Only When No One Is Looing

Your thigh slides between hers like it's been there before. Like it belongs.

It doesn't.

It shouldn't.

The pulse of the music throbs around the two of you. In this unfamiliar nightclub, in a city neither of you live in.

The air is thick--humid with sweat, perfume, something close to desperation. Bodies pressed close. Lights low and pulsing red like a warning.

Seeing her today on the street, it felt like some sort of twist of fate. Some sort of nod from the universe that maybe this is something you both need to stop running from.

You feel her shift against you--slow, instinctive--and suddenly she's grinding. Even over the music, you hear her soft gasp. The inhale of air against your ear.

You haven't made eye contact since she pulled you out onto the floor and said something that sounded an awful lot like "your brother never dances like this with me."

Instinctively, you want to reach for her.

Gather her to you. Never let go.

But your hands stay at your sides. Because touching would make it real.

You watch her skirt ride up. Feel the heat of her cunt build against your thigh. No one can tell. Not in this half-lit room with too many bodies and not enough ventilation. But you feel everything.

You can't feel the mess of her through your jeans but you have to imagine she's wet, her arousal soaking through lace panties. Gleefully, you wonder if she'll leave a stain on the denim.

You could stop it. You should. She's not yours.

But everything about her reaction says otherwise.

"You can touch me," she whispers against the shell of your ear. The admission you needed, wanted, craved.

"Where?" Your question comes out choked--but she's already taking your hands, placing them on her waist.

"Anywhere you want," she replies, her arms wrapping around your neck, her breasts against your chest.

You slide one hand from her waist to grip the side of her thigh, to hold her against you while she ruts against you.

And this moment? It didn't come out of nowhere.

If you were both honest with yourselves, you know it's been years--Of stolen glances across dinner tables, of breathless pauses in too-small hallways. Of her mouth saying your name a bit too softly. Of your hand on her back a second too long.

Every laugh, every shared silence, the longing and yearning that went unspoken but not unknown.

But this? This was the quiet betrayal of every rule you had made for yourself since the first time she walked into your parents' house next to your brother almost two decades ago.

And yet you'd commit the sin over and over until time stopped. Until the universe was swallowed by a black hole. You don't even believe in sin but you'd believe in it now just to say you'd commit it if it meant you could have even a moment with her.

Just so you could feel the way her body feels against you. Feels in your hands. The way she smells familiar, and yet you've never been this close to her to inhale not only the scent of her perfume but of her, a scent so intoxicating you feel half drunk from it alone.

She gasps again, but this time it's mixed with a moan--and your cock, which had been solid and pressing against your jeans for a while now, pulses.

Throbbing at the idea that she might be close to climaxing. Throbbing even harder because she's using you to get herself off.

You pull her harder against you, and finally, she looks up--eyes wide as you finally make contact.

"Don't stop," you whisper, and her eyes flutter closed for a moment. "Don't you fucking stop. Use me, please. Use me to take what you need. I want to be the one to help you."

She nods, a final acknowledgement that this is happening. That you're giving her this.

She begins to rub herself against you faster. Harder. Like she's making up for every year you both pretended not to feel it.

God, what you wouldn't give to drop to your knees and press your face into her cunt. Let her grind herself to orgasm on your lips and tongue.

"I hope," she says, with stuttered words, her voice betraying how close she is to her release--"I hope that in all the other universes--" Her eyes flood and you feel her tense against you, feel the telltale pulse of her cunt clenching against your thigh.

Her hand comes to your face, your jaw in her grasp.

"I hope that you find me first."