Parties
There is a beat in the room. Pulsating, the bodies move along with it. I sit back.
Her body moves rhythmically to the music. Hungrily, I watch. Hips sway, hair bounces, legs intricately dance and obey. She is a goddess, and I am eager to compliment and adorn, in return for her mere presence. Because there is such a crowd, I also watch those around her, glaring at the boy who dances too close for my tastes.
Sometimes, observing is too much.
My head throbs and my heart aches. There is a tingle in my core. It is a feeling that only she can create within me. Oddly, I feel the need to touch, to taste and satisfy my lust. Only she can truly fix my desire. However, for now, my fantasies are all that I need to sustain sanity.
Thrusting myself through the sea of blank faces, I stumble out through the door. I drove her here, so I cannot leave. But, it is the most private place available.
Fumbling in my handbag, I find the keys. A click, and I am in a safe haven. Beyond that moment, I have no control. I lock myself inside the car and hastily crawl to the backseat. Hoping that the street is still filled with only empty cars, I sink as low and as spread out as possible. With trembling hands, I unzip my jeans. Heaven is only moments away. I can feel it.
It does not take much for me to find my pace. Like the music and the dancing bodies, I have found my rhythm. My physical self feels unconnected with my mind, and I am unaware if it is still my hand that is creating this unexplainable pleasure.
I think of everything that I can remember about her. Her beautiful lips and soft hair. Her loving eyes and glorious figure. The way she moves about places, always animated. The way she seems to unknowingly make it clear that we are the best of friends, but nothing more than that.
As my thoughts of her are invaded by fear, I suddenly crash back into my body. And I feel the tears streak my face, as I near climax. It will end soon, I promise myself.
I shutter at the wonderful spasms that seem to fill me.
Regaining my composure, I allow my breathing to come to a normal pace. I fix my clothes and mess with my hair for a moment, failing any attempt at vanity. It seems as if I am on auto-pilot, exiting the car and stalking back into the loud house. The voices are drowned and the world in front of me seems a bit fuzzy, more comfortable almost. Through the thick cluster of faceless people, I can see the only one that I care about.
My voice might crackle, but the goddess will not notice. Just loud enough for her to hear, I utter:
"Sam, are you ready to go home?"