daydreaming
The club had wall-to-wall people, bodies oozing sweat and pheromones. The music fought valiantly with the sounds of life…old friendships being strengthened or broken, new friendships being made, sexual innuendos being sent and received, sent and rejected, sent and misunderstood…
I sat at the bar, being nursed by my favorite drink. Watching and absorbing that distinctive atmosphere that pervades every lesbian club I’ve ever been in. Waiting for something…someone…but prepared for the inevitable of the mundane.
All of a sudden, the crowd before me parted, as if by some royal decree…and SHE walked through. And the music faded in my mind.
But no…I could still hear the beat thumping in crescendo…no, it was the beating of my heart…the beating of the heart of me, clitorically speaking.
Every word ever used to describe the glory of woman was manifested in her carriage…her body…her every form of motion:
Grace…queen…goddess…sensual…divine.
Whether by chance, happenstance or fated machination, she sat down beside me. In my little corner of the bar. In my little corner of the world.
I caught the scent of her perfume eloquently proclaiming “Adore Me. Love Me. Make love to me. Take me. Want me. Desire me. Hold me. Claim me. Fuck Me.”
She was a continent awaiting discovery…a prized mare anticipating the mount.
And then…she smiled. At me. Of course I blushed. Of course I momentarily lost the power of speech, though my eyesight remained startlingly intact. Her smile was a nuclear explosion, leaving me wasted and weak. It was all the days of sunshine since the beginning of time come together as one.
And then…she spoke. Not to me; Ordering a drink. That voice…her voice. I could hear it echoing in my soul, speaking words of love, tracing erotic patterns on my skin, I could hear it crying out my name as I worshipped on my knees…between her legs.
And then…she turned to me and smiled again. She held out her hand and spoke her name…I mumbled mine. In a moment of panic, I realized that I had instantly forgotten that name. Caught up as I was in the softness of her skin; in the lingering touch and vibrations and delicious sensations evoked by her touch.
I was wet. I wanted. I lusted. I panted. I was wet.
And, I fear, her smile betrayed her knowledge of my need.
Just as I tried to string a few words together…any words, it didn’t matter as along as I stopped staring mutedly like a virgin at her first dildo…
She leaned closer and whispered in my ear:
“I’ve been watching you for a while too.”
At once elation, doubt, suspicion, and desire and hope began warring amongst themselves for the spoils of my heart.
She saw this. And she said:
“I want you too.”
Desire won. Hope was victorious. Suspicion fluttered briefly before disappearing.
‘Why me?” I asked her. Great. My first two words. But at least they made sense. I was used to adoring others…putting in some work to win their hearts and bodies, when they had mine from the start. This was a first for me.
“Why not you?” She countered. Good point. But I wasn’t about to let her off that easy, and my face must have shown it.
“You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen here tonight. I didn’t really come looking, but I’m glad I found you.” She leaned closer to me…so close that her breath touched my face in ways I imagined her hands would. “And you were just sitting there by yourself…not knowing how many of us have been staring at you, trying to catch your eye…hoping for a smile. Finally, I just gave up and came over. Because I want to cum over you. On you. With you.”
Once again, I felt the hammering in my clit. Felt the moistness that escaped me…and the amazement on my face.
She leaned even closer, until her breast rested heavily on my shoulder, swirling, grinding…images flooded my mind.
“I’ll see you….in your dreams”.
That’s what I get for reading Cameron Abbott's "To the Edge"
I suddenly want to write erotic fiction. Go figure.
Should I continue? Or is this a load of…you know. Doo-doo.
