth against mine before I can even look at his face.