~ erotica ~
The concert was loud. And crowded. And because of a series of annoying laws recently passed I had to take my nicotine addiction outside into the cold wet evening.
The band was bland, the beer flat and just barely not warm, and the food was sold out, though I would not have expected much from the small kitchen in the first place.
I leaned against the brick wall, staring up into the cloudy night sky, enjoying my cigarette, even in the damp chill air.
And then she stepped outside. Fishnets. High heels. Tight short skirt. Tank top, sequined, showing just-barely-not-too-much cleavage. A black leather jacket. Ruby red lipstick. Hair pulled back off her face.
She looked over at me, leaning up against my wall, enjoying my fag, and gave me a smile. She stepped over, came in close, and whispered in my ear, “Can I get a light?”
In her lips she placed a clove cigarette retrieved from her jacket pocket. I enjoyed the way holding the cigarette accentuated her lips just that much more. I pulled out my Zippo, with one snap popped it open, and the second lighting the flame. Leaning into the small heat source, she took a few good puffs before standing up straight again, but still standing very close to me.
I could feel the vibration of the music inside through the wall I still leaned on. But I could also hear the pitter patter of the occasional rain drop that landed next to us.
With each of her inhales, she let the smoke settle deep into her chest, and then tiled her head back and blew up towards the dreary sky. I enjoyed the line of her neck, the routine of her closing her eyes, feeling the slight high, and then releasing it into the air.
When about half her cigarette was finished, I realized I hadn’t spoken a word to her, and that she hadn’t care. The smile was still on her face, and she still looked at me with eyes that were asking for more than a light.
Finished with my smoke, I flicked my butt away and stood up tall for only a moment before pivoting and leaning into her, my arm against the brick wall, my lips by her ear.
“I live a five minute walk away, and I want to do more than light your cigarette tonight. I want to taste the skin on your neck, wrap my lips around your nipples, and enjoy your sweetness as I eat your pussy til you cum. I want your hands in my hair pushing my face into your cunt. I want to hear you scream from ecstasy as I make your body shiver and shake. Now, do you want to go back inside, or do you want to follow me home?”
For good measure, I nibbled her ear just a little before I stood up tall and took her back to my place.
She screamed. She cursed. She rode my face, pulling my hair, pushing my mouth into her cunt. She came, and came, the sweet music of her ecstasy more melodious than the band both of us had ditched for our fun.
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