The Dance

1:20 a.m.

 The others move too fast, trying to keep up with the fastest beat of the song. We move slower. Movements aligned with the most basic beat, that deep pounding in the background. It’s at our desired pace. It feels right. We know this beat, its rhythm. The pace of it. Seductive. Sexual. Erotic. I move toward you as if to whisper in your ear, my cheek barely grazing yours. I feel the heat of it, the wetness. We’re both sweating. Rivulets trickle from our hair and down our faces. I feel my shirt cling to my skin. I feel like I’m on fire.

The room is like a sauna. The glass wall that normally lets us look up, over the railroad tracks on a raised berm and see downtown, is now obscured with condensation. Even the floor is wet with it. Our shirts are soaked, clinging to our torsos. I can see the dark circles of each nipple surrounded by your white skin. I know you can see the same when looking at me. My shirt is trapping the heat. I feel like I’m in an oven. But it makes my body feel loose. Movements seem to take no effort. I put my hand on your chest. I feel your own radiating heat. I put my lips to your neck. I part them enough to touch my tongue to your skin. Salt. And some other essence. I breath in and capture your scent and I want you to fuck me. I step back and move in a slow circle till my back is to you. I sense you move close. I can almost feel you moving in time with me. I move my arms outward and yours are parallel to them. A mirror image of my own, moving with the song.

The DJ does a seamless segue, the beat of one song the same as the beginning of the next. I move to the beat. Turning, I see you move closer, and closer, and closer. We’re nearly touching. Heat feels trapped between us. You put a hand on the back of my neck, and I feel it slide upward, fingers running through my hair. Then they grasp it and pull my head back. I move my body to you and let a low moan escape through my open mouth that only you can hear.

3:01 a.m.

My shirt is open and gathered behind me where you use it to bind my arms. My boxer-briefs tent obscenely from your manipulation. I feel your fingers dig into my ass, pushing against the fabric as you touch me, rub over my tightness. I moan and push down with my hips trying to get your fingers inside me. I want to be penetrated.

You kiss me roughly, mouth open, and I take your tongue. I wonder if you can taste your cum.

I feel you move over me and the tug on my boxer-briefs. A quick jerk and I hear them tear then your bare fingers probing me, raking along my ass then rubbing over my tightness. You push against it and I moan into your mouth. Then I shudder with your penetration. Fingers twist and push inward stretching me open. I bring my knees up. I know it opens me up to your manipulation.

Fingers pull out and your cock is pushing against me. You still have on your jeans, just opened enough to free yourself. I feel the soft worn denim slide along my legs, move up and down my spread thighs. I beg you to fuck me.

You whisper into my ear how you want me, how you want to fuck me, and I shudder beneath your body. Bare chest to bare chest, our skin becomes hot, wet, and we move slickly against each other. When I push with my hips, you breach my tight opening and sink into me. I feel every inch as it pushes through my tightness. For a moment, I can’t breathe.

1:45 a.m.

The club goes dark as the music grinds to a new start. The sound of metal on metal reverberates through the speakers as smoke feels the small space. Light begins to strobe through the smoke, and you grab my wrist and pull my arms over my head and down behind my back. I feel your control and push my body against you. Your other hand grabs at my shirt and buttons break loose. It hangs open revealing my torso. My stomach heaves as I try to breathe. I grind myself against you and feel your aroused state. Hard, thick, pressing against my own. The rhythm is furious, hammering at the very air and you twist me around and hold me tight to your body. A hand slides down my chest, my stomach till fingers rake along the top of my jeans, slipping behind the loose waistband. I want to push your hand down further. I want you to take me. To hold me in your grasp. I don’t care who is watching.

You nip the flesh at the back of my neck and bend me backward stretching my body. Flashes of glistening skin reflect in the strobing light. I reach back and hold onto your thighs. I feel the hard muscle of each. The flex as you move, grinding your hardness against my ass. I know before the night is over, you’ll be inside me, pushing deep into my hole. I know you’ll be physical. Demanding of my submission. And I’ll beg for it.

I slide one hand to your crotch and manipulate you till he push me away telling me not so fast. Not so fast? You’re teasing me, making me work for it. I’ll beg and you know it. I’ll go to my knees, here, now, in front of everyone. If that is what it takes. We dance around each other. Move into the other’s realm, then back out. There’s a bounce to our movements that aligns with the hammering blows of the song. The vocals scream out the lyrics. It’s like he’s coming.

The song is over and the segue is a minor break in the sound. The next song starts completely different. Slow, the sound rising, its tempo slowly revealed. Too slow for us. Drink you ask and I follow you through the center of the dance floor weaving a path through undulating bodies. I see them look. The quick glances that can’t bare for us to look back. Long stares that follow us. Hungry stares. Scared. Aroused. There is one innocent I’m tempted to grope as I pass him. He looks so frightened, out of his element. This isn’t a disco. The music isn’t going to sing about being happy. Maybe he only looks out of place but lurking within is a beast. A man ready to climb out of that boy’s body and fuck or get fucked. As I stroll past ignoring him, he tries to say something.

I’m led to the bar where I let you order. I say nothing. I just stare out seeing the eyes staring back. When you turn around and lean back against the bar you pull me against you and kiss my neck, trail your tongue up to my ear and tug on the earlobe. Then you bite, just hard enough to make me shudder. To make me gasp for air. To make my cock flex hard in my jeans. I feel your hand over it, squeezing till I throw my head back into the crook of your neck and shoulder, mouth open, and moan whorishly. Yeah, you’re going to fuck me later.

3:18 a.m.

I have all of you, every inch, and you grind your hips against my ass. Jesus, I cry out then beg you fuck me. You tease me, pull all the way out and wait for me to close up. Then you slam back in, all the way, pushing inward till you are once again grinding against my ass. It seems to take hours for you to push into me and fuck. To piston into my depths faster and faster. I’m so aroused I feel my cock move wetly between us. Your every movement seems to stroke my arousal. Even your breathing.

You hold me down, hands over my head and nip at my right nipple. Then you bite at the hard nub and twist. The pain surges through me. The pleasure. I arch my back pushing against your mouth. I don’t know if I’m trying to get you to stop or to bite harder. I feel my cock flex between us.

You pull out, your cock curved up in its familiar form. Thick shaft with the squiggling veins running along its length. The round flared head, glistening wetly in the dim light. I watch it bob up and down as it drools. You rip my shirt from my body. The sound of it tearing fills the bedroom. You throw it on the floor and do the same to my boxer-briefs. They don’t tear as easy and you're rough getting them pulled free. Then you shove them in my mouth and flip me over. I feel the bed move and know your getting your jeans off. Then I feel you move over me, feel your wet cock push between my cheeks, probing for the place it wants to be. Inside me.

You don’t tease me this time. You don’t go slow or gentle. I feel every inch slam back inside me and I cry into my gag. Your hips bounce off my ass. The smacking sound of it is in rhythm with the protest of the bed. It sounds tortured, squeaking and rocking against the wall. There’s something about the sound of it. This manifestation of our fuck, the physical reality of it. I’m so hard I ache for release. Your fuck drives me into the mattress.

I want you to cum. I want you to do it now. Inside me. I work my ass upward to meet your downward thrust into my depths. You lay on my back and bear hug me; arm tight around my neck. You ask me if I want it and I nearly laugh. Yes, I breath out then beg for you to fuck me, to fuck me harder. You hold me tightly and I feel the strength of your arm around my neck. Muscle bulging, skin so hot my own body is sweating. You move slickly over me.

2:20 a.m.

Last call is announced over through the speakers, then the sound increases as another song begins. We don’t need another round. It’ll dull the senses too much. And we don’t want that. My shirt flies around me like a cape. My skin is wet. Every part of it. I watch you moving in front of me. Shirt tucked into your jeans, your bare chest is shiny, wet, and I lean to it and lick the salt from your skin. You grab my head and hold it to one nipple. I lick it, suck on it till it is even harder, then I bite it. I feel you shudder, but you don’t push me away. Instead you hold me tight to it.

You’ll do me later and I shiver with anticipation.

Then we dance around each other. Bodies rocking up and down, arms out, feet constantly moving to the rapid beat of the music. One light is on over the dance floor. It spins throwing round beams of light out. The light cuts through the smoke and moves up and down the walls, floor and ceiling. It’s hypnotic.

A guy approaches and wants to know we like to party. Of course, we say, but only with each other. We watch his expression go from expectant to disappointment. He slinks away and I hear you laugh. These guys act as if we’re going to get something special. But we know what’s special and they can find their own somewhere else.

Last call is announced again, and you pull me to the side of the room and hold me against the wall by the neck. I know I’m stretched out to my full height. I know my lean body will appear even longer, leaner. You kiss me then tell me its time to go. You tell me you can’t wait to get me home. You tell me your going to fuck the shit out of me.

My cock throbs in my jeans as I follow you out the club.

3:42 a.m.

On my back I can watch you. I’m spread out for your pleasure, holding my legs apart behind the knees. My own cock lies in a pool of its own drool as you hammer my hole. You shove into my depths, over and over and over and I beg you to fuck harder. You take my legs and cross them, holding them to your chest as you twist my lower body. Now I feel every jab inward. It hits my insides so hard I see stars. My cock bounces on my stomach as you fuck with a furious pace. You feel thicker, longer, as if going to new depths. I don’t know how you are still going. I want to cum

I take myself in hand and stroke to your pace. My hand is quickly slick, and the sensation of my masturbation makes me shudder. My hand moves rapidly along my hard shaft and over the leaking head as you push into me. I can’t take it. I’ve been aroused all night and now I feel it. This surge through my body. Release is imminent.

I shudder, feel my hole spasm around your cock as cum spatters my face, neck and chest. I feel your fuck become rough; your thrusts inward harder. You cry out as I pump out my load. Then you shove my legs against my chest and move over me, jamming cock into my depths. I feel the flex of it within me and know you are filling me with your load. The air smells of cum and sweat. It’s heavy with the odor of it. You pull out and fall down beside me. We’re gasping for breath for a few minutes. Then our bodies relax, the fatigue of our exertions takes hold. We should get up and shower, but we’re exhausted. You slide up next to me and hold me. I feel cocooned in your embrace. Secure. Safe. Sleep comes easily.