Fiction - NiN

We're both surprised that the room isn't very large. Like a small theatre, kinda.

It's an odd-shaped room, with numerous black fixtures jutting out from the the dirty white walls; An number of round floor-to-ceiling pillars, and a small black bar, help create an awkward atmosphere. This isn't our scene. We're the "sit at the bar, and chat with friends" kinda people. Not this. It doesn't help that we think people are staring at us. And jesus, do the people look strange.

You're all decked out in black, small hints of goth-like makeup (because you know it turns me on) applied under your eyes and to your lips. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off your leather-clad ass. I don't know if it's the way you intenionally sway your hips, the two shots we've knocked back, or just the way your perfume smelled on the way here, but I can't seem to keep my hands off you.

You don't mind.

The opening act thankfully finishes, and the set-up for NiN is done quickly. We plow through another set of drinks, just as Trent and the boys get on stage to thunderous applause. From underneath the balcony, we can see them fairly well. Through the mess of drugged-out, goth-looking men and women and the fog machine, we catch occasional glimpses of the band. The first song is something off their new album, nothing special.

The second song, though... Ah, that sounds like something we know, doesn't it? As the familiar music takes off, I close my eyes, and just let the bass ride over me. The words pour out of his mouth like the best kind-of sins; It's all about the things people want to do to themselves, and to each other. I open my eyes and turn to you.

I need to touch you.

I grab you by the arm, and pull you backwards against the wall. The room is full of crevices and holes where two people can hide if they want. Add in the drugged-out concertgoers, and heavy fog, noone can see us.

And I wouldn't care if they could.

As my hand slides over your stomach, I lean down to kiss your neck. Your body shifts backwards, ass pressing into my crotch. Between the alcohol, the music, and the setting, it's as if noone else is there. My fingers move under your shirt, rubbing your stomach slowly. Your body stiffens, as you decide whether or not to let me continue with my molestation of your body. When you feel my fingers gently graze your bra, you attempt to put the brakes on.

"Stop." You hiss.

"They're all drunk, high, or both. Noone can see us in the shadows." I argue convincingly. I think, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't let me get away with it, but the alcohol is already having it's effect on you. Not to mention the way the band plays. It as if they use their instruments just to encourage decadence. They stand up there, soaking in the admiration, and reciprocate by pouring lust into the crowds like it was water. Through the rhythms and sounds and words, you and I grind against each other wantingly.

So when my hand grabs your breast and squeezes, you give in. Intoxicated by the alcohol, lost in the music, or just caught up in the moment... it doesn't really matter. Our bodies begin a slow, rhythmic dance, as my fingers press into your bra-covered tit. You press backwards, ass rubbing into me, as your head tilts back onto my shoulder. Your fingers grab my forearm and stroke it gently, while my hand squeezes and twists your breast. My head tilts downward so my mouth can press against your neck. I nibble slightly, as you let out a small sigh.

The music pauses, then continues into another familiar song. Your body tenses, as people wander by. They either can't see us, or are too fucked-up to care. Excellent. My other hand slides under your shirt and unclasps your bra. I chuckle into your neck, as my fingers find your semi-naked breasts. I drag my nails over them slowly, while your back arches. Your bra hangs off your frame as I tug it off you, and stuff it into my back pocket.

My fingers return to your shirt-covered breasts, where I find hard nipples. My mouth sucks on your ear, as my fingers firmly twist those hard points; I raise my hand and pull on your breasts, lifting away from your chest. Even with the roaring music, I hear you gasp as a slight twinge of pain meets abject pleasure. My fingers twist the other way, and your body favorably responds by running your nails over my forearm.

My right hand glides down over your stomach and waist where they find your shiny slick pants. My fingers press downwards, rubbing the fabric against you. My fingers move up and down, while my mouth leaves a trail of small bite-marks on you rneck.

Your hand reaches up and grazes my cheek, as you feel the button and zipper on your pants release. I grab your underwear, and pull upwards sharply. You gasp again, body clenching. I push the fabric down slightly, leather pants still clinging to your body. I pull up again quickly, letting the fabric rub against your flesh.

I release the fabric, then push your pants down past your hips. My fingers slide underneath your underwear, and find a surprise.

You're wet.

Mmmm.

My fingers move up and down slowly, teasing your flesh. Under your shirt, my hands alternates between your breasts, teasing flesh, and playing with nipples. My mouth slides up and down your neck, as I find your small spot in-between your legs, and press my finger against it.

It's like flipping a switch, the way your body responds. Once I begin touching you "right there" your body shifts into over drive. Your ass, already grinding against me, pushes back almost violently, as the blood races through your body. I look up briefly, and see nothing but shadows and fog, as the music increases in tempo and intensity. My finger moves up and down, matching the speed of the music; Your body begins to writhe, slight moans escaping from your mouth.

I push down harder, as my lust begins to drive me crazy.

I whisper things in your ear. Things that I want to do to you. Places where I want to touch you. And not just with my fingers. Your body continues it's assault on mine, as you push back hard against me, small moans piercing through the din of crazy fuck-music.

Your hips start to buck, which they do when you get excited. I wrap my arms across your torso, fingers still rubbing up and down, as I feel your body begin to heat it's way towards explosion. We're both lost, as our bodies take over. Wanton need meets craven lust.

You're so close, I can feel you trembling. My hand digs deep into your breasts now. You love it rough, just like me. It's that deep-down, dirty need for release that drives us at times like this.

My finger moves faster, as your body nears eruption. You can feel my poking out of my pants from behind.

"I can't wait to fuck you," My voice whispers hoarsely into your ear. Your jaw drops, and your body sinfully explodes. I can feel the waves riding over you, as you twist in my arms. You ride the high, as you fight the need to curl your toes. You continue twisting back and forth, as you start to come down. I slow my fingers on both your breasts, and in-between your legs, and pull your underwaer back up; your pants follow suit, as I start to put you back together.

You turn around, and attach your mouth to mine. Tongues and lips mash together, as we enjoy a brief respite from the lust. We break away from the kiss and I look down, smiling as I see the heat in your eyes.

"I can't.. believe..." You pant, "We just did that."

I chuckle.

"Want more?" I grin.

Your eyes light up.

"Mm hmm." You reply.