Second person one shot. A lil explicit. Enjoy, folks.

I watched you cross the room, the dim lights flickering over your body as you moved. You leaned on the bar counter, weight casually shifted to one side, and ordered a drink. Drums sticks clicked, and the band playing at the sleazy little bar played thick heavy honey sounds. Dark hair swayed slightly when you turned, and your shadowed eyes swept past me. I watched the muscles in your jaw twitch as you clenched your teeth.

So you do remember me.

A friend of a friend. A little flirting. This was all that connected us, a thin strand of acquaintance. Yet I remembered you, the way your eyes lit up, the lithe way you moved. And apparently you remembered me. The nervous twitch in your jaw, and flickering glances… all proof of my speculation. Oh, yes, we remembered. But I don't remember wanting you, thirsting for you, hungering for you.

The warm liquid in my belly made my bold, and I slipped through the crowd to you. Your fingers clenched slightly when you saw I was gone. You scanned the thin crowd and pretended not to jump when I slid up next to you. I looked at you, feline eyes glowing. You did not say a word, but watched me as I wrapped my fingers around your glass and took a long drink. A corner of your mouth turned up in amusement, but your eyes grinned. You took the glass from my hand and drained it. The clink of the glass still echoed as you fingered the ends of my hair. I felt light and warm and my eyes slid shut as a purple haze wrapped around my mind, tingling and dancing and full of dark promises…

The next part was a blur, sharp sensations and vague surroundings blended, leaking into each other. A hall. A door. Brick walls. Mad, passionate kisses, lips and hands and tongues wrapped in one. The pungent feel of every fingertip stands in sharp relief to the muddiness of the rest of my memory. Lips collided and tongues clashed. I raked my hands across your chest, fingers exploring hills and valleys. Your hands were everywhere, touching, squeezing, cupping, teasing… My body writhed and wriggled under your touch. A hand snaked under my clothes, running up and down my side from thigh to ribs. I scratched circles and lines down your back and into your pants. A thumb teased my nipple. Madness approaches.

You make me hungry…

You fingered the cloth of my thong and then… rip! Clothes flew, a calculated frenzy, sanity still clinging. I felt your fingers travel up the inside of my thigh. In our last lucid moments, we felt our reason slipping, our control fraying. And then we let it snap.

You plunged into sweet, dark madness. Heaving and humping and rasping. We sweat out our insanity in beads snaking down our backs as we moved together, slipping sliding ever closer to the abyss. Limbs tangled with each other, all arms and legs and lips and breasts and hips. Warm, soft, smooth, firm flesh… Over and over, I felt you move inside of me, with me, in me. I watched you disappear into me and the tension built, pulling tighter and tighter, walking the tightrope that might snap. It's a dangerous promise of perfect bliss. We climb higher and higher, filled with white hot sensations and excruciating pleasure. Do you feel me from the inside? Insanity hammered so thin it might break… and we came, like blinding light, stabbing pleasure, shattered nerves, throwing us over the edge, into the black, wild, wet abyss…

I sank my nails into your flesh and you clung to me with bruising force, leaving handprints on my body as our hips slammed together. Screaming pleasure ripped through flesh. The receding waves of pleasure left us trembling, sober, reeling…

And…

And what?

And still hungry…