A Story, Part Three.
She watched the band, mouthing the lyrics as he gyrated behind her.
This was part of their game: they danced together but never spoke; not about the obvious, at least. While the band was on, her full attention was with them. Between sets, though, she was all his; no lyrics to focus on, only the thump-thump-thump beat that each person in the club followed, hip-to-hip. A defined, infectious atmosphere of men and women with two goals in mind - getting drunk and getting laid.
One hand on her shoulder, one on her hip.
Both hands around her waist, hers on his, hip-to-hip, her back to his front.
His chin on her shoulder, her head against his cheek.
His voice whispering in her ear, she could hear the smile on his face.
She leaned back towards him, and he kissed her cheek.
She began to move away, but he held her to him and gently bit her shoulder, her neck, nibbling on her ear while growling and laughing.
"You're cruel," she nearly told him, but held it back. He'd beaten her to the words - and he was doing most of the work!
A few minutes passed as they danced on. He motioned to go outside.
They each leaned against her car, he asked how much longer she would be in town.
"Two weeks," she replied, "and I'll be back around Christmas."
"I have to see you again!" he told her.
"I'll be here next week!" she smiled, knowing that wasn't what he meant.
He put one arm over her shoulders and held her face in his hand, caressing her cheek and lips with his thumb. She kissed it.
Suddenly he was leaning on her leaning on her car. Again, the first kisses were gentle and cautious, but soon were heavy and wanting.
Her hands pushing her away from the car and into him, his hands on the window behind her.
Catcalls and car horns from the parking lot around them went ignored.
He pulled her leg around his.
He dropped his head to her shoulder, kissing and nibbling while his hand returned to her cheek. She licked his thumb, causing him to jump and look to her face wildly. She smiled at him, ran her tongue across her teeth, and asked innocently, "What?"
"The back seat of your car?" he was nearly pleading.
"No, it's too small," she responded.
They continued kissing, his hands exploring her upper body.
His mouth again travelled to her neck, just lightly enough for her to feel but not hard enough as to leave a mark - or satisfy her. Yet he kept accusing her of teasing.
She asked, "You think this is bad? It can be so much worse."
Between kisses, he asked her how that was so, and how much worse could she really be?
"Tip of the iceberg," she smiled. "Besides, we're both still clothed!"
He let out a grunt and bit his own lip, struggling against primal urges. He'd already told her there was no blood left in his brain, he couldn't even remember what his name was.
He caressed her cheek again, and this time she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked lightly, swirling her tongue around.
He moaned, growled, and was about to retaliate when his phone rang. His ride was ready to leave. He cursed the driver, kissing her one last time before she turned to get into her car.
The next day, she couldn't help but smile at the condensation pattern on her car window.
This was part of their game: they danced together but never spoke; not about the obvious, at least. While the band was on, her full attention was with them. Between sets, though, she was all his; no lyrics to focus on, only the thump-thump-thump beat that each person in the club followed, hip-to-hip. A defined, infectious atmosphere of men and women with two goals in mind - getting drunk and getting laid.
One hand on her shoulder, one on her hip.
Both hands around her waist, hers on his, hip-to-hip, her back to his front.
His chin on her shoulder, her head against his cheek.
His voice whispering in her ear, she could hear the smile on his face.
She leaned back towards him, and he kissed her cheek.
She began to move away, but he held her to him and gently bit her shoulder, her neck, nibbling on her ear while growling and laughing.
"You're cruel," she nearly told him, but held it back. He'd beaten her to the words - and he was doing most of the work!
A few minutes passed as they danced on. He motioned to go outside.
They each leaned against her car, he asked how much longer she would be in town.
"Two weeks," she replied, "and I'll be back around Christmas."
"I have to see you again!" he told her.
"I'll be here next week!" she smiled, knowing that wasn't what he meant.
He put one arm over her shoulders and held her face in his hand, caressing her cheek and lips with his thumb. She kissed it.
Suddenly he was leaning on her leaning on her car. Again, the first kisses were gentle and cautious, but soon were heavy and wanting.
Her hands pushing her away from the car and into him, his hands on the window behind her.
Catcalls and car horns from the parking lot around them went ignored.
He pulled her leg around his.
He dropped his head to her shoulder, kissing and nibbling while his hand returned to her cheek. She licked his thumb, causing him to jump and look to her face wildly. She smiled at him, ran her tongue across her teeth, and asked innocently, "What?"
"The back seat of your car?" he was nearly pleading.
"No, it's too small," she responded.
They continued kissing, his hands exploring her upper body.
His mouth again travelled to her neck, just lightly enough for her to feel but not hard enough as to leave a mark - or satisfy her. Yet he kept accusing her of teasing.
She asked, "You think this is bad? It can be so much worse."
Between kisses, he asked her how that was so, and how much worse could she really be?
"Tip of the iceberg," she smiled. "Besides, we're both still clothed!"
He let out a grunt and bit his own lip, struggling against primal urges. He'd already told her there was no blood left in his brain, he couldn't even remember what his name was.
He caressed her cheek again, and this time she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked lightly, swirling her tongue around.
He moaned, growled, and was about to retaliate when his phone rang. His ride was ready to leave. He cursed the driver, kissing her one last time before she turned to get into her car.
The next day, she couldn't help but smile at the condensation pattern on her car window.