The next song will be “I Want You to Want Me,” I thought, taking another sip of my drink
The music was always the same. Same play list in the same order, week after week. It wasn’t the music that kept me coming back again and again, though. It was a friend of the band’s lead singer. I didn’t care what the band was playing — I barely listened. I’d sit and try not to be too obvious as I watched him watch the band. He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. He made me indulge in dirty daydreams and inspired me to dress in my sexiest short skirts and come to the club every time the band performed just for the chance to see him.
“I need you to need me,” the singer belted out the lyrics. I closed my eyes and imagined my fantasy man’s hands on me. Right then and there I made a decision: I was going to fuck him. Tonight was the night that my fantasy about him would become a reality.
I went up to the bar and ordered another drink — I’d need a good dose of liquid courage in order to approach him. I took a few deep sips of my vodka & cranberry and then I got an idea. I would write him a note. A note would allow me to deliver a message to him without actually having to say anything. It would be less intimidating to write him a note. But what should I write? I had to choose the perfect words that would convey something flirty, provocative and to the point. It should be something that would get him thinking about me the way that I’d been thinking about him.
I’ve had many fantasies about the two of us together, but my favorite one involved a tryst in the ladies’ room. He sees me dancing and becomes entranced by my sleek, sexy moves. He comes out onto the dance floor and heads straight toward me. Our eyes meet and neither one of us speaks. I smile wickedly and give him a sassy wink. He steers me into the ladies’ room , and as soon as we are inside, his hands immediately begin pulling up my skirt. I pull his head down to mine and kiss his full lips. He strokes me between the legs and whispers, “You feel ready.” I imagine that he lifts me onto the sink and pulls my skirt up to my waist. I quickly unbuckle his belt and let out a small gasp when I see the size of his cock. He grabs a hold of my ass and begins to thrust. As I arch my back, I groan with pleasure and hear…
“I want to do it ’till the sun comes up, I want to do it ’till I can’t get enough.” The music brings me back from my daydream. I’m still at the bar, sipping my drink. The second set always begins with “Boogie Shoes.” Still thinking about the note I want to write, I ask the bartender for a cocktail napkin and, after a moment’s pause, I write my short note. I fold the napkin in half and head across the bar. I’m all too soon directly in front of his table — and directly in front of him. I suddenly realize that this is the closest that I’ve ever been to him, and I almost lose my nerve. I take a deep breath, and then I hand him the napkin as the crowd behind me breaks out in enthusiastic applause. He looks at it, looks at me and takes a pen from his pocket. He writes something on the napkin and hands it back to me. Trembling, I take it and make a beeline back to the bar. Whether I’ll be celebrating or drowning my sorrows, I will damn well need another drink.
My shot at my fantasy man all comes down to this — a message written on a cocktail napkin, “After the show, my place, breakfast?” I unfold the note and order another drink. He has responded with two words: “I’ll cook.”
I feel my nipples growing hard and the heat rising to my cheeks. It won’t be long now, I think.
I slide off my barstool and head for the ladies’ room to freshen up before I meet him after the show. As I reach into my purse for my compact, I feel two muscular arms encircle my waist. My first instinct is to panic, but when I look in the mirror, I see his sexy eyes staring back at me. “I liked your note,” he says. “I’ve seen you at these shows before and I’ve been wondering which one of the band members you were interested in.
I must say I’m surprised and very flattered that it’s me.”
I turn around slowly and face him. Our lips meet in a salty kiss. His tongue slides between my teeth and I playfully nip at his lower lip. It’s a deep kiss and I can taste the beer he’s been drinking mixed with a little bit of sweat. “You’re good at this,” he says. I hope I get even better at it, I think. I run my fingers through his thick, dark hair and wiggle my tongue a bit deeper into his mouth. I want to lick every inch of him and mark his body as my territory. I can feel his obvious excitement against my thigh. His hands move greedily to my breasts and he wastes no time stripping off my blouse. As he reaches behind me to unhook my bra, he whispers in my ear, “I couldn’t wait until after the show — I have to have you right now.”
As he cups my breasts in his hands, he mutters his appreciation of their shape and my beauty. He begins to lick and suck my nipples, pinching each one gently between his fingers. He twists them lightly and the pleasure mixed with pain drives me so wild that my cunt begins to throb. He is making me so hot that, for a split second, I think about turning on the cold water faucet behind me, but instead, I rub my hands over his stomach. His own hands start to travel south.
His hands reach the bottom of my skirt and then move back up again, venturing along my thighs on their way to the border of my pleasure zone. Unzipping his pants, he exposes the most beautiful cock that I have ever seen. It’s so smooth and thick, and the head glistens so beautifully, that I can’t resist putting it in my mouth. I run my tongue up and down his long shaft, from the base to the tip, licking him like the sweetest candy. I play with his head for a little while, kissing and blowing on it before swallowing him whole again. His obvious pleasure is a most powerful aphrodisiac.
He helps me to my feet, and, in one smooth movement, lifts me onto the sink. I am living my fantasy. Living it and loving it. He pushes my lace panties to one side and slips a finger into my very moist pussy. “Fuck me,” I whisper. “Fuck me right now.” He chuckles and teases the insides of my thighs, my clit and my ass. He pushes another finger into my wet hole. The pleasure that he is giving me is almost too much to handle.
“I just want to make sure you’re ready,” he says, as he rubs his free hand over my clit. His touch is electric and chills run down the length of my spine.
“Fuck me!” I beg. This torture had gone on long enough — waiting for the grand finale was killing me. I need to feel him inside of me, and soon. Finally, he removes his fingers and pushes his pulsing member into me, moving in and out very quickly. He holds my hips and rocks back and forth, thrusting deeper and deeper inside of me. “You’re so sexy,” he says. “I’ve watched you dance, and I love the way you move your body. Move that way for me now.”
I brace my legs against the wall behind him and hold on to the back of the sink. I lift myself up a little bit and move my hips for him in slow, rhythmic circles. I arch my back and push against him as hard as I can. I’ve never been fucked like this before. I let my head fall back and he runs his tongue down the side of my neck, sucking playfully on my shoulder. “You’ve got a fabulous body,” he muses. “I’d love to spend the whole night in bed with you.”
“I love the way you feel inside of me,” I breathe, “and the way you’re fucking me.” I know that I’m about to come, so I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him even closer to me. I buck forward fiercely and feel a shudder pulsate through my body. A second later, he follows my lead and explodes.
Smiling impishly, he helps me down from the sink and kisses me again. He says softly, “I’m really going to enjoy making breakfast for you.”
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