The thick smell of smoke still hung in the air. Clothes tarnished with the smell of sweet cigars and fading perfume. The remaining ice melting into the scotch leaving a ringlet on the table and droplets on the glass. Her hair falling into ringlets onto her shoulders from the once meticulous bun. His perfectly pressed trousers beginning to crease. A slight shadow hovers his jawline and darkens his eyes.
The weariness of the night settling into her muscles. Her voice strained from singing set after set. Waiting for the hours to end. Waiting for him to just simply touch her.
The club empties in a slow-motioned escape. His eyes on the prize. She trembles at the promise of merely his touch. The slight tingle in her sex as he motions her forward. The slooow burn as his fingertips barely graze the stockings covering her flesh. He breaks the meager garters without a single fuss and rolls them nonchalantly to her knees. Her breathing catches as her woman is firmly grasped in his palm. She quivers as his fingers delve deep inside and leads him astride his lap.
The soft closing music lulls in the background aiding to the grind as he sits. Her hips move smoothly and the sweat begins to bead as his need pushes against her to reality. His buckle unclampsed and trousers unzipped, he slips his throbbing manhood towards her aching hole.
as the blues
echoing in the background
she rocks into the man that sat hidden in the corner.
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