Slub

Through the mist and blinding flashes of light, she appeared in the most confident, immortal walk I have only imagined to be possible in a scripted scene, stopping short of my feet and tilting her head back at me. My chin received a hard grasp of her strong fingers, and my eyes shut instinctively as she pulled me in for a kiss, that momentarily took my manliness away.

Her tongue, she wasn’t shy to flaunt its maneuverability in my mouth, swiping across mine enough times to make me pull her closer for an airtight seal of our lips. We moistened lips, caressed bodies, right under the noses of envious onlookers. To think that I had gone to a club in Caterpillar’s Second Shift boots and t-shirt and jeans.

I must have looked like a construction worker, though Chinese with unproportionate shorter legs. In her off-shoulder, chest-hugging top, and a pair of tights, she seemed taller than me, until she tiptoed to lower my face for the comfort of our interlocking jaws.

When she finally pulled herself away, I regained my peripheral vision to the two guys who gave me very similar angry stares. I was so sure I would get my ass whopped, if not for her defense.

‘A MAN, NOT BOY!’

Her sunken voice tore through the heart-thumping music with that phrase, which quickly turned their faces into pure disappointment. I wanted to reiterate that I did feel like a boy when she kissed me.

Soon, the music changed to a sexier one, good for her to grind her hips on my groin. Not wanting to disrespect her, I held her away, and she backed right up. She bravely grabbed my wrists and slapped my hands on her butt, sliding them up and down enough times for me to feel – for the lack of any underwear.

(Into my ears) ‘ON ME! NOW!’

She dragged me through the moshing crowd by the wrist she held tightly on to, until we escaped the deafening dance floor into the sketchy, long, dark corridor that would end with a fire exit. In there, besides a few couples that were making out intensely, she began undoing my pants.

Eyes turned, ignorance feigned, distanced formed, my dick was out and hard in her delighted grasp.

‘Oh fuck.. ‘

‘What?’

‘Nothing.. ‘

She slammed her ass on my dong and wriggled her yoga pants down to her butt cheeks, all pumped up for me to slide it into where ‘I’ belong. She reached below her crotch and found my cock twitching in excitement, but I was wobbling from the whiskey. I took a few steps forward in her direction, and raised my hands fast enough to pin her against the brick wall.

A few seconds later, she had my tip at her door, embracing my slow invasion of her privacy. We were in a position such that either of us could move (our hips), and both of us would benefit.

She went first, on the initiation process that every grind would cover my cock from the top to the bottom, with her flesh-eating gap. Like really, all the way to the top where I would worry about ‘slipping out’.

Then, it was my turn, to use that wall as resistance and support, as I hammered her expressive characteristic with a cock that knew no limits, no shame, in wanting as much as it cannot handle. My mind just wouldn’t give up no matter how ‘hard’ my dick tried.

It was the alcohol. Yes, I am a cheap drunk.

On the other hand, she was raging. Raging crazy about wanting my meat so deep that she bounced herself off the wall so she would pin me on the other side (wall behind me). Everyone who wanted to take that emergency exit, knew better than to interrupt. They saw, and turned away.

I was left to the mercy of her non-belovent baby maker.

She rocked, she bumped, she rode, she slammed. She tightened, she quickened. My soul, had left, along with my conscious, for her to override the effects of my drunkenness with casual sex.

‘HEY! HEYYYYY!’

‘Now?’

‘YES!’

‘FUCK ME THEN!’

My right palm unconsciously went across her back and shoved her hard over, head almost knocking into the wall if not for her quick response to raise her hand. I squeezed her waist with ungodly strength, to the increasing pace of my hips piston-ing into her engine.

‘INSIDE?!’

‘YEAHHHHH!’

Three, two, one, blast off. I could literally feel a load dating back to the time of my birth, exploding into her in a mushy mix of lust. That huge load, emptied my mind in just five squirts. I couldn’t believe how abruptly that good time ended.

As for that sporting chick, she jolted upright and covered her bottoms in a flash, firstly trapping my seeds inside her, and letting those who failed to enter her temple to get soaked into her tights. The ‘wet’ and ‘dry’ areas could be seen clearly.

‘Phone?’

I passed her my blocky Android phone and she punched her number in, saving it as ‘slub’. I couldn’t process that word until she led me out of the club through the front, and took off in a different cab from me.

In my cum-cleared mind, my gentleman-liness only felt rightful after I dropped her a text.

‘Clut?’

‘Club-slut.’

She was either making it easy for me to recall our acquaintance, or admitting that she was that club’s slut who fucked as casually as we just did.

‘SOMEONE YOU FUCKED AT A CLUB! In case you forget.’, she hastily clarified.

‘A man’s clut then.’

That didn’t go down well with her, not until she corrected me.

‘Sorry. It’s My man’s*’

Just like that?

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