Dark Blades . . . music . . .
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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