Six years ago I had one of the
best nights of my life. I had gone with a friend to a club in the next town to
us. (It's one of the biggest in the UK) and she was going to see a group that
I'd never heard of. Once we were in she met up with fellow fans and I stayed by
the bar, sipping merrily on vodka and red bull. Later on we went to a club, it
has to be said that it was one of the tackiest clubs I've ever been to but hey,
all shorts and spirits 94p. I was at the bar; I didn't care about what people
were saying. I didn't want to go out that night. I was just ordering my third
drink in there when this sexy voice from behind me said, "Make that two,
and I'm buying". When I turned round to see who it was and to tell them it
would take more than one drink to get my knickers off, I saw what can only be
described as the most sexiest eyes I've ever seen. A man stood there in front of
me in black jeans and a white v-necked t shirt, he biceps bulging from beneath
the tight white material. His hair was long and bleached blond with flecks of
brown in it. The hair on his neck curled and looked so cute and almost framed
the veins in his neck, offering them to be kissed and licked. He smiled at me
with such a cheeky boyishness. How could I resist? I took the drink and said
thank you. He said he'd seen me earlier at the gig and thought I looked sexy.
His hand reached down, for a second I thought he was going to try something but
instead his hand went into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigs
(Marlborough red's) he took one and offered one to me. Now I'm a wimpy smoker,
the strongest I smoke are l & B's and on this night I'd been smoking
Marlborough Light, but not wanting to offend the guy I took one and he pulled
out a lighter. It was one of those zippo lighters with a picture of James Dean
on it. Cool I thought, someone else who likes the old film stars. I bent down a
bit and lit my cig. Oh God, the first drag was almost like having an orgasm, I
could feel the sensation in my knees but I didn't want to seem like a pretend
smoker, after all I'd been smoking for at least 7 years now. He moved in closer
to me, I thought our lips would meet but he was reaching behind me to get to the
ashtray. As he came in close to me I could smell him, he was wearing Obsession
for men and it spelt so good on him. We had the drink and talked. He said I had
a nice accent and I told him he wasn't a good liar, which made him laugh, he had
little baby teeth. He motioned to move away from the bar and I did, we were
stood near the banister for the stairs down to the toilets. He was telling me
about himself. Then after fifteen minutes he moved in closer to me, the smell
having the same affect as the cig, knees trembling, excitement building in the
stomach. He moved in much closer to me this time and I felt his lips brush
against mine, then his lips were on mine, we started kissing with such passion.
I had to do something with my hands so I moved them round the back of him and
gripped hold of his tight arse and pulled him in closer to me. His hands moved
up from my waist and were kneading my breasts like an expert baker. I could feel
his hard on through his jeans, rubbing up against my crotch, which sent a shock
of electricity straight up my body. He moved from my lips, still working on my
breasts his mouth went up to my ear, I could feel his hot breath on my skin,
"I really want to fuck you but the toilets are so busy we'll never get in
there". I just moaned and nodded to him. He looked around; there was an
alcove with seats just a few steps above us. He motioned with his head to go up
there; I just nodded and followed him.
I was walking like a one-year-old, who'd just learnt to walk; I kept
feeling as though my legs would give way under me. The guy sat down, one hand
still holding mine and the other one rubbing his dick. I moved in front of him
and sat on his lap facing him. His hands moved to my thighs and he slowly moved
his hands up my thigh's pushing the dress with it, then I could feel his fingers
rubbing my clit through the thin and now damp material that stood between me and
his finger. He moved and again put his lips on my lips and started kissing me so
hard but tender. His fingers had moved the material of my knickers over; my
hands instinctively and without really thinking about it had moved down and
unfastened his jeans. I could see the head of his dick peeking out of the top of
his shorts. I moved my hand down and touched it; it almost seemed to jump into
my hand on it's own. The feel of it pulsating and jittering under my touch, I
moved the material down and he moved his groin forward slightly, his fingers
rubbing my hard clit. I took the dick in my hand and slowly started moving my
hand up and down the shaft, feeling the skin move with my touch, I rubbed my
palm on the top to get some of the pre-cum and used it to give a little bit of
moisture to the touch. He moaned but didn't move his mouth from mine and I could
feel it vibrate on my lips. He moved me forward with his hands and I guided his
dick into me, I could feel it going in deeper, deeper, for a moment I thought
that he would impale me up to my stomach. With one hand on my hip and one on my
breast he slowly guided me to the rhythm he wanted. Once I was in the swing his
hands moved, both now on my breasts, he pulled my top down slightly and took one
breasts slightly out of the bra so one erect red nipple was showing above my
bra, he moved his head down and started sucking and licking on it with the
hunger that a virgin would. I heard him moan and sigh and then I felt the liquid
of his cum start to spurt into me. When he was done I moved back and he pulled
out and put my knickers back straight and pulled my top up and did his flies up.
He looked at me and smiled and said thank you with a cheeky grin. I moved off
him and he grabbed my hand. We went to the bar without saying a word and he
ordered another round. He took two cigs out of the packet and lit them both and
gave one to me.
Then he looked back at the stairs, it was fairly empty as the second band
had come on stage and the security was gone. He took me by the hand after we'd
finished the cig and took me down the stairs, at the bottom of the stairs you
could go left for the ladies and right for the gents: we went right and went
into the gents, it was empty but he insisted on checking the cubicles. He was
still holding my hand, he went into the end stall near to the window and locked
the door, I had noticed in the dark but he was all sweaty and his hair was
starting to stick to his forehead and the curls around his neck were sticking to
him. He pushed me up against the wall with the window and started kissing me
hungrily, his hands had moved down to my skirt hem and he was pulling it up,
then he started pushing down my knickers to a point where he couldn't do it with
his hands anymore and then his knee came up and he pushed them down to the floor
with his foot, I stepped out of them. I started to undo his jeans again. He
pulled down my top with a force and started feasting hungrily on my breasts and
nipples, once again making them stand to attention. He lifted my leg up and I
placed it on the toilet. With one thrust he was in me again. His pace was faster
and harder, he started kissing my neck, the electric in me was building up, the
passion, the orgasm, ready to explode, my hands in his golden hair, pushing him
into my chest. Then he came. He stood up and got dressed. I pulled my dress back
into its proper shape. He bent down and picked up my knickers from the floor and
with a cheeky smile said, "Got carried away, sorry" and we back up to
the bar. He'd put the knickers into his pocket and he still had hold of my hand.
A tall skinny guy was stood at the top of the stairs, "Come on short
arse, the bus leaves in 10 minutes" and with that he moved away. He went to
the bar, dragging me with him, asking the bar people for a pen and paper. No
paper but they had a pen. He was looking through his pockets trying to find
paper - he pulled out the cig packet and wrote on that, at first the pen didn't
work and he had to write on the other side. He kissed me on the mouth and said
thank you and went. When I got outside at the end of the night I looked at the
cig box under the street lamp: ‘James B, 01… call me’. Then I knew who it
was. I never phoned but I kept the cig packet to this day and kept one of the
cigs. When he had opened the packet in the nightclub one of the cigs was turned
upside down from the others and that's the one I kept. Now I love the band and
think James is so sexy still.