MCBBT50/Trust her, she seems fun…

From Create Your Own Story

This is all madness. She is a little older than your daughter you think.

You should go home and take up knitting or something.

Your body is saying something different. You are turned on. Her boldness, her confidence... Her body…why not. You only live once you think.

You set your drink down, lock eyes with her, give her your come get me look and head out on the dance floor. Her face gleams a wicked smile. You wonder for a moment if your prey or predator but you don’t care…you’re going to have some fun.

Your heart is racing, you are excited, your feel… turned on.

It is almost an outer body experience. You move out on the dance floor and like a guided missile you slide next to Beth. You move your body to the music and let Beth grind against you. She is fluid but pressing and wanting. Her hands start exploring your body. You are a little nervous but… she chooses you. She becomes more and braver. Her hands glide along your body, ass, hips, and breast. She then puts your hands on her. You freeze a little, OH MY GOD this is all madness, but give in to curiosity. She led me out to the dance floor, pulling my hand, willing me to come with her. She stopped, turning, her body slowly swaying as I settled next to her. The beat hit low, vibrations of sound felt more than heard, and she thrust her hips. We locked eyes, and I watched her body move, the flashing lights, causing her to move in somewhat jerky, robotic patterns, for fragments of an instant ceasing to exist, before being there again, in front of my eyes.

I matched her rhythm, our bodies moving in point and counterpoint, her leaning back as I leaned in, me leaning back as she leaned in. A new song took over, the tempo changing, yet still fast, furious. We merged together, bodies pressed tightly, lips inches from meeting, thoughts lingering, before stepping back, dancing for each other, with each other, against each other. Then, melding again. Sweat, already dripping down my back, my face, exploded from me as our bodies pressed together, heating up even more. Heat not just from the pure, physical heat from a person, but heat of more. The beat, the smell of cigarettes, of alcohol, of other, more illicit things, of bodies writhing, of pure humanity, perfumed by scents sometimes, but underlying it all, of pure human inhibition, created a heat that was deep, primal, intoxicating. The heat of lust. The heat of lips against lips, of skin against skin. Her lips parted slightly, whether in anticipation or to speak, I was not sure. A slight glint in her eye suggested an invitation, but that could have just been the strobing lights. She laughed, and we continued dancing.

Her body moved with grace, and with raw sexuality. The mixture was strange, but seemed right. This time, her intention was clear as she again parted her lips, bringing them so close that I could feel her breath, smell the drinks she had had, almost taste it. Then, our lips met, and all thought dissolved in a blur. You can feel your want between your legs grow moister. You, who has been in control your life, are about to let go.

Is it the alcohol?

Is it your lust?

Is it your lust fueled by alcohol?

You don’t care…someone wants you…and you haven’t felt that in a long ttime You are full on making out with a girl…a young girl… you just met…on a Dance floor.

Do you…

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