the life and musings of a kinky slut

Spank Bank 1.2: Anticipation

~ erotica ~

It was so quick. I was touching his tattoo, purposely not looking into his eyes. We were talking. I was nervous but trying to not show it. And then I was against him.

He didn’t kiss me at first. He took a breath, looked into my eyes, and gave me a moment. His gaze asked for my permission, and I consented.

He opted for the breathless all-in telenovela style kiss. His hands tangled in my hair; mine swam in his mane. Hot breath and saliva bathed us both. Our tongues lapped one another. I tasted the residue of his half drank rum & coke.

One of his hands disentangled from my locks and splayed against my lower back, pulling my pelvis towards his. I rocked my hips forward, grinding against his thigh.

I wrenched myself from his lips and pressed my cheek against his to catch my breath. In that moment, I asked the question on my mind for the past ten minutes.

“Alley or my car?”

He pulled his cheek away and cupped my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. He flashed a sly grin.

“You forget. I know the band. Green room.”

He took my hand and led me against the side wall through the crowd to the back.

The music was loud, the lights flashed, and the concert goers danced and jubilantly sang . All eyes, save mine, were on the stage. I could only look at him.

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