By KBC Associate 
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The club was alive with energy, the thumping bass vibrating through my chest as I moved through the crowd. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and something wild, something magnetic. It was a Friday night, and everyone seemed to be letting go—dancing, drinking, laughing, and losing themselves in the pulse of the music.
I wasn’t looking for anything specific tonight, but sometimes, the best things happen when you’re not looking at all.
I felt a brush of movement beside me—someone pressed up against my side, just a little too close to be an accident. The heat of their body sent a shiver down my spine, and my pulse quickened. I glanced to my left, meeting the gaze of a man standing just a breath away.
He wasn’t my usual type, but something about him caught my attention—his dark eyes were intense, smoldering, as though he saw right through me, as if he knew exactly what I needed without a single word. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth, his lips curving into something that could’ve been a challenge, or an invitation.
“Dance?” His voice was low, but there was no hesitation. He wasn’t really asking, he was telling.
I didn’t even think about it. I nodded, and without another word, we moved to the middle of the dance floor, where the lights flashed in time with the beat, casting everything in shadows and bright bursts of colour. His body was close, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him. I didn’t know what it was about him—maybe it was the way he moved, or the confidence that poured off him—but my body responded to him instantly.
His hands found my hips, and I couldn’t suppress a shiver as he pulled me closer, my body fitting against his like it was meant to. We swayed together in the crowd, his touch firm, guiding me with a sort of raw intensity that made me ache for more.
I wasn’t sure if he could feel it, but there was a growing tension between us. A pressure, an anticipation, thickening in the space we shared. I could feel the warmth of his fingers sliding over my skin, and every brush of his hand sent waves of heat straight to my core.
The music was loud, but I could hear the quiet hum of desire between us. Every movement of his body against mine, every glance, every shift of his hand felt deliberate. Like he was testing the waters, pushing, pulling, but never quite going too far. Not yet, at least.
I tilted my head back slightly, meeting his gaze again. There was something predatory in his eyes, something dark, something hungry. And it sent a wave of desire rushing through me, hot and uncontrollable.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “You feel that?” he asked, his breath hot against my skin. “The way we move together. The way your body responds to mine.”
I couldn’t speak, not with the heat of his body pressed so intimately against mine. The only response I could give was to move my hips with his, letting him guide me in a slow, sensual dance that was anything but innocent. His hands slid lower, caressing the curve of my waist, and I felt his fingers linger, sending a shock of electricity through my body.
I knew what he wanted and, God, I wanted it, too.
Before I could stop myself, I was turning in his arms, my back to his chest, my hands sliding down his body, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He didn’t stop me. In fact, he welcomed it, his hands moving to the front of my body, pulling me closer, his lips brushing over the back of my neck in a way that made my skin tingle.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough, as if he was fighting to keep his own control.
I wasn’t sure where the words came from, but I said them anyway. “I want this. I want you.”
The words hung in the air between us, and something in his demeanor shifted. His grip on me tightened, and his hands slid lower once more, tracing the edge of my hips, slipping beneath the fabric of my short dress with a confidence that made my breath catch in my throat.
I didn’t stop him. I wanted it too badly.
His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and I felt a jolt of heat shoot through me. The sensation was almost too much, and I bit down on my lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. But I couldn’t control the way my body responded to him—the way his touch seemed to ignite every nerve, every inch of me.
“God, you feel amazing,” he murmured against my ear as his hand slid higher, his fingers teasing the edge of my underwear.
I shivered, every inch of my body craving his touch. He wasn’t rushing. There was no frantic urgency to his movements, just a steady, slow build, as though he was savouring every second. And in that moment, so was I.
When his fingers finally slipped beneath the fabric of my underwear, the contact was so electric, so incredibly intimate, that I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped my lips. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he was taking his time to learn every part of me.
He wasn’t just touching me—he was claiming me, in a way that was raw and real and impossible to ignore.
“Don’t hold back,” he urged, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that made my breath hitch.
I couldn’t stop myself. The pleasure was building, the heat pooling in my core, and I felt every nerve in my body light up. He moved with me, his touch firm and insistent, and I could feel the release building inside me, growing stronger with every passing second.
“Please,” I gasped, barely able to form the words. “Don’t stop.”
His fingers moved faster, the pressure building in the most delicious way, and I could feel myself teetering on the edge of something huge, something beyond words. The world around me seemed to fade away—there was no club, no crowd, no music. There was only him, only the way his fingers moved inside me, the way his touch made me forget everything else but the overwhelming need for release.
And then, just as I thought I couldn’t hold on any longer, the pleasure exploded inside me, hot and intense, crashing through me like a wave. I couldn’t stop the sounds that spilled from my mouth, couldn’t stop the way my body trembled in his arms as the orgasm washed over me in waves of pure ecstasy.
He held me as I came down from the high, his touch gentle now, almost soothing, as if he were grounding me, pulling me back from the edge.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with something deeper, something knowing.
I nodded, my chest still heaving with the aftershocks of the moment.