January 2023

 

By Mags Hayward

“That one.” She pointed at a man wearing a shirt that caught the lights, turning it vermillion and mauve in turn. The rich, mesmerising colours had captured her attention, not the shirt’s occupant. But, deciding she liked his short brown hair and the way he moved his shoulders and head to the music, she slid from her barstool.

Sure-footed in silver stilettos despite a giddiness from the vodka and beer, she made a beeline for him. The thrumming beat vibrated her very core, like the Devil’s own heartbeat, as she strutted, beer bottle in hand, across the packed dance floor. She was dressed to impress and her silver sequined dress scattered light like the glitter balls above her, the fabric stretched over jiggling tits and ass with not a millimetre to spare.

Eyes on him, she paused to dance: arms aloft, hips swaying. She craved attention – his attention – and she got it. Good. She held his gaze, wanting him to know her intention. He’d turn away if he wasn’t interested. Well? He didn’t move. Eyes on her, he sipped his beer, waiting. Got him.

With a kittenish smirk on her prettily made-up face, lashes half-lowered, she made her final approach. Slowing her pace, she swigged beer while he stepped forward, closing the gap. Gaze locked with his, she licked plump, painted lips and dropped her bottle to the floor. Then she draped her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

She heard his bottle drop, felt him kick it away. Strong arms squeezed around her and, when he opened his mouth, she tasted whiskey along with the beer. She liked it. Shuddering, she drew a breath, filling her nostrils with the tang of sweat and cologne. Male scents that made her heart flutter. And the heat of his body felt good against her skin. Wasting no time, she slid a hand down his back and around to his crotch. His cock strained against his jeans, the bulge hard against her palm. Sighing, she kissed him, tasted him, while stroking his erection to the music’s pulsing beat.

Groaning, he tensed and pulled away. He cast around nervously.

“Uh-uh.” She placed a finger on his lips before he could speak. Arching an eyebrow, she nodded to a corner away from the spinning disco lights and cavorting crowds. She took his hand and he willingly followed. Once hidden in the violet shadows, he pushed her against the black breeze-block wall and kissed her fiercely. She let out a low moan, loving the urgency of his kisses and the soft grunts that sang in her ears. His hard cock dug into her abdomen as he pressed against her – hot and needy.

Impatient, she fumbled with his belt and loosened his jeans. She fished his cock from inside his boxers and held it triumphantly in her fist. It was velvety yet firm and moist at the tip. The scent of pre-cum filtered through the cocktail of beer, sweat and cologne. She inhaled deeply. Loved it. Eagerly, she sank to her knees and slipped his cock into her mouth.

                She sucked, slurped, taking him deep. Then she gently drew back his foreskin and swirled her tongue over his tip. The sweet taste of his juices made her mouth water, and, drawing a breath, she licked along his shaft before closing her lips over his dome. Opening her throat and holding back her choking reflex, she took his entire length. His jeans had slipped, and gripping his fleshy buttocks, she pulled him close, encouraging him to fuck her face.

Colourful Shirt took the hint. He fucked her roughly, grunting as he did. His cock pulsing, he tensed, and she waited for a flood of hot semen to fill her mouth. She gasped when he pulled his cock from her maw. Shocked, she looked – then smirked. His pained expression said he wasn’t done.

Second-guessing his next move, she rose to her feet and faced the wall. Braced against it, she quivered when he hiked up her tight skirt and dragged her thong aside. His cock nosed her soaking slit. “Ahh…” He slid smoothly inside and fucked her hard: deep plunges, balls slapping against her ass. Her knees trembled as the twinges of an orgasm grew inside, tingling through her veins like a vodka chaser.

The onslaught was brief. With a guttural groan, his pumping ceased and fingernails dug into her fleshy thighs. His body juddered as he came inside her. He paused to catch his breath, cock pulsing, then slick cream dripped down her thighs when he slowly withdrew. 

Her orgasm – so close – stalled. Desperate for release, she reached for her clit and rubbed furiously. “Yes…Yes…” The waves built and the first tiny jolts sent her head spinning. Closer, almost there. “Yes!” Peaking, spasms shook her. She gripped the wall, her knees threatening to give way, and clamped her thighs around the other hand. She cried out, delirious with bliss.

Panting, she slowly opened her eyes. Colourful Shirt’s amused face loomed into focus. She grinned at him, giggles bursting from her as the aftershock hit. Wide-eyed, he nodded his approval. Then he tucked his wilting cock into his boxers and pulled up his jeans. He quickly buckled his belt and smoothed down his shirt. Following his lead, she straightened her dress and fluffed her hair. She smiled and he nodded back.  Then she turned away.

Wet knickers squelching, she re-joined the melee of noise, colour and hot-blooded youths. She weaved across the dancefloor to her friends huddled near the bar. They applauded as she approached and she, pleased with herself, dropped a curtsey. A beer was passed her way and she swigged gratefully.  

“Your turn,” she yelled, throwing an arm around the blonde girl to her right.

“Okay, you’re on.” The girl, laughing, scanned the crowd. “That one.”