Goddess Magazine Stories/Articles

Nothing Wrong with a Little Bump & Grind (June/July, 2011)

One of hottest guys ever seen walked into the hottest club in downtown L.A. that Friday night. The room of women and men swaying to the music froze, gawking toward the club entrance. My eyes scanned the room, seeing what the sudden change in atmosphere was, and stopped on him, an ethereal God, making his entrance into the spotlight. He was about 6'2, and muscular, with sandy brown hair, chiseled jawline and topping it off, big, irresistible green eyes.

I took note that some of the men were ogling as hard as the women; they must have wished to be him, as badly as the women wanted to be with him.

I sat across the club in a dark corner, a glass of Bacardi and Coke pressed to my lips, as I stalked him out with my eyes. He was dressed head to toe in Armani denim jeans, high- cut boots and fitted shirt, all black. He made his way across the dance floor toward my direction. In seconds, he stood over me.

“Wanna dance, beautiful?”

I looked up, giving him a once over before meeting his eyes and falling under a trance. He was down right walking, talking sex. I accepted his offer and stood, my eyes never leaving his as I placed my drink on the table near me. I didn't need to speak any words, my body language do all the talking for me.

He led me to the middle of the dance floor, blue, red and purple strobe lights reflecting off my silver sequin Gucci mini-dress. I could feel every staring eye giving me evil looks. Oh, well, bitches, tonight, he's mine.

We moved rhythmically, the music controlling our bodies as we pressed up against one another and started to grind to the pumping bass coming from the speakers. He was working up a sweat, and beads of moisture formed on his forehead. I seductively rand my hands through his hair, over his face and down toned his chest, and ran my finger under the waist of his jeans, ticking right above his pelvis. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me into him, grazing my lips roughly with his. I pushed him away and waved my finger at him, mouthing the word “no” and continued luring him into sensuous dance.

The DJ announced last call and he grabbed my hand, whisking me away to the exit. I still didn't talk, even when he announced I was leaving with him. We headed back to his place, speeding down the freeway in his cream white Boxster Spyder Porsche with the top down, music full blast. He laid his hand on my thigh, working his way up under my dress and my slightly buzzed head spun with dirty thoughts.

We pulled up to an Italian villa-style home with a perfectly manicured front lawn. I couldn't get all the details of its beauty straightened out in my head, as my Bacardi cocktails were blurring all train of thought. All I remember was the mad rush out of his car and into the front foyer of this house, our mouths mashed together, tongues doing their own dance and both our hands roaming all over each other.

He pulled my dress over my head, exposing my breasts to the cool air, making my nipples

swell in my bra. I loosened his belt and removed his before he lifted me up and carried me over to the fireplace, laying me onto the deep plush ivory carpet. He broke away to light a fire and brought over a huge black velvet blanket, as I waited, raging out of control with lust. He stood over me, studying my partially nude body as I laid there, and stripped down to his fitted gray boxer briefs showing a protruding bulge trying to peek out. He took his place on the side of me in front of the warm fire and pulled off my panties and bra as both of our hearts raced fast and loud. Finally, we ravaged each other, getting down to what we came here for.

He entered me and my back arched with his slow, long thrusts that sent every nerve-ending into a tingling frenzy. Within minutes, he sped up, and I knew he was ready. I remained silent as he let out an animalistic cry when we simultaneously came.

After our intense love making, he rolled over and wrapped an arm across me. “I love you babe.” He breathed into my ear when we were finished.

“I love you, too.” I replied, elated from our romp. We enfolded our bodies together and went to and drifted to sleep.

Having all the glitz and glam isn't always what its cracked up to be, and even the people who have everything get bored and need to spice things up. Money isn't everything and sometimes, the things important to you need to be revamped, and all the materialistic things need to pushed to the back burner.

And that, is my story to tell. This sexy man wasn't just any random hot guy that walked into the club that night, he was Jared, my husband, and we were playing our game, spicing things up, keeping our spark lit.