Desire

He presses his front against my back and pulls my hips in tight. Jesus. He’s already hard. I can feel it through my light flimsy skirt, pressing against my ass, trying to find an opening. Good luck soldier. Not to mention that we both still have clothes on, but I’m plugged in both holes, as he very well knows. 

It was his idea after all.

“Bend over now sweetheart and I’ll slip these guys in...there now. You’ll be allowed to wear panties for the night, until I take them from you and that’ll help to keep the one up  in your pussy. How does that feel?” He was so considerate.

”You know how it feels. It feels fucking amazing...but I really can’t imagine dancing like this. Well, ok I can, but how am I going to keep from coming? God, it’s hard to even walk properly. How am I not supposed to drop down to my knees and start sucking every available cock in the place?”

Damn him anyway! He knew how long it’s been since he’s allowed her to come. Hmmmm... maybe she could slip one by him on the dance floor tonight. Those plugs were already driving her crazy. No, no, be a good sub. But come on, a girl could only take so much! Oh, this was going to be... heaven.

”Those are all good questions...and not my problem. As to the dancing, well, if you can walk, you can dance. So walk your little ass out the door. I feel the need for a little public exercise.”

And so, here we are.

tbc 😸

I love to dance. Next to sex itself, it’s the most freeing, joyous, erotic, expressive, exhilarating experience I can have. And starting with my generation, you don’t even need a partner, though in a place like this everyone becomes your partner, sort of. At least until people start to pair up (or tripple up or whatever) and sneak off to a dark corner, or the bathroom, or just on the dance floor itself.

But before that happens, if it happens at all, there’s the dancing. And sometimes, that’s all I need.

I close my eyes and feel the music and the dance become one.

Gyrating hips, pumping arms, stomping feet, all in time with a beat as old as man could beat a drum, we still engage in the ancient rites and rituals of times gone by. Yet nothing about this feels old. Nothing about this feels ancient. It feels alive and vital and as relevant today as it ever was. It feels immediate and urgent and pounding. It feels bold and aggressive and sexy and absolutely magnificent. 

Maybe that was its magic. Maybe that’s why we continue to dance when we could be just staying at home gaming or reading or just swiping right to have sex. I mean really, why are we still dancing?

But dancing we are, and about twenty minutes into this, into giving in and get lost within the music and gyrating bodies around me, I feel two hands slide around from behind me and grab my hips and, amazingly, I hear his voice deep within my right ear.

”Here Kitty, Kitty.”

tbc 😸

I make my way through the dance floor, trying to find a spot I feel...comfortable in. Not easy, but not too hard either. Most people just lean further against each other, if that were possible, in order to make room for one more. I do get a couple of drinks spilled a little on me along the way, but that’s just par for the course and anyway, I kinda like the cool wet sticky feeling  as I enter the ring. A bit like a baptism welcoming me into the fold. I press a finger against the wettest spot on my top, above my left breast,  a large circle of...hmmm rum and something, (probably coke) I taste as I caress my finger with my tongue. I suck it a little longer than I need to as I’ve just spotted some darker haired guy watching me a couple of dancers over (which really only amounted to a couple of feet in this throng). Can’t really make out any distinguishing features with all the flickering lights but I can tell he’s male. And taller than me by a few good inches. 

I pull my finger out and wave it at him. But he just glances away. Oh well.

Time to dance. Or have I started already?

tbc 😸

The music throbbed. As did the mass of barely covered human flesh writhing and grinding against each other to its incessant beat. The music was so loud it completely enveloped and surrounded you, driving that baseline through you to your core so that your whole body throbbed along with it, so that you really didn’t hear it anymore but just felt it, unable to separate yourself from it, becoming one with it. That incessant beat that both mimicked and drove your heart to beat harder, faster, stronger.

The only other sensation that competed with the music was the almost overwhelmingly pungent scent of humans in lust that hit you like a brick wall upon entering the club. Their sweat-slicked skin reeking of pheromones, alcohol and all the combined perfumes of the world pouring out of them as they danced with and against each other like one gigantic gang-bang of humanity.

Perfect. It was just what she was looking for.

The Warehouse was a huge club in the seedier side of town which had more abandoned stores on its adjoining streets than not, but on Saturday nights all kinds of people from all walks of life came together for one thing and one thing only.

To dance.

(What? You thought I’d write something else? Ok, here goes...)

The music, the smells, even the otherworldly lighting of the club all combined to provide an environment ripe for that most basic of animal behaviour. Because we all know that dancing leads to the dark side. Which is sex. Footloose said so.

And so, driving out all other thoughts, all other sensations but that of the primitive and primal urges to join in the mating dance, I entered the club...

tbc 😸

Acrobat
U2

Don't believe what you hear
Don't believe what you see
If you just close your eyes
You can feel the enemy
When I first met you girl
You had fire in your soul
What happened your face of melting in snow?
Now it looks like this
And you can swallow
Or you can spit
You can throw it up
Or choke on it
And you can dream
So dream out loud
You know that your time is coming 'round
So don't let the bastards grind you down
No, nothing makes sense
Nothing seems to fit
I know you'd hit out
If you only knew who to hit
And I'd join the movement
If there was one I could believe in
Yeah I'd break bread and wine
If there was a church I could receive in
'Cause I need it now
To take the cup
To fill it up
To drink it slow
I can't let you go
I must be an acrobat
To talk like this
And act like that
And you can dream
So dream out loud
And don't let the bastards grind you down
Oh, it hurts baby
What are we going to do? Now it's all been said
No new ideas in the house and every book has been read
And I must be an acrobat
To talk like this
And act like that
And you can dream
So dream out loud
And you can find
Your own way out
And you can build
And I can will
And you can call
I can't wait until
You can stash
And you can seize
Responsibilities
And I can love
And I can love
And I know that the tide is turning 'round
So don't let the bastards grind you down

They have never proven me wrong...fortunately and sadly.. 

🙁

The sheer negligee she was wearing, he tore off her body with one easy tug. She didn’t care. The sound of the tearing fabric turned her on even more.

Arching up, she screamed his name as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, followed by the other. He trailed a pathway between her breasts before moving down, dipping into her belly button, and finally he was at her pussy.
He opened the lips of her pussy and stroked his tongue down her slit. In one swift thrust, he pushed his tongue inside her, making her moan and call his name. 
It had been so long and she knew without a doubt she wouldn’t last long at all. He moved his tongue back up to her slit and began to stroke over her clit, each flick driving her even wilder to the point of no return.
He flung her into orgasm, startling her with how hard and pleasurable it was. She’d had orgasms before, but nothing like this.
She arched up, and he held her down, prolonging her orgasm.
Only when she begged him to stop, did he.
Collapsing to the bed, Hayley panted, basking in the afterglow bliss of her orgasm.
“You’re much better now,” he said.

Excerpt From
Owned by the Alpha
12 Author Anthology

— well, at least someone’s having fun! 

😸❤️😈

Someone recently wrote a blog about knowing when you’re ready to move on that spoke to me. Because that’s where I’m at right now myself. I so want to move on but I also want it to be from a position of true readiness and not just... need.

Need to connect, need to serve, need to belong to someone. Especially when you’ve found a particular someone that could be just what you’re looking for.

The need can be overwhelming at times. And this need is real, deep and a part of us all. 

But it makes you vulnerable to making snap decisions. Unwise decisions. Decisions that involve other people and which you can come to regret later because you’ve hurt them as well as yourself.

So I’m thinking of the old adage, ‘when in doubt, don’t.’ 

At least for now. Because the doubt is also real. And it’s all about me. And it’s been around now for a while. And I need to deal with the doubt before I can serve again.

So, moving on? 

I need to move out the doubt before I can move in someone new. 

Damn... anyone got a forklift I can borrow?

😸

Kitty