If you would've told me twenty-four hours ago that I would find myself out on the dance floor of one of the hottest clubs in Paris, I would've laughed in your face.
Alas, here I was. Between multiple sweaty bodies with a concoction of different expensive alcohols in my cup that filled my insides with warmth. Large hands gripping me in areas that others would find sinful. However, I basked in the attention, moving to lay my head back against the person behind me, feeling how firm their chest was against the back of my head.
Their hands were wandering everywhere, up and down my legs, towards the inside of my thighs. Sometimes they would cascade up towards my abdomen before wandering back down and gripping onto my thighs in a way that I was sure would leave bruises or just red marks in general. The bass of the music flowed through my body as the lights danced over us, occasionally illuminating the nefarious things we were doing amongst the others unknowingly.
Someone eventually came up so that they were in front of me, now sandwiched between not one but two men but I didn't mind it. Especially not whenever I caught sight of the man in front of me. He was littered with tattoos, seemed to have black hair that turned different colours as the coloured lights bounced off of it. He looked like he was sculpted by the hands of greek gods himself if that was possible and out of everyone in the crowd he came up to me?
Whoever was behind me hitched the bottom of the red spaghetti strap dress up with one hand, the other coming around to ghost over the top of my red, lace panties that I had decided to wear for the night.
"Look at you, naughty girl. Just begging to be touched aren't you?" A voice sounded from behind me. It was dripping with pure molasses mixed with honey. Slow and deep. I could find myself getting lost if I allowed myself to do so. Instead, I gave a nod of my head but the man didn't move any further.
"I need a yes or a no. We don't do anything without the consent of the other party."
We? We don't? Then it dawned on me that the man sculpted by the hands of Aphrodite herself was his friend and it left my thighs clenching. There's no way the mystery guy behind me didn't feel that.
"Yes. Touch me. Don't back down now." I spoke up over the music, purposefully moving my hips back so that they rubbed over the forming bulge that I could feel in his slacks and he was by no means average or little. That only had my thighs clenching together even more as I brought my cup up to my lips to take a swig from it. Mystery, pretty boy in front of me stole it the second I got two drinks in, downing the rest of it as if it was easy to take down everything that was mixed.
