Whew. So, as this update shows, I am alive! (Barely!) I knew I had to update SOMETHING…so I decided on this, which was already half typed up when I came across it. And, if you read Euonym, that is next on my list! I hope (I should probably say 'I will'…) have a chapter up by Monday. I know – crazy right?!?

And no, your eyes do not deceive you. This story is not completed! I've already started on the next chapter. Not sure yet where this story is going, exactly…By the way, sorry for the crappy title!! I can't come up with anything! If you want to recommend something I would love you forever... :)

Eh. I've said enough. Read. Review. And if you want to know any more about me or future/current stories of mine, then check my profile. Luv!

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I have never been in a nightclub. Oh, I've heard about them, of course – all music and alcohol and dancing and thrashing bodies, but I've never really experience it for myself. It's not something I'm inclined to do on my afternoons off. I normally don't like things like that, with so many people crammed into such a small space. Normally I'm so involved in my work I wouldn't even consider going to sucha place.

I will admit I indulge myself in an alarming amount of work that some would call obsession, but I have nothing else. I have no wife, or children, or hobbies. Nothing can grab my attention long enough for me to become interested – except for my work. So, in a way, my work is my hobby. If you define a hobby as what you do in your spare time.

Perhaps that's why I decided to go out. I realized how little I was leaving behind. I didn't particularly want children and I didn't really want to leave a legacy. But I wanted something, or rather, someone, to remember me as I left this planet.

It was a cold winter night, cold enough that my breath formed ephemeral clouds in the air, I shivered, rubbing my goose-bumped arms, but I was unwilling to re-enter my apartment and hunt for my coat. So I crossed my arms across my chest and set out, no destination in mind but determined to get there.

The city was alive tonight, as it was every night, heedless of a new presence amongst its mass of party goers. It always amazes me how different the city was when the sun escaped beyond the horizon. During the day the city was a place of work, where people walked with purpose, where they hurried with their heads down and minds withdrawn and didn't truly see anything.

But at night – at night the city turned into a place of pleasure, filled with sly winks and gentle touches and flashing lights. The buildings opened their doors and allowed the music and lights and people to spill out onto the street. It was a different place, a place of people willing to wander, of people wanting to forget their troubles for a hazy night and be as free as they could in this land of tall buildings that shuttered the heart.

I didn't really prefer one stage to the other. Both appealed to me and both repulsed me in their own ways. The day life was understandable in its simplicity. People went their way and arrived at their destination and later left. They didn't interact or pause or take interest in other things. The single-mindedness is reassuring in its familiarity- I was common with it, I knew it, and I embraced it.

Then again, that same complacency could turn into boredom on particularly tedious days.

The night was an antonym to the day life. It was chaos and pleasure and indulgence and everything forbidden during the day and if you could imagine it, there was someone who could, if given the right fee, make it come true. It was when people embraced restricted thoughts and considered doing things they never dared to do during the day. There was something fundamentally different about the dusk, about the darkness that so easily harbored secrets revealed in the light. It didn't matter if you'd nevere met the person next to you or what they did during the day – all there was was the moment, the now, for now you were content in the knowledge that the person next to you had the courage and audacity to venture into the night and join you.

I nodded to those who called out, not familiar with them nor them with me, but still wanting to be polite. I wasn't walking with a particular purpose or objective in mind. I was simply walking, waiting for the night to tell me where to go for my little excursion to begin.

It wasn't long before I was drawn to one of many clubs along the way. It didn't stand out and it wasn't exceptionally noteworthy. It was just like the rest of them, with flashing lights and a song with a heavy bass beat emitting from the open doors. I entered it cautiously, unfamiliar with this place and yet strangely eager to enter.

I instantly felt out of place in my black slacks and navy blue T-shirt, but I plowed on determinedly, stepping around the thrashing bodies in a futile effort. A few hands brushed teasingly across my body, and even though I'd never been in a place like this before I felt my body heat up and begin to sway slightly with the rhythm.

Still I moved on, more at ease with this strange environment, still looking for something I could not yet identify. I knew I stood out, and my experience with my place was, at best, poor. I wanted to finish whatever business I knew I had here and leave.

And then I saw him for the first time.

He stood alone, a miraculous occurrence in this packed club. There was a foot of space around him before the next dancers. Everyone in the surrounding circle dance facing him, as though he was the main attraction and the center of attention.

And perhaps he was. He moved and danced sinuously, with a grace and dexterity somehow lacking in those around him. He danced as though he was the best and he knew it, and everyone seemed to accept it. He changed the thrashing and rolling of hips from movement to an art, and the ease at which he did it amazed me as I paused and simply stared. He wore a skin tight belly shirt and tight black leather pants, and though his outfit showed much more skin then was strictly necessary, I couldn't help but admire the way he wore it, with comfort suggesting his subtle refinement.

Perhaps it was my staring that drew his eyes, or my outfit, or how I was simply standing in a nightclub. Or perhaps it was fate, although I've never believed in things like that before. At any rate, those piercing deep blue eyes turned their gaze upon me, and I felt my face flush slightly from the intensity of his look. He paused, flicking sandy blonde hair heavy with sweat out of his eyes, and beckoned me with a crooked finger.

It took my mind a moment to catch up to my body. This intoxicating man wanted me, inept, awkward, uncomfortable, to dance with him, competent, skilled, flawless? But my body was already moving forward, eager to meet and please this man I didn't know and yet still drew me close. As I approached he looped his arms around my neck and tugged me close, pressing our hips together. Obviously aware of my untried dancing ability, he began a simple slow sway, ignoring the furious beat of the song.

I carefully placed my hands on his hips, and he offered me a suggestive smile in return. I stiffened slightly when he pressed his lips to my neck and slid a questioning hand up my shirt. I was still confused by my surroundings and this stimulating man. Dancing was one thing, but what he was suggesting was something else entirely.

Still, part of me relished the touching. It'd been so long since another human being had touched me in such a way – too long as in never. I wasn't mean or self-absorbed, but I'd never really found anyone who I felt I could share the rest of my life with. I had never understood when someone turned their eyes to their lover and their look was filled with longing, passion, love. I didn't wish for the feeling because I'd never experienced it and thus couldn't know what I was missing. So the opportunity to experience it was almost too good to pass up.

Almost.

Sensing my hesitation, the man lifted his blue eyed gaze to look at me. I shook my head a little, unwilling to explain my thinking and unable to even if I wanted to because of all the noise. Sensing part of my dilemma, he grabbed my wrist and began pulling me through the crowd. I followed willingly.

A lot of interested looks were thrown my way as the man towed me through the crowd. There were mixes of surprise, confusion, and amusement. I didn't think it was because I was being dragged through a club by the most amazing man there; I got the feeling this was an occurrence that happened quite a lot. Rather, I got the feeling that these people were shooting me those looks because I wasn't one of his "regulars"; I didn't fit this man's usual types.

Which beget the question: why me? I wasn't special or extraordinary, at least certainly not compared to the rest of the people, I was astonishingly ordinary. Was that why he'd chosen me…?

Blinking, I realized that during my inner monologue he had dragged me into a bathroom and locked the stall door. Amazingly, even though I as locked inside an unfamiliar club with someone I didn't know, I was not afraid.

He came forward and kissed me, gently, and I sank into the touch, my senses exploding. His tongue pushed past my lips and his taste filled my mouth. I wasn't able to stop a moan from escaping and I realized this only encouraged him as he swiped his tongue across the inside of my mouth and quickly won our battle for dominance. We broke apart and I fell back against the stall, panting.

He closed the distance between us again. This time he threaded a hand through my black hair and lightly pulled my head to the side, pressing his lips to my neck and, sucking, left red marks I was sure would be evident in the morning. His right hand slid across my body and fingered my erection through the cloth of my pants, eliciting another gasp from me. Unused to the intense pleasure of another person touching my like he was, my overheated body and senses practically screamed for release, and I was loath not to give it. Still, when his fingers began working on the zipper of my pants, I turned my head and unwillingly pushed his hands away.

Instead of being angry, as I expected, he looked amused, the feeling flickering across his face.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, taking a step forward and throwing away the space I had created between us. "I know you enjoyed it…" To emphasize his point, he grinded his hips into mine and I inhaled sharply, resisting the strong urge I had to moan. I pressed into the thin wall, ineffectually trying to widen the gap between us. His smirk proved both that he knew what I was doing and what my intake of breath meant.

"I can't do this…" I muttered more to myself then to him.

"Why not?" he asked. "It's just a night of fun."

There. That was why. I realized it instantly, and I began to regret following this man. I didn't want to be "just a night of fun", or just some plaything to be used one night and then carelessly tossed away. Besides, I was trying to find someone to share my life with, not someone to have a one night stand with. I doubted this man would ever consider that to be an option, would be willing to be tied down, to be bound by the chains of responsibility and commitment that all relationships require. And, I sensed, I didn't want to burden him with such a thing. It was part of what drew me to him, those wild eyes and carefree attitude, and I would rather die then lock that away.

And on top of that…

"You're a virgin, aren't you?"

I started at the sound of his voice, a whisper in my ear. He was pressing his entire body against mine, his face hovering next to my ear, sending shivers down my spine as his breath tickled my over-sensitive skin. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle. You can trust me."

I opened my mouth to protest, to explain my reasoning and to tell him that this would only end in disappointment for me, but he harshly cover my lips with his own and forced my words back down my throat. His hands deftly pulled down my pants and underwear, leaving me exposed.

When his hand brushed my hard shaft, I drew in a shuddering breath and closed my eyes. I knew, at that moment, that I could not resist his advances. It did not matter what crushing guilt I would experience later. The only thing I could think about was how much I wanted this man to touch me, to pleasure me. Tomorrow would be dealt with tomorrow. For now there was only the rushing heat and my need to fulfill this longing ache.

My shirt was discarded next and fell to the floor. Hand still gripping my erection, he attacked a nipple, brushing his lips against it and then letting his tongue flick out and tease it. I could only stand there, my breath coming in ragged pants, as he continued, obviously practiced in his ability and clearly amused by my own inexperience. Even though the haze of ecstasy I managed to lift my hand and tangle it in his hair. It was soft and silky, smooth between my fingers as I curled my hands, gripping this lifeline tightly.

The man paused for a moment to shed his own clothing, but was soon upon me again, pressing our flushed skin together and kissing my already swollen lips. One of his legs curled around me and yanked us together, hips pressing closer and erections brushing, and I gasped, feeling my body tense and I couldn't take it, it was too much and I -

- hissed as I felt unfamiliar fingers sliding in, probing, stretching, loosening tight muscles. He laughed, softly, even as he continued, and I wrapped my arms around him and bit my lip, knowing what was coming but not entirely sure if I was ready for it.

/Doubts will get you nowhere now,/ I reminded myself. /You already made your decision. You can't turn back, even if you wanted to./ It was much to late to start second-guessing.

"Wrap your legs around me," he whispered, and I complied, bracing myself against the flimsy plastic wall. He shifted slight, spreading hi legs to attain a firmer stance, and helped lift me up. My legs crossed behind his back and, grinning, he inquired, "Ready?"

I swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to voice my assent or even anything at all.

He took a deep breath and shoved into me, harshly, penetrating me for the first time in one deft and practiced movement. I let out a tiny scream at the pain and my head fell back, slamming against the plastic wall. The pain from my head only added to the overall intense discomfort as the man pulled out and slammed back into me. This time I let out a whimper and dug my fingers into his shoulders, wondering why on Earth anyone enjoyed this.

My question was answered with the next few thrusts. I'd never really understood the definition of a "sweet spot", but when he slammed into me once again and hit that bundle of nerves the most amazing sensation shot through my body. My eyes flew open and I gasped as the pain blossomed into something considerably better and more pleasurable. He sensed the change, the transition, and smirked, even as he continued thrusting in and out of me. Waves of pure, indefinable euphoria surged through me and I moaned, unused to the sensation but craving more of it even as I reached my peak. He buried himself in me and I climaxed, letting a scream rip from my throat and arching away from the wall as my body tensed and my seed spilled from me. He came just a few seconds after me, biting down sharply on my neck to stop his own cry. I let out a little moan as his seed filled me.

For a few moments the only sound I could hear over the loud throbbing music was my racing heart and our mingled panting. Then he slid carefully out of me, pushing my legs down, and I almost fell over as I forced my shaky legs to support my body. I watched through slotted eyes as the man quickly redressed, smoothing his hair back and shooting me a grin.

I struggled into my own clothing at a considerably slower rate. He watched, clearly entertained by my floundering actions, and when I was finished pushed open the stall door and motioned me out.

I hesitated, staring at the man, wanting to savor and memorize each curve and part of him. Finally I sighed, turning away and exiting. It did not matter how long I looked into his blue eyes or eyed his sumptuous hips – I would never forget him. This I knew with an unerring certainty, and I was both defiant and resigned to the news. I left the club and the dancing man behind and walked back to my apartment, not once glancing behind, even when my eyes smarted and I blinked furiously to clear them.

And so ended my first nigh in a nightclub.