Dancing

I love dancing. It can be tasteful yet sexy. It can also be tasteless, but not with me. I try to be secretly sensual with a guy on the dance floor. Sure having a guy grind against your ass isn’t exactly modest, but it could be showier than just that. I’m generally picky about who I let dance with me. When I am grinding with a guy behind me, I make it a game to try and get the guy’s dick hard. Let’s face it, I love boners. I tend to sneak a hand back and rub the guy’s crotch as well. One time a guy left me after I got him horny because he feared a piercing *down there* became loose. Not sure exactly how that happens, but yikes! Didn’t see him the for the rest of that evening.

Anyways, I enjoy rubbing up on a nice thick, hard cock. One time I convinced a guy to corner me in a club, stick his hand down my shirt, and pinch my nipples several times as we kissed with our tongues. That pleasurable, exhibitionist thrill was short-lived because he didn’t stop drinking and got escorted out of the club because of his visible drunkenness. He did want to take me home, but I politely refused. I’m not the type to go home with a bar yuppie. (I just like using the word “yuppie.” hehe)

Another time I was dancing with a bunch of girlies, as usual, and a guy sitting on a stool was enjoying his show. He drew me closer until I was grinding on his lap. He must have wanted more from this tease because he snuck his hand underneath my dress, pushed aside my panties and slipped a finger in between my moist lips. I gasped aloud and suddenly wanted more. I craved his finger. Didn’t want him to stop. We moved to sit at a table and he fingered me underneath it. Delicious. He in fact also wanted to take me home and I politely, emphatically refused. xoxo