Coffee and Cream

The Night At The Club

EMRYS

I remember the night I saw her at the club, she had come alone and she was drinking alone. I had seen her in some of my classes but I had never really seen her in this sort of settling. Her eyes were searching, she had a look of longing lingering in every glance. Her hand found the back of her neck a few times as she bit her lip.

The club lights flickered in time with the deep bass that pulsed through the air, my focus remained locked on her. She was completely unaware of the attention she commanded. The crowd around her faded into the background, a blur of movement and sound that couldn't compete with the view she was.

Her dress, a flowing, ethereal piece that clung to her curves, shimmered in the low lights. The soft gray fabric draped down her body, parting daringly at her sides with every subtle move of her hips as she leaned against the counter. It was like the dress was barely there, teasing a suggestion of elegance and wildness all at once. The deep plunge in the front revealed a sliver of her smooth chocolate skin, and I could just make out the glint of a pendant resting against her chest, catching the light in fleeting flashes.

She raised her glass to her lips, slow, deliberate, like the moment was choreographed. Theglow from behind the bar lit her just enough for me to see her expression—calm, relaxed, like she owned every second of this night. The way the drink lingered at her lips for just a second too long told me she knew exactly how to command a room, without even trying.

I could feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck, an unmistakable mix of admiration and desire bubbling as I watched her. She didn't notice me—or maybe she did, but was playing coy. Her eyes scanned the room, casually, she stared like she knew none of them mattered.

Her eyes flicked in my direction, it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through me. She looked like she was challenging me. It was just here, the drink in her hand, and that damn dress.

I had to go over there.

*******

I discreetly led Darcelle out of the busy nightclub and into a lavish hotel. We went into a room I booked, secluded and specifically designed for sexual exploration. I paid for the private sex dungeon to ensure there wasn't interruption by any of our peers. I didn't want to be recognized especially since my girlfriend and I's relationship was very public and a model example for some.

As we entered the dimly lit red room, I could see the excitement in Darcelle's eyes, mixed with a hint of fear.

"I've not done this before..." she said meekly.

"What? Kink?" I asked.

She shook her head, "Sex... I haven't had sex before."

"Oh..." I had responded, not sure why she had come along with me. I wondered if she planned on coming to destroy me with kisses?

"But, I want to have sex. That was actually why I went to the club. I want to lose it tonight." she had said as if reading my mind.

She had a striking exotic face, her chocolate-brown skin glowed, her figure petite with a curvy hourglass shape that I couldn't wait to get my hands on. Her lips were pouty and she had high cheekbones and a defined nose. She was such a beauty.

I didn't want to fuck a virgin, but I couldn't let this gem slip through my fingers.

"Pick a safe word." I said ready to mold her into my image.

Hesitantly, she chose, "raven."

Her response piqued my interest but I pushed aside the thought because all I needed right now was her underneath me.