This is one of the stories I drafted for round 4 of the Smut Marathon, but ended up discarding as I didn’t think it met the brief well enough. Seemed a shame to waste it though, especially when it saves me the trouble of thinking up something new for Masturbation Monday!
Hard-edged, pounding bass squeezes my sternum and throbs my stomach. Here is the music, thrumming in my blood; here are my nipples hardening, a collar snug around my throat. Overhead, smoke and green laser-light wreathe languorous patterns, stroking like a lover’s hands through the air.
Perfume and fresh sweat, heat and lights, bodies mixing with the music, the air around me pulses with sensuality in overdrive.
Your dark, gold-dusted skin gleams under the nightclub lights, catching my eye
You move like a hunter.
I want, so much, for you to ram your thigh between mine and grind yourself against me, slow and sweet. I want your fingers in my mouth, to suck gently and run my tongue along, flirt the tip against your fingerprints.
You grin and move in closer, close enough for me to feel your body heat; I need to fill my hands with you, rub myself across you, taste you on my lips and tongue. As I reach out, I meet your hands coming the other way.
You’re warm and smooth, sweat-slick, solid.
“I’m impressed.” I pull off the headset and sit up, blinking, in the contoured recliner chair. “The fidelity is amazing, how many recordings did it take?”
SoftTouch’s founder, and chief engineer is Leila, a intense young woman with a serious expression. As nerdy as she is about VR sextech, she knows better than to bore a potential investor with geek-babble.
“Not many, once the actors got used to the sensors. Seven, maybe eight hours in total.”
A hopeful, wondering grin steals across Leila’s face when I offer her my hand.
“You’d better show me your business plans. I also have one very firm condition.”
“Name it,” she says happily.
“I get the first production model!”