Dancing with a Friend

A Sexual Fantasy

— By pixel

We knew each other in high school. It was the first connection in my life that felt instant and hot, like an electric shock. We would share a look with each other and it’s like I knew what was going on in his head, and he knew what was going on in mine. He knew how I felt about him, but he didn’t want me back, we were only friends. I was sorta chubby then, vulgar, and really mean when I wanted to be, it’s how I coped with life. Nothing ever happened between us, he dated someone else and then ended up moving. I still thought about him at times even though we were never actually together. Years passed, I’m 22 now. I’ve had many lovers/experiences that have shaped me into the confident and expressive person that i am now, I’m not afraid to be myself anymore. I take a weekend trip to LA, and go to a nightclub. I’m wearing a dark purple satin dress and my black eyeshadow is smudged with sweat. I don’t feel like talking to anyone so I just dance, moving my body to the pulsing music. I wander through the crowd like a ghost, just taking in the scene. I look over my shoulder and feel a pair of eyes on me, his eyes. Im in shock and first but then I just tilt my head and laugh at the coincidence. We both drift to the middle of the dance floor, he grabs my hips as I sway them back and forth. I hook my fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and pull him closer to me. I lean into his ear and tell him he hasn’t changed a bit, he laughs and tells me that I’ve changed a lot. I just smile at him again and say I know I have. That’s all we say to eachother, that’s all we need to say. We dance until we can’t anymore. Then I go home with him to his apartment. We fuck all night, and he kisses, licks and bites me all over. He knew me while I was still hiding, and now he gets to see the real me. I take my time exploring his body, the one I fantasized about so many years ago. Still his most fascinating feature is his eyes, when I’m riding him I can see every moment we’d shared flashing in them, like he’s remembering our friendship. I tangle my hands in his hair, he tells me I’m beautiful, and then I make him cum so hard he sees god. We then fall asleep in each others arm, whispering sweet nothings. In the morning I am a ghost again. He is asleep when I wake up, and I press a soft kiss to his shoulder, get dressed and slip away. I feel refreshed, content knowing what could have been finally happened