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Song: Get Me Off by Basement Jaxx

Scenario: by Angelpie, posted 8.26.02

Baby Luv bends over to remove his shoes.  After all this time, that ass still takes my breath away.  The black twills he wears help matters along.  You know the ones, with a touch of Lycra, hugging him in all the right places.  Finally, he is on the right track with the shirts.  This one, pewter silk.  My hand brushes across his chest, sliding along the smoothness of the fabric.

He grasps my hand and raises it to his mouth.  He kisses my palm, then lets it drop.  I set my shoes next to his. 

“Hey, Bo and Joel are here tonight,” I say.  “They must be at Blowup Kingdom!” 

“They got a doll room here, too?” Apolo asks.

“No, not dolls. Blowup Kingdom — like those enclosed things that are all inflated.  You know full of girls with big breasts in slow motion,” I say. 

“Ooohhh. That sounds interesting!” Apolo says.

I smirk at the wheels spinning in my naughty boy’s head.  We are walking down the hall; we come upon a door covered in mirror tiles, like a disco ball.  As he looks for the doorknob tiny images of Baby Luv appear in the hundreds of tiny squares of reflective glass. Knob is found. We enter.   

 

*******

We are inside Lush.  The place is packed out.  Everything is all metals and woods. Cold meets warm.  Organic meets industry.  Mary Shelley would have partied here.

Apolo wades through the crowd to find us a booth.  That is the fun part.  No matter where we go, we can always get a booth.  I grab us some drinks and head across the room.  Apolo is sitting with a few of the cats hooked up with Motorbooty.  (Forget the “Anton” crap. “Schmoozing” is his middle name.)  I set the drinks down.

The booths are beautiful.  Huge wraparound high backs.  Diamond tuck upholstery, silver velvet.

Apolo drains his Coke and Vanilla Stoli and pushes me out onto the dance floor.  The boy definitely has some moves.  Damn, he is the best grinder I have been with.  This is getting a bit much.  I get close, lean in and pull on his bottom lip with my teeth, tugging gently.  I love how his soul patch scratches on my tongue.

I can’t hear what he is saying.  He yells into my ear, “Let’s take this back to the booth.” His hands on my hips as he pushes me through the crowd.

Thanks to the discreet little “reserved” sign, our booth is empty.  We slide into the booth.  My skirt riding up over my thighs.  Under the table, his hand runs up and down my leg in time to the music.   He stops.  He slides his hand between my thighs.  Searching, feeling, finding the dampness.  The warmth of his hand swallowed up by the heat of me.

The waitress drops off another round of drinks.  Apolo brings his hand back above the table.  He gulps his drink like water.  Passing the empty glass over his forehead.

“It’s so fucking hot in here.” 

“Well baby, you put on quite a show, on the dance floor,” I say as I run my finger across his forehead causing the beads of sweat to trickle down his temples. 

Wanna undress you. Wanna caress you. Don’t wanna be coy. It’s time to get me off.

I lick the salty liquid from my finger.  I scoot closer and begin to kiss my way up his neck.  I start in the hollow of his throat.  Inhaling him.  Flooding my senses.  Softly biting the skin of his yielding throat, inching my way closer.  Finally arriving at his velvety lips.  I look at him.  His head tilted back.  His eyes closed.  I suck harder at his mouth.  Enjoying the sound of the suction. 

My hand moves up the side of his face.  My finger stops at his temple, where I feel the pulse of his heart.

I pull my skirt up higher.

His hands skillfully and willfully place me onto his lap.  My knees crouched up under his arms. 

He unbuttons my shirt.  One, two, three buttons.  He buries his face in my breasts, biting, licking my bare skin above my shelf bra.  He raises his head and I meet him with a slow, lazy kiss.  I move gently against him.  The roughness of his pants against the silk of my panties.  The kissing becoming more urgent, harder.  I lift myself, as he slides the thin fabric past my ass.  With one abrupt motion, he tears the fabric, leaving my panties hanging off of one leg.  I look into his eyes and laugh. 

“Baby Luv, those were La Perla.  You are definitely going to replace.” 

He chuckles and silences me with a hard kiss, his tongue battering the roof of my mouth.

I undo his zipper.  Rubbing my hand and up and down the length of him, through the thin cotton fabric.  He twitches in my hand. A soft moan escapes from his mouth.  I rub harder.

“I want in. Now,” he barks into my ear. 

I lower myself onto him.  Slow, taunting.  Making him wait.  He places his hands on the curve of my hips and pushes down hard as he rises up to meet me.  Thrusting all the way to my heart.  We move in time to the bass line.  He pumps harder.  I slam back into him with all my force, my back hitting the edge of the table.

The glasses clanking together, moving closer, closer to the edge. Apolo grabs the table for more leverage.  His ass rising off the seat of the booth. The angle changes.  I feel him move deeper.  Hitting spots I never knew existed.

“Oh my God, baby,” I whisper hoarsely into his ear as I feel myself tightening around him. 

Swirling in circle upon circle upon circle.  Spiraling down.  He pushes harder into me. His thighs slamming upwards onto my ass.  His face caught in the grimace of abandoned control.

His mouth opens slightly; letting the words, “Ahhhhh … I’m so fucked,” crawl out and lay there on the edge of his tongue.

Panting…composing…complacent.

I stroke up and down his face then rest my face at the curve where his shoulder meets his neck. Gentle kiss here. His arms wrapping around my waist, holding me with affection.

“Hey, dance with me,” he says as he slowly lifts me and redresses.

I smile and kiss his cheek as I readjust my skirt and tuck my hair back behind my ear.

He takes a hold of my hand as he scoots out of the booth. I follow walking along the velvety seat with my knees.

The strobe lights are moving in furious action as he leads me out to a spot in the middle of the floor. The music is pumping, but we are slow. We are in the trace of each other. His hands reach around me, one resting on the top of my ass the other finding the curve of my lower back. My hands smooth over his shirt and relax on his shoulders. We sway, hips in unison. Falling into the black of each other’s eyes, we leave the mortal coil behind.

Give your body to me. Give your body to me. Let your body be free. Free your body. Your body with me.

 

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