Mia and I first started to get to know each other in the internet community for multiracial people. I'm Latino, Native American, and Scottish/English/Irish/Dutch, and she's got Native, African-American, European, and Latin blood running through her veins. We post about a lot of things, but the Adult forum is where we seemed to really connect. MamaMia is her username… damn right, mami chula is more like it! That picture of her she sent me, lying on the bed, long hair in braids, the curve of her hip…seductive look, and other pictures with that beautiful smile, wonderful personality, and self confidence made her a favorite in most men (and women) on the boards. Slim, but curvy in all the right places. A cultural blend…a cultural mecca
She moves like liquid flowing in 3 dimensions, flowing to the beat, eyes closed. Skin-tight top, cut high to expose her slender toned midriff. Low ride jeans, with the straps of her dental floss thong exposed. Hands outstretched, fingers interlocked, raised high, hips swingin' side to side. I slide through the crowd, slipping between bodies to roll up on her. She wines around, back to me. I come to ride behind her, right up on her. Not touching, but close enough that we can feel each other's presence. She glances back over her shoulder. Our eyes lock, and hers narrow into a sultry look, completed with a slight smile indicating recognition.
Eyes close again, head turns back to the front, and I feel her press that perfect hourglass ass back against my thighs. She sways from side to side, leaning forward, bending at the waist, back arched, which only serves to emphasize why J Lo would be jealous. I slide an index finger from each hand down her back from her neck, across the second skin top, down her exposed spine covered with a slight sheen of perspiration from the efforts of her movement to the beat. I reach the string of her thong, just inches from where her buttocks separate. My fingers split and take different directions, following the strings of her thong from her back to her sides. Her shoulders come up as my hands circle her bare waist, resting on the tops of her hips. As they rotate, mine mimic hers, maintaining contact throughout, and she presses back further, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.
I glance down, noticing her mouth is slightly open, and I imagine what the sighs she is emitting would sound like, were the DJ to silence the sounds she spins. Her hands drop down to her sides to join mine, our fingers interlocking. As I rest the side of my head against hers, my gaze is drawn downward as her hands pull mine around her waist and across her smooth stomach. Yet, I cannot see them, as the mounds of her perfect breasts obscure our hands from view. The rounded curve of her top cuts low, exposing her cleavage, complete with drops of perspiration gleaming like diamonds. Two small bumps push through under the lycra top, nipples tingling and hardened not from cold but arousal.
