Fuck Of The Party

I mentioned before that Henri and I had sex in a Gothic club/party. Here is how it happened…

This was about the fourth time that we had gone to this party (they threw them once a month) and the second time attending with my older sister and her boyfriend. We had each bought new outfits for this occasion. Mine was a  black and white mini skirt, edged with lace; fishnet stockings (because almost everyone wore a pair at the party) and some cute boot like shoes. My favorite item of my ensemble was  a completely elastic vest that had no buttons. In order to close the vest, you had to thread something through the tiny holes provided, almost like a shoe lace. I used a chain link that I then clasped together using a small lock; around my husband's neck was the key to that lock. The best part of that vest? No bra.

The location of the party was in a rented hall. There was a small bar, a sunken dance floor, and on the opposite side of the room a two tier row of chairs and a few tables for people to rest on. The second row up was always the darkest area of the whole place, seeing as it was the farthest part of the room. We (all four of us) were there, dancing and drinking, having a good time. This is a place where all people who were punk rock-emo-goth-alternative–whatever you want to call them, came together. The party was thrown by a vampire clan called Hidden Shadows. If you were part of the clan you wore a necklace with a specific pendant on it of a manly figure holding a red sphere in the center, and bat like wings on his back. With that necklace on, clan members were allowed in the VIP area of the party. I have never been, but I once peaked inside and saw coffins, candles, champagne, and translucent drapery. It looked downright sexy in there.

See, there was a vibe in that place; one of inhibition, of freeing yourself somehow. The party allowed for people to dress up in any way they wanted; and most women, like myself, opted for seductive and sexy, and sometimes they were two inches of cloth away from being completely naked. The music wasn't just rock and heavy metal; there was techno, 80′s, house, electro pop–music that kept you moving. Us having sex wasn't planned; we were dancing, and by that I mean that I was bent over, holding on to the edge of the table, grinding my ass into his crotch. I turned around and sat on top of the table, Henrí standing between my open legs. We began kissing and caressing each other; I  took it a step further by biting, licking, and kissing his ear, trailing my tongue down his freshly shaved face, reaching down to the outside of his pants and cupping his dick. I felt him get hard, and he tried to resist, tried to pull away. But I was feeling this, and I couldn't stop.

"Fuck me now! I don't care who see's us!" I told him, my mouth on his ear, my hand unzipping his pants. My fingers found the button to his boxers and after undoing it, I gripped his hard cock as much as I could; his boxers became a problem as the opening was too small to allow my hands to touch him comfortably. Kissing him hard and long, I ripped the opening of his boxers and pulled out his dick, jerking it as we continued to kiss. He rubbed and pinched my nipples through my tight elastic vest, my hard nipples visible through the black sheer cloth. I ripped open a whole in my fishnets, scooped my thong aside, and pulled him into me. He thrust into me for a moment, but the leveling of the table was off, and so the position was not working. He wanted to stop; but I said no. Looking behind him I spotted an empty chair.

"See that chair behind you? Sit on it."

When he sat on the chair, I did a little dance for him, grinding  my ass on him a little more, feeling the rigidity of his dick against my me. I saw the look on his face; the one men give you when what you are doing feels so good, it's also torture; it's the look I've seen so many times on Henrí's face; the "I want to fuck you so bad" look. I turned and faced him; with my hand on his dick I entered it inside me. I began to ride him according to the beat of the music, but eventually everything faded around me. I only cared about our rhythm, my movement and his reaction. I'm not sure how long it took, but I ultimately felt his warm cum spread inside me. The music came back, the blood pounding in my veins keeping time with the song. I stood up and went to the ladies room with my sister to clean up; his cum was beginning to seep out. Once in there, I told my sister what we'd just done.

"I know," she says, giggling.

"What do you mean you know?" I asked

"I noticed. You weren't moving to the sound of the music; you were moving like you were having sex. It's not that hard to see what you were doing."

"So if you noticed, do you think anyone else did?" I asked.

She didn't answer me, but only smiled as we walked out and back into the arms of our men.

Republished with permission from A True Unfolding. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo via Party Hardcore.