A busy Smokey gay club. It was so hot and opaque. You could see hints of the go-go dancers burning up our heads, eyes, and patience from their gigantic trunks underneath those quite revealing under wears!
I was enjoying the music, not paying attention to my ferocious need that was begging me to thrust my fangs into the hottest guy that my radar could catch. Kept on the watch until I spotted an extra hot hunk flanking beside me with a drink in his hand. It was one of the sexual catastrophe causers; a stripper with his clothes back on.
I waited for the right moment to come, so I can pin him down! Normally I don’t do the first move, but this one was an exception, I wanted to exchange venoms.
“The taste of your lips I’m on the ride, you’re toxic I’m slipping under…” Britney enchanted, and that was my cue, I gave him the eye with a gentle wink, surprisingly, he raised his turquoise drink, again another cue for me to take it to the next level.
By the second verse, we were grinding on the dance floor; literally ripping our lips off, it was vehement human nature in action. Our hands kept crawling and exploring non-stop. Eyes made contacts occasionally, giving us more vigor to go back to kissing and pressing against each other’s boiling bodies. We never touched our Misters down on South Avenue. However, mine got sick of crying for more patting; he rebelled and spat his crew in my new underwear!
Luckily, smokin’ hot dude didn’t notice that, until I told him the next day in bed!
Well, this was a little bit embarrassing more than sexy. But it’s fair enough to recall this panorama, a completely wet HOTNESS!
Still, Shamelessly Ali