Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I pull away and leave him behind, sashaying through the revellers until I get some wolf whistles off to the right. Two guys wanting a piece of me. These two are idiots, dancing with the kind of laid-back groove reserved for Z-listers, but I milk it for all it’s worth. Maybe they were on some reality TV show a decade ago and still think they’re in it to win it. I act like a girl who thinks they’re superstars, fawning as I dance along with them, one after the other.
One of them kisses me, and he’s like a wet fish with his tongue, but I don’t give a toss. I eat his face like I’m as keen as he is, running my hand down to the bulge in his pants to scope out his hard-on.
Hardly a donkey.
Again. Boring.
Boring, boring, boring.
The idiots protest when I leave them behind, but I carry on regardless, grooving my way into another crowd. This little cluster is hotter. A couple of the guys are tall and imposing. Some girls grip their boyfriends tighter, staking claim, but one of the tall guys is blatantly on the lookout for pussy. His eyes are on my tits from the off, and he knows he’s fit. I like that kind of confidence.
I dance closer, giving him the eye as I twist and twirl, and he’s straight on it. Coming in close.
This guy has more heat than the others. His moves are more mature. His stature more demanding.
His hands are firm, fingers harsh as they squeeze my ass.
I’d be happy to spread my legs and have him explore my juicy cunt right here on the dancefloor. I’d tug down my dress and set my tits free to let him slaver. But no. Not yet.
More kisses, but these aren’t sloppy – just fierce. He wraps a hand around the back of my neck to pull me close, and I figure that this could maybe be User 2906 getting me ready. I’d like that. But no.
“Want to leave, get a cab back to mine?” he asks. “I don’t live too far from here. We could… hang out.”
I keep up my flirting game.
“That depends…” I smile, my mouth close to his ear. “What would you want to do to me when we got there?”
“Nothing crazy. I’m no psycho, don’t worry.”
I laugh at that. “Shame.”
“Shame?”
“Yeah, shame. Girls like me like it filthy.”
He’s a decent looking guy. Tall and muscular, with a neat beard and dark eyes. He’s in a shirt that fits nicely, and looks like he’s packing a hulky dick in his pants.
“How filthy do you like it?” he asks.
“As filthy as it gets.”
His smirk is alright. Not an award winner. He’s confident, but not a super-ego.
“Shall I at least get you a drink first?”
“Sure. Prosecco, thanks. I’ll wait here.”
I’m lying. My eyes are already roving around for the next person of interest, but I don’t get all that long to mingle. Someone presses up against me from behind, and his hands on my waist put the last guy’s confidence to shame. He roves them up to grope my tits through my dress, and grinds his cock against my ass. I work him right back, spurring him on, and I get tingles when his breath lands on my neck.
I can only just hear his words above the music.
“Better get back to loverboy and his prosecco. He wants a piece.”
“He’s not going to fuck me hard enough.”
“He doesn’t know that. Be a good slut and appreciate his efforts.”
The stranger shoves me forwards, and he’s already blurred into the bodies on the dancefloor by the time I spin around. Damnit, I have no idea who that was, and the strobes don’t make it easy to track anyone. He’s long gone, no doubt eyeing me from a distance.
I do what I’m told, dancing back through the throng towards the guy returning from the bar. He has my drink in his hand, what a sweetie. I thank him and raise it in toast, my eyes locked on his like a siren. He’s my target. My minx trap. My job accessory. I want to get him so worked up he’s set to ravage me on the dancefloor, and make that plain. The watcher in the shadows is the one who matters.
“Come on, let’s stop playing coy,” I tell the guy I’m up against. “Show me what you can do, and we’ll see about getting that cab.”
I guide his hand down between my legs, and it’s clear the people around us are too engrossed in their own beat to notice. The lights and noise have ramped up, the club getting headier and heavier.
I’ve passed off this guy as a half-assed nobody too easily. He’s got more dirty substance than I banked on, and if circumstances were different, if he was the guy paying… but he’s not.