Dance Floor Delight
It was late Saturday night when Matsumoto first laid her eyes on Isshin. It was already way past midnight and the club was packed with people, moving and grinding into one another under faint blue and red lights. Not all clubs in Tokyo were as hot as this one. There were others, way across town that may have had better food or better drinks. But they didn't have better men.
And they didn't have Isshin.
Matsumoto was feeling pretty good. She had already downed a few glasses of sake. Danced a little. Talked a little. But everything seemingly stood still the minute she saw Isshin. She wasn't the only woman eyeing him. Tightly wrapped in his shirt and jeans, no woman could resist staring at his incredibly sexy abs. As he stood there leaning against the bar, laughing with his friends, she couldn't help noticing the way the lights played on his beautiful brown, Matsumoto fantasized about him, imagining herself kissing his lips, licking his neck…tasting every inch of his fabulous abs. His long, strong legs were taut, practically bursting out of those blue jeans that oozed pure sexiness.
She waited for a break in the action. Alone, in the dark of the club, it was difficult to tell if Isshin was with anyone or simply out on the town with a couple of buddies. "No question," she thought to herself as she rose from her stool to make her move, "The sake has taken their toll." The drinks caused her to deliberately maintain her gait as she began her approach. Moving slowly and deliberately, she weaved her way through the crowd until she was no more than a few feet from him. The closer she got, the more attracted she became.
The heavy thumping of the loud music made it nearly impossible to hear what anyone was saying. The flashing lights made it difficult to see. The pushing and pulling of the crowd made it awkward to stand still. And yet, in one moment, everything froze. In a split second, Matsumoto watched in amazement as Isshin slowly turned his head in her direction and immediately locked his manly, wanting brown eyes on hers.
She moved closer, step by step, never taking her lovely, blue eyes from his gaze. When she was within inches, she offered him her hand. Without a word, Isshin sat his sake on to the bar. She wrapped her soft, sensual fingers around his, letting him lead her to the middle of the dance floor. The music suddenly grew louder, more intense. The crowd around them was moving wildly to the beat, but neither Matsumoto nor Isshin were keeping time. They were moving together, slowly and deliberately.
Seemingly without effort, Matsumoto felt his large, strong hands slip around her waist. The two of them were swaying to their own rhythm. With their eyes still locked on one another's, Matsumoto drew even closer to him. Close enough to touch. Close enough for Isshin to become intoxicated by the scent of her jasmine perfume.
Moving in perfect harmony, she began to dance and twirl, teasing Isshin by alternately smiling and running her sleek, silky hands across his abs, driving him into a frenzy. With each twirl under the strobe light, her mini skirt flew straight out, where Isshin could see that she was wearing next to nothing – or nothing at all – underneath.
Isshin could feel his breathing – and everything else -- getting harder. As she completed her last spin, Matsumoto backed up against him, sliding up and down the front of his pants, toying with him. Teasing him. With each movement, Isshin's hardened manhood could feel the cleavage of Matsumoto's buttocks. The music thumped harder, with her stroking Isshin into a heated passion that he could barely control. He slipped his hands around her waist from behind, half expecting her to pull away.
But she didn't.
He took that as a sign and began grinding his fully erect rod against the back of her buttocks. With one hand, Matsumoto reached for Isshin's hand, and placed it on her right breast. He could feel her nipple harden through the thin, slippery silk. She heaved a trembling sigh that he couldn't hear, but definitely could feel. It shook her whole body. With her left hand, she reached back and nimbly unzipped his pants. Her smooth, soft fingers found their way to his rock solid lance, grabbing and pulling exactly the way Isshin liked to be handled.
Isshin let his hand drop from her waist, reaching under her mini-dress to feel Matsumoto's warm, wet womanhood. He was right – there were no panties. No g-string. Just pure, delicious desire. He began massaging her, feeling her lean back against him, pushing him into the darkest corner of the dance floor.
They stayed like that for a moment or two, grinding against each other, the beat of the music drowning out any moans or sighs of pleasure. Yet ,each knew the pleasure of the other by their trembling, shaking and movements in unison.
Matsumoto couldn't remember the last time she'd felt a man so big and hard. As Isshin sucked the back of her neck, he pulled up the back of her dress and placed his tool between the two luscious cheeks of her buttocks. The warmth of her skin, mixed with her sweat in her cleavage allowed his lance to glide freely against her crack. Up and down, his tool grew harder and longer. His placed his hand, now completely soaked, against her hip so that he could gain more leverage with each thrust. And with each thrust, he could smell the faint scent of her juices. It drove him crazier. It made him wild.
For all her grace, Matsumoto was writhing in rhythm, barely in control of her senses. The feeling of Isshin's manhood against her butt was teasing her to the point where she couldn't help herself. She began rubbing her love button lightly. Then more intensely, feeling the thrill of building ecstasy as the sweat from behind trickled down along the rim of her bottom.
The air in the club was getting thicker. Hotter. Isshin squeezed Matsumoto's buttocks harder and he pumped his gigantic manhood again and again. With each thrust, Matsumoto rubbed her love tip harder and harder until both of them could stand it no more. With one huge, deep movement, Isshin blasted his load between her cheeks, sending a cascade of love up the small of her back, down her crack and between her legs. When Matsumoto felt him explode, she shuddered violently, climaxing so strongly that her long, tan legs almost gave out from under her.
She fell back into Isshin's arms, where he wrapped her and held her. They both sat there in the dark, illuminated by the flashes of the strobe light, still unable to hear a word.
It didn't matter. Whatever they had to say to each other really didn't need to be heard. Everything they had to say they could hear simply by gazing into each other's eyes.