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I sat on the couch, suffering to play the inane party game. In theory it was designed to allow the group to get to know one another better, in fact it simply allowed them to alternately brag about their conquests or pry into the past of someone they were interested in. I needed the validation the group dynamic provided even if I wasn’t inspired by their ingenuity. Honest with myself, I know the real reason I hate these games is because I have little to brag about and have never been the subject of prying. Fortunately the game was short lived as people broke off to their separate pleasures.

I followed someone into the kitchen. Within moments another couple of people arrived. While I don’t mind cooking there were others who truly enjoyed it so I left rather then get in the way. Back in the livingroom someone else was channel-surfing. I was sure they would find something worthwhile but at that moment I lacked the patience for them to find it. I was restless. I went to the bathroom on the second floor.

Leaving the bathroom one of the women motioned from her room. Leaning in the doorway I smiled and nodded a greeting. “You wanna smoke and listen to music?” I nodded enthusiastically. She was one of the few in the group who smoked so her room was often a hangout. I’d brought my ‘special blend’ so I packed a pipe and shared. A few people caught the tell-tale scent and wandered quickly in. After a few rounds I rolled a cigaret and looked around to offer only to discover the two of us were alone once more. I was surprised until I remembered that we were the only ones still smoking regular cigs. Everyone else had quit.

The music was a pounding dance beat; the type that’s light on meaning and heavy on the bass. Slowly I began to feel the rhythm pounding through my chest, a subculture pace maker. The electronic backdrop raced up and down my spine. I noticed one of the former smokers walk past the room and slam the barely open door shut. They’re always the worst, they don’t want to admit they still crave the nic. so they rail the louder at us to quit. I could feel the frustrated arrogance as an almost palpable entity. Man, that was certainly a good ‘blend’. My skin tingled with the claustrophobic heat of the small room. The window did little to alleviate the smoke but the occasional breeze drifting through brushed my skin like a salve.

I turned back from the door to the music and company. She was up and dancing; gyrating sinuously to the beat. This was an unexpected thrill. She’d never broken free to dance before except at clubs. Then again I’d never seen her alone in her room before. In my mind she probably forgot I was there, I’d been pretty quiet after all. She was a great dancer. I’d say she could be a professional but truthfully she was, just ballet rather then her current style. Give her a pole and she’d have been making hundreds of dollars in singles and fives every minute. I was slightly embarrassed to realize that my body was offering its services as her pole. I shifted in my place lest she look over and see my discomfort.

The song ended and she collapsed in the comfiest chair I’d pendik escort ever known. It was her room, her chair, her right. Me? I sat on the floor leaning back against the bed (legs subtly folded to mask my growing embarrassment). She looked over at me and smiled, flashing two fingers then a thumbs up. In public it would appear to be a peace sign and thumbs up. Among friends it meant ‘2 high!’ I laughed and nodded.

“So has it really been that long?” I had no idea what she was talking about until she simply raised an eyebrow. I still wasn’t positive but I hedged my bets and simply flashed a sardonic smile, nodding. She whistled. “Not anything?” Again with the disparaging smile. She was referring to my answers in the game. She shook her head. “Why no one night stands?”

“Not my style.” It isn’t.

“What can I say?” She shrugged sympathetically and stood to dance now that the music had once again picked up tempo. It was a small room. Sitting on the floor I was acutely aware of the relative levels of my head and her hips. My anatomy was painfully aware as it strained against my jeans. I rolled and lit another cig in record time, relying on smoking to mask breathing that was rapidly growing irregular.

After the first couple of drags and a quick hit of the ashtray I looked back up, confident once more. I shouldn’t have been. She faced away from me revealing her very cute ass, only about a foot from my face. As her hips worked back and forth she flexed and swayed in time to the music. I couldn’t help but gasp. Her hair flipped over her shoulder as she looked at me, smiling. With a fascinating double gyration her hips led her body around one-eighty.

I lost control of my breathing. Panicking I brought my cig up to focus. In perfect synch with the music and her hips, a hand lashed out to smack my hand aside. I barely kept a hold of the cig, my hand managing to find the ashtray without my assistance. Back and forth her hips swung slowly. With each pass she inched closer. Confused, I looked up. Her hands were locked in her hair, elbows pointing to the sky. Her eyes were closed but her smile told novels of her enjoyment of the moment.

Breathing hard, very confused and more then a little nervous I noticed her outfit. She tended towards loose clothing, even at ‘home’. I’d never really noticed her body through the t-shirts, three sizes too big, and carpenter pants. Now I noticed. She was wearing black spandex pants that fit like a second skin until flaring out at her shins. To accent it she was wearing a tight purple and black-trimmed bodice. Somehow the two covered her well while leaving very little to the imagination. Well, my imagination was working pretty actively, but mostly what I wanted to do with her and what her intentions were now that her brilliant hips were inches from my nose.

The music shifted into the bridge, a slower, more sinister tempo. Her hips rolled forward, her knees bent, and her body arched backwards in counterbalance. Her intoxicating groin made contact with my chest and, still shifting left and right slightly silivri escort in time to the music, began to slide down. Later I would be amazed by her body control, at that moment however I was more concerned with my own. My heart raced and I could barely breath. Socially inept instinct ordered me to run, fortunately her body trapped me against the side of the bed.

Her soft moans were really turning me on. I couldn’t think past the fire in my loins and the unbearable need for her. As the black spandex descended down my t-shirt she brought her body farther and farther forward to maintain her balance. Finally, when her hips met mine, she was fully upright once more only now her bodice pressed against my chest. The bridge ended, the resumed bass line controlling the flow of blood to my groin as she rapidly shifted back and forth. Dancer’s hips enraged my lust easily.

A primal growl escaped my tenuous control. Her eyes flickered open in surprise. As I lost myself in her eyes she deciphered my growl not as frustration or aggression but simply need. Her arms freed themselves to drape casually over my shoulders, hands locking somewhere behind me. I kept my hands planted firmly on the floor, afraid to loose control of them. A constant stream of moans poured from her throat. She smiled but I was entranced by the laughter in her eyes. Her hips began slow circles on my lap. She had brought me to the edge and I swore she was trying to get me to climax. I wasn’t afraid, I knew she couldn’t. I had too much control for a tease, no matter how sensual, to finish me. I was so much more than aroused by it (I’d certainly have to go home to masturbate after this) but society had done well to imprint a fear of premature ejaculation in me.

As her moans grew louder my first thought was that someone else would hear and investigate. I quickly realized the benefit of the loud music followed immediately by the epiphany that her moans had not been faked in an attempt to incite me. The constantly shifting pressure as she maneuvered herself across my body was not only turning her on but bringing her to climax. My eyes widened in wonder as she used me, my very body, to masturbate! What had begun as a ploy to engage me had become, with the aid of our smoking and her skin-tight pants, a desperate need.

Her hands gripped the back of my neck hard. Her elbows dug into my shoulders. She barked out moans that were almost screams as her hips began to jerk wildly. I could feel her body shaking against me. Her gyrations slowed as she lost control of her own body. Something clicked in my mind. My hands rose to grasp her hips. Wearily her eyes crept open in surprised contentment. Using the bulging pants she had ruthlessly caused I held her hips and continued to antagonize her stimulated flesh.

Her eyes flew wide in pleasure. Her head snapped back and she gasped in a breath before losing it all to a scream I was sure could be heard for blocks. Her arms sought to push me away even as her hands gripped me closer. Her shaking chest clung to me. Her hips, like her arms, seemed şirinevler escort unsure if they should flee the joy or embrace it. Unlike her arms I held them, freeing her from the ability to choose.

Her head rushed forward, lips meeting mine in a kiss more passionate then I could have imagined possible. Her weight crushed me against the bed as she poured her ecstasy and need into me. She used my mouth to mute her indomitable screams. Finally she broke the kiss barely managing to whisper, “Stop!” with her hoarse, shaky voice. I took pity on her and did. Her head collapsed against my shoulder.

I held her close, absorbing the still unreleased energy from her and providing a calm center on which to focus. I waited until her breathing slowed. Carefully I used my grip on her hips to slide her off my lap. She hadn’t even gone an inch when her breath caught. “Oh GOD!” Her body was shaking uncontrollably once more. I’d thought her far enough from her orgasm that it was safe. I was wrong.

Her eyes locked with mine. They declared her furious but her grin spoke otherwise. In neither did I see an ounce of reason. In an instant she was crouching where she had been sitting. She threw herself backwards landing on her sensational butt. To my surprise and horror she’d worked my belt and button free and the movement brought my jeans to my knees. I managed to overcome my surprise as she stood and stripped her own pants to her knees along with a blue lace thong. All that was between us now was about three feet of her legs and the thin cotton of my boxers.

My hands reached to restrain her only to be stopped by her iron grip on my arms. At least she couldn’t remove my boxers if she had to keep hold of my arms. I started to protest, to talk her out of it, bring reason back to her mind. She dropped to her knees, the fabric of her pants bunching and cutting against my stomach, and locked me in another kiss. Her primal nature leached into the kiss and infected me.

I felt her cleft reach me. The intervening fabric brought vague reason back to my lust shrouded mind and once again I applauded the obstacle. Dancer’s hips once more shifted back and forth. Tears slid from her eyes as she moaned from her own actions. To late I realized the true reason for the latest torment when she finally succeeded in shifting the fabric to fall away. My length stood proudly bare in the middle of the button-less fly.

She impaled herself. My breath caught. She collapsed against me instantly, lost already to the heights of intimacy. She’d completed her goals however. My body was lost to feral instinct. Buried deep within her I thrust further. She screamed atop me as my hips bounced. I savored the tension. It fled to quickly. My eyes flew wide and I held myself deep within her. “I need to stop NOW!”

Hard eyes locked with mine. Her primal grin spread wide. “Never!” The pushed herself against my base. My head flew back with a growl. From my depths molten lust erupted. Together we bucked without rhythm, me growling, she screaming. Finally, somehow we slowed and she collapsed against me.

After minutes savoring each others warmth her head lolled to one side. We remained connected, our bodies one. “Now I think I understand.” I barely heard her breathless whisper. I cocked my head in confusion. “Why you’ve never had a one night stand.” My confusion grew and it showed. She laughed. “No girl in her right mind would let you get away with only that!”

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