"Erotic Stories" The Sticky Dance Floor

Erotic Stories The Sticky Dance Floor
Damn, I hated the noise. No matter where you went, it was the same. Somehow, the deejays around the world must have all gone to the same identical music store. There, they learned to turn the volume up until it hurt and loudspeakers only produced distortion.

Even here at the bar, it was near impossible to hear the barmaid. She showed me four fingers, meaning four dollars for my beer. I wondered what sign she would make for five dollars and seventy-five cents? She was a beautiful woman with reddish hair and a little bit shorter than me. Maybe five foot six. Like most barmaids, she was dressed extra sexy, with a black skirt and a white blouse. That was surely done on purpose, maybe to get better tips from the guys. She was looking at me with a very sexy, provocative smile as an extra, just for me. You bet. I didn’t like being manipulated like that, but I gave her a five anyway. I knew she did that to all male customers, but it looked so personal. It’s like the lottery, where you know you’re not going to win, but you buy the ticket just in case. The chances of any other girl doing as much for me tonight were just about nil, in the best of scenarios.

I was the anonymous type of guy. The one all alone at the bar, except when being there with friends, but that was something else. As much as I dreamed of having a girlfriend all to myself, women were not returning the favor. I just wasn’t the guy to make heads turn as I went by. I was used to it. That is, as much as you can get used to these things.(Erotic Stories)

It looked like this would be another memorable, depressing evening. Memorable because I would think of all those gorgeous girls all around me. Depressing because that would be another night all alone, solitary within a crowd of hundreds of people.
Well, at least I’d use my time proactively. That meant drinking my beer, smiling, and enjoying all the women around me. Looking at their beautiful bodies was my favorite sport. I tried to picture their panties under their skirt, or imagine them undressing just for me.

I would exploit the memory of the most outrageous bodies I would see tonight to play with myself for the rest of the week. Without their knowledge or consent, I would dream of fucking those girls and otherwise using them, while jerking off. Just like I did since I was a teenager. I had fucked so many girls in my mind. That’s what all boys did anyway.

All the guys I’ve known fantasized about fucking all the beautiful girls they met. Well, some of them got to fuck for real, also. The lucky ones. Those who had the body, or the cash, to get a girl interested. I had neither.
So I started hunting around the place, with my eyes as my only weapon. There were so many great-looking babes around me; I already felt the small pressure of my cock, trying to find its way up my pants.

That is the problem with cocks; they always get themselves stuck somehow on the way up. Usually, there would be some cute babe around, not even aware of the effect she had on me. I’d have to find a way to either hide my erection or release it from the tangle of my pants or boxers. Sometimes, even a well-centered, upward-pointing dick would still be easy to spot for anyone looking for something there. Thinking about these things made me harder. It had been too long since I last jerked off. I’d have to do it tonight for sure.
My eyes went from one woman to the next, looking for the one I would “use” tonight for my hand job. That certainly changed my perspective. Instead of being an uninteresting nerd in this place, it made me the predator. No longer waiting for someone to be interested in me, I would decide all alone which of these woman would submit to all my desires. She wouldn’t get a choice because she wouldn’t be asked. No fear of rejection. I choose; she submits. I can say it cheered me up.

They were all beautiful but I had criteria. I’d think of two for a start. First, a brunette, or black hair would be even better. I never understood the guys-like-blonds-more stereotype. Dark hair is so fucking sexy! I hesitated between outfit and height as my second decisive factor. Of course, I could choose to have more than two constraints, but I didn’t want to become too fussy. Having to choose was very exciting in itself; I wasn’t used to having all the choices. Certainly not with women.

I finally made up my mind and selected the outfit as my second goal. I’d rather be with a short woman in a sexy skirt than a tall one in pants that was for sure. She’d have to be dressed sexy, but classy at the same time. Somewhere between the “I’m looking for a husband” look and the “I want to be fucked again tonight” look. Something more akin to the “You might take advantage of me for this one occasion only” look. Some classy-looking skirt, that’s what I needed.

I signaled the barmaid for another beer, and then looked at the women on the dance floor. Damn, I would have fucked just about any of them right now. But I had to respect my self-established criteria, and that tall blond with the heavenly breasts didn’t match them. I looked at her for a while anyway, until my new beer arrived. Then my attention switched to the beautiful barmaid instantly.

Still looking at me with that inciting smile, she bent to my left to pickup things on the bar. I had to stop looking at my wallet to concentrate on her blouse opening, and the small but beautiful breasts she was showing me nonchalantly. All women do that, when they have to know better. They don’t care I guess. It’s a way to say, “Look at what you could get if I wanted to, “but she won’t allow it of course.

If she had a bra it certainly didn’t show. I couldn’t see the nipples, but everything else was more than enough for me. That was all that was needed to put the final touch to my partial erection. It’s surprising to see all the thoughts and bodily reactions that can happen because of a two-second look under a woman’s shirt. She turned to me again and I pulled another five, with a grin. It would be something to fuck her right here on the bar, I dreamed for an instant.

Then I saw another young woman at a table to my left, at the border of the dance floor. While my problem was being alone, she seemed to have the opposite problem. She was surrounded by guys which she didn’t seem to know, or at least didn’t want to be with. The kind of well built guys who can afford to be careless with women. No wonder they were trying their luck with her, she had the most fucking perfect body that I had ever seen.

She must have been quite tall, looking at the long legs going down from her black skirt. She was maybe five foot ten, which is certainly above average. With the fashionable look of a model and the face of an angel, she managed to forego leaving the impression of being too prissy. She had that roguish smile, making it clear she was in control and she would do what she pleased.

For now, she was making it clear to those guys they were not about to take advantage of her in any way. One of them sat with her at the table and talked to her. Whatever he said, she answered by keeping her sophisticated stance and shaking her head left and right. The guy wouldn’t stop without pushing his luck a bit farther. He slowly extended his hand under the table and rested it on her left thigh.

Without even a flicker of her eyes, she kept smiling and moved the guy’s hand back on his own thigh, saying something to him. Then he put his hand back on her leg, only this time much higher. His friends were having a good laugh watching what was happening. I’m not sure she heard them anyway, with the outrageously loud music. Still sitting upright, she looked down and started talking again. Most probably advising him to move away because she had a serious look now.

Again, she tried to remove his hand but this time it didn’t work at all. He smiled at her. I was trying to decide what I should do. Maybe tell the doorman. I was certainly not about to resolve the issue myself, since this guy must have had hands twice as large as mine. Then an unmistakable sign of pain replaced his smile. I understood immediately when I saw the woman’s hand firmly holding the guy’s crotch. She was obviously not giving him the hand job he would have liked. His friends were still laughing, but at him now.
The overly attractive female then got off her seat and went directly to the dance floor, without looking back. There was more than a pair of eyes rolling in the direction of her sexy body while she walked past them. This woman was rocking the place. All about her impressed me, and I found myself wishing I had the guts to lay my hand on her thigh just once, like this other idiot. Feeling my cock regaining in hardness, I suddenly realized I had lost my erection while looking at the scene. That temporary plight would be resolved very soon though. This woman was so “fuckable” that she would give a hard-on to a paraplegic.

She started to dance to the beat of an old disco hit. I scrutinized her every move, looking at her small, but very palpable breasts. I imagined taking those into my hands and had to move my dick manually so it could continue its upward course.

Her moving waist got me to wander further into my thoughts. I imagined her waist moving like that to play with my hardened cock, as I got deeper into her perfectly tight fuck hole. It was so farfetched that it sounded implausible even in a dream. No matter, I was so aroused I decided to go jerk off in the men’s restroom right away, while the image of this ideal screwing partner was still fresh in my mind.

Going directly to the restroom from my place was just about impossible. There were so many people in this place, and more coming in by the minute as it usually happens this late, that I decided to make it through the dance floor.
What the heck, I would even make sure to pat her with my left hand in passing. The hand I would use to masturbate, of course.

As I got up, the music changed to a slow one. That didn’t change much of anything for me. I saw that it did for her though. The big strong guy had recovered from the trauma of his squeezed balls and was heading her way. It seemed this guy had the nerves to ask her for a dance; whatever it was, she declined. I was next to the girl now and it was quite a feeling to be as near as that. Progressing slowly in the crowd and not daring to look at her, I brushed my left hand on her bottom while moving ahead. I had barely advanced when I felt something gripping my belt. Uh, oh, she didn’t like that, I thought.

I turned around anticipating a frown from her, but she was smiling at me and looking surprised. Saying something I didn’t understand she started kissing me as if we had known each other forever. We must have been quite intimate in that other life, because she was French kissing me now! My heart skipped a beat or two as I tried to make sense of all this, abandoning my body to her will in the meantime. Her wet tongue was already hard at work as she closed her arms around my waist. I was helpless to do anything.

To me, it was pretty much like a top model was r****g me on the dance floor.
My eyes still closed, I felt her tongue release her tender grip as she transferred her left hand to behind my neck. Her mouth moved to my ear but she didn’t talk to me. Rather, she started licking my earlobe. I gasped.

She was obviously using me to give a lesson to the guy who was bothering her a moment before. He would learn to take his turn; learn that she decided what happened, when and with whom. He had indeed retreated and was looking at us fixedly. I was about to talk to her, but the intensity of her blue eyes looking into mine was all that was said. She continued to prod me, lowering her right hand on my bottom. I could bear it no more and pulled her to me as I returned her previous kiss; only with more sexual passion.

She did not resist my advances but instead pushed the game even further by massaging my back under my sweater, starting from my shoulders and going down as far as she could. Her fingers moved slowly, and for every inch she was going down, my hardening dick was making the opposite move. She must have felt the obvious bulge against her belly because she was pushing even more, even rubbing herself on me!

There were more and more couples on the dance floor and it was a good thing. The crowd would hide us a bit, because it was getting pretty hot now that I had slipped my right hand under her shirt. Moving my hand up ever so slowly, so she could stop me if she wished, I didn’t feel her bra. I pressed her against my chest to get a feel of her bosoms. I could feel the nakedness even through her shirt.

I wondered whether I could push my luck even further. She had started it and there was no stopping me now unless she made her limits clear. I looked around, waiting for a safe moment. Being thankful for the darkness of the place, I caressed her skin on my way up, until I felt her breast. Slowly but surely, a bit anxious, my hand familiarized itself with her feminine curves. At last, my fingers touched her nipple as I looked at her intently in the eyes, expecting a reprobative look, which never came.

Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as she savored the touch of my fingers. I played with her tit for a while, and then cupped my hand around the whole mound of flesh, squeezing gently. I was still savoring this moment when, unexpectedly, she took control again by unzipping my pants in one quick move. Damn, I was at once nervous. I had done these horny things a million times in my head, but this sex goddess was making me live through them!
We were mostly in a corner of the dance floor, but there were still people everywhere. Surely someone would notice what was going on, even in the dim light. The man she was avoiding when she got a hold of me didn’t miss a thing, that was for sure, because he remained fixed on us. I must have blushed, standing there with my zipper down.

The pressure was about to move yet another step higher. She looked at me with a provocative smile. Then, she did it. From inside my pants, I felt the fabric shift as something moved in. I would not have thought it possible, but my hardened penis got even harder, more swollen with expectation as my boxers were being unbuttoned. In one swift move, her whole hand closed on my shaft, and I groaned as a surge of pre-cum made it through to the tip of my swollen glans.

I was stunned as much by her beauty as by the whole situation. I had no previous experience with a woman and here I was, a stranger holding my hard rod under my pants, on a fucking dance floor. We even had one spectator fully aware of what was going on.

I didn’t know what to do but she did. She stared at the other guy as if to challenge him, and started stroking my dick. The closeness of our bodies helped conceal the outrageous event, but it was as risky as walking on the edge of a skysc****r. That’s how I felt anyway, although my male hormones soon took over and I began to accept the situation.

I closed my eyes again as pleasure overcame me. I imagined all that I would like to do if only I could.

I’d bring her down on her knees and have the perverted bitch take my cock out and suck on it while everybody looked at her in shock. Instead of moving my hips, I would push her head up and down my shaft. After screwing myself with her head, I’d turn her around and have her bend forward, using a table for support.

Everybody would see me lift her short skirt and pull her panties to expose her vulva. To make it clear to her who was in control now, I’d put my finger in her mouth for her to lick wet. I would then fill her hole with the damp finger for a while, before I came back to soak it again in her mouth and back to her cunt.

With everybody still looking—the men at this submissive woman’s body and the women at my own throbbing cock—I would set my glans on the lips of her sex. I would delight myself by looking fixedly at some random woman in the crowd, locking eyes with her while I pushed and f***ed my way inside this woman. That would feel pretty much like fucking the two of them at once!

Although I could only imagine these things, it was easy to blend reality and fiction with the feelings of the real hand now rubbing my cock. My ecstasy was shielding me from the fear of getting caught. She pushed her hand even farther inside my pants and between my legs, running her fingers on the extremely sensitive skin of my crotch. As she sc****d my balls delicately with her fingernails before she squeezed my pouch of skin, I made it all the way to heaven in a split second.

Taken off guard, I had been overwhelmed by her exquisite manipulations. I groaned as tension built nearly instantaneously, filling my veined dick with more bl**d and pressure than it could possibly take. I felt the inevitability of what was to follow. Barely dancing anymore, I tried to remain composed while a dense and voluminous batch of my sperm was ejected f***efully under my pants. I had jolts of intense pleasure with each and every one of the powerful spasms.

I felt her cum-drenched hand still yanking me when I became conscious that my dick had been pulled out of my pants. My unusually large load of cum had filled her hand, and was dripping on the floor as she squeezed my shaft for more. Her head on my shoulder and facing the other guy, she continued to play with my dick as it became less and less rigid. I would have stayed there for the rest of my life, but then she put my flaccid dick back where it belonged. There was sperm everywhere inside my pants and I felt soaked.
She gave me a quick kiss and a wink, then glanced at her tormentor one last time in defiance, and left.

Incredible as it was, the weirdest part of this story was its impact on my life. It had none, actually. A week later, I was back with my routine, searching bars for great-looking babes that I could imagine fucking in my mind while jerking off.

No other woman has ever touched my cock again under such circumstances. I still get a good laugh though, thinking of all those people wondering why the dance floor was so sticky, dancing on my load of cum.