It was a Friday night. Another night at the club with my good friends. I was wearing black jeans, a white undershirt that dipped low enough to show the top curves of my breasts, and a long-sleeved button up shirt, opened just enough so that my cleavage peeked out.
I swear, my tits could talk that night. I don't usually feel like I look hot, but I felt hot that night. It was like my tits were doing the talking for me!
"Hello, handsome..."
"Buy me a drink?"
"Sure, she's up there, but WE'RE down here..."
And they were certainly doing a great job of it.
About halfway through my second game of pool, and more than a dozen grizzly stares later, he came walking up, and placed his quarters on the table.
As luck would have it, I won the game I had been playing, so I stood waiting as he racked up the balls for our game. He approached me, a smile on his face, and extended his hand.
It wasn't the way his smile tilted off to one side, or the way his hand slid softly into mine, or even the way whatever manly scent it was that he had on went drifting up into my nasal cavity in slow, sensual waves that made my stomach ball up, then melt into a warm pool of need between my thighs...
No. It was his eyes. Deep green, and seeded with a passion I knew nothing about, those eyes drove into mine with an intensity that I could swear was visible to everyone in the room. This gaze was intended for me, however. His eyes never left mine as he introduced himself, and held my hand in his.
From the moment those emeralds locked with mine, every inch of my skin was instantly on full alert. It was as if every moment he looked at me, I lost a bit more of my insanity to whatever heat was building deep inside my belly. I could feel his eyes on me, even when I wasn't meeting them with my own. As I played the game, he was watching me, and I could feel his gaze moving over my curves just like a well-practiced hand would move. Slowly. Tenderly. Admirably caressing every inch.
Eventually, I won, and the game ended. He smiled and walked away, as I took on the next challenger. Even as I played, I couldn't get him out of my mind. I could still feel his gaze, but I couldn't see him anywhere.
It was at the bar that we met again. I was getting a water, and he approached from behind me. I could feel his eyes before I saw them, and smiled at him as I turned around.
"So, you come here often?" he asked. I giggled.
"Far too stereotypical a pick-up line for someone with eyes as classy as yours, Michael." He smiled at me, resting his hand on the small of my back as we walked together towards a small table. We sat and made small talk for what seemed like hours, those eyes never leaving mine. His eyes were so interactive. They laughed when he laughed, they smiled when he smiled, and they danced when we danced.
After hours of dancing and talking, we found ourselves sitting in the parking lot of the bar, on the tailgate of his truck, waiting on my friend to come outside, so I could go home. Under the pale lighting of the towering lamps overhead, I once again searched his eyes for an explanation of this burning need for him that was brewing inside me. But all I found was depth.
It was then that he kissed me.
His lips swept and danced across mine in slow, sensual movements that set every nerve in my body on fire. His hands on my cheeks, my neck, my breasts, they drew every muscle to an intense relaxation that was quickly followed by an enormous wave of heat and desire. I could feel his length pressing against my thigh, telling me that he, too, wanted what I had been unavoidably craving all night from him. He wanted this. This kiss, this moment. And so much more.
His hands fumbled at my jeans, unbuttoning them frantically as his kiss worked it's way slowly down my spine, tingling inch by inch towards where his hand was working to go. At the same moment that tingle found the apex of my thighs, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of my panties, and...
Those eyes met mine. Those deep green eyes, filled with passion and visibly burning arousal. For a brief moment, he caught my eye before his fingers met my, now throbbing, clit. Then his lips closed down on mine, and his finger slipped gently into my pussy. He slowly worked my body into a frenzy, his lips teasing my neck as his fingers found my g-spot. I gave up suppressing my moans, forgetting the people who could be walking by, and completely losing myself in the pleasure he was offering to me. Moments before I exploded, I met his gaze again, and read, in his eyes, exactly what he wanted from me.
No words were said, but I could hear him thinking it.
