Silly Sphinx
23rd November 2003, 02:56
Disclaimer: Don't own it, just like to use and abuse. Thanks WB, DC for sending my muse into creation overload. :O
Summary: Dark, crowded nightclub where no one is looking, to bodies bump and grind, confessing their secrets through the music.
A/N: One Shot. I am really bored...at this current time in moment I am over at my boyfriend's house, waiting for him to get home. His parents are in the other room watching a movie that had loud thumpy music...I was suddenly inspired. ;p
Bump and Grind
The music was pumping and the bass thudded through her body as she gyrated her hips. It was fun, and she brought her hands over her head, laughing wildly. Around her a hundred other people bumped and grinded into each other, making her seem insignificant; unnoticed.
Except by one person.
He sat in the dark corner of the bar, his ‘Slow, Comfortable Screw’ forgotten on the table. His eyes were on her lithe form, swishing along to the hypnotic dance music. She was beautiful when she wasn’t notice, wild and free; without a trouble in the world. He, unfortunately, was stuck in this reality, no matter how much alcohol he consumed or drug he ingested. He envied her as she gyrated wildly on the floor, her hands above her head as a complete stranger grabbed her hips and followed her rhythm.
It made her feel free to loose herself in the crowd, to forget about all the troubles. Admittedly, it felt good to forget about Smallville as a whole; the good and the bad. She gasped as a warm pair of hands fell on her hips, his own hips pressed closely to her bottom. Through her skirt she could feel the ridged outline of his erection against her. Breath soft against her neck, she inhaled deeply and smelled rich, expensive cologne. “Don’t turn around…” He whispered, his voice hoarse in her ear.
She had to admit a stranger like this never approached her in this matter, but she liked it. He sounded older; he was certainly rich by the smell of his cologne and the watch on his wrist. “Who are you?” She asked, but her voice was lost to the sound of the music.
“Don’t stop dancing.” He whispered, pressing a palm against her stomach.
Chloe didn’t miss a beat, she danced until she thought her lungs would burst. Leaning in closer, she looped an arm around his chest and closed her eyes. Privately, she didn’t want to see what he looked like, her own fantasies were enough to feed the fire of her desire and extinguish her hesitance. The woman looped an arm around his neck, pulling his head down. Her tongue slid slowly down his jaw line, and she could feel him shudder. “I won’t look.” She muttered huskily as she turned away.
His lips touched the soft skin of her neck, teeth nicked at her flesh as their hips grinded together. Beyond the thought of behaving himself, beyond the consciousness of the public eye, he cared nothing of the paparazzi as his fingers slid confidently under the waistband of her skirt. Testing her will, he slid lower…slowly…until the tips of his fingers caught the soft patch of rough curls. He could see her mouth moving, even hear her voice as she talked, but he couldn’t make out the words through the beat of the music.
The music made her high, it made her careless and she loved it. She wanted the feeling of his fingers between her legs, rubbing her, and just the feeling of doing this in public was enough to get her off in an instant. A face pushed through her haze, a face that she was slightly surprised to have even thought of at that moment. “Yes…” His long, soft hands sliding into her skirt, questing the silken barriers of her underwear. It wasn’t her imagination; the man had finally taken the hint and pushed the crotch of her underwear aside. The pressure of his fingers pushing into her crease, teasing the bud of moist skin made her want to scream. But he was still there, his provocative smile, the sly gleam in his brilliant blue eyes.
He slid his hands from between her legs, making her groan. A waitress walked by slowly, he nodded to her and took the small shot glasses off of her tray. Putting the small glass on her lip, she tilted her head and parted her lips to let the bitter liquid slide like a molten rock down her throat. The little glass slid from her fingers and shattered on the floor, as he took his own shot.
Chloe’s arm, the one wrapped around his neck was starting to ache enough that she felt it, and she slid it down to her side. Pressing the man’s hands onto her stomach, she followed them as they slipped low and cupped between her legs. It was a brash move, enough to make her gasp. He could feel the cloth, slick with her juices, slide between her legs. “I want to see you.”
“No.” He knew that if she found out who he was, it was over. “Don’t look…just feel it.” Glancing around the room to see if anyone had taken notice to him and realizing that each dancer was in their own world, he slipped his hands back down her pants. His fingers rested against her moist pussy, her gyrating hips caused the friction that was needed to stimulate her wont.
She thought of him, how she felt as he tilted back his head and just laughed. It seemed so full and free, the way she wished he would be. The heat was starting to build, it had been there for a long time, since she had entered the bar and began feel the music throbbing deep beneath her skin. The fire was building, building, her body straining against it trying to make it last longer and longer.
With his free hand, he cupped her breast, feeling the nipple hard against his palm. The movement of her hips had become quicker, and he could feel her body quivering. “That’s it! That’s it!” She chanted softly.
“Come for me…” He whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her ear.
His breath against her ear was a sensation that pushed her over the edge. Arching her back against him, she cried out, her calls lost to the throbbing music. He stopped, listening in disbelief as she whispered it again, thinking that he couldn’t hear her. Did she peak? Did she know who he was? Why did she call out his name?
Lex didn’t object as she turned slowly, her eyes meeting his. Slowly, he could see the transformation as her dark eyes went wide with her own measure of disbelief, “Lex…?” With the initial shock of their strange meeting over, Chloe boldly grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him towards the chair he just so happened to have been sitting in before. It was completely dark, and the deep cushions of the couch gave her enough room to straddle his waist.
“Chloe?” He asked, meeting her heated gaze.
Her hands worked slowly on his belt, deliberately undoing the buttons. “Don’t speak…close your eyes.”
A breath caught in his throat as her nimble fingers touched the rim of his boxers. Skimming along the band, she rubbed against the head of his cock, making him groan. Her hand pressed full against him, the warmth was enough to make him groan and wrap his fingers through her blonde hair. “I need something…”
She leaned in, whispering for him to be quiet. Her hand rubbed up and down, the finely woven cotton causing friction so divine that a burst of sparks floated in and out of his vision. As the speed picked up, he bucked his hips and pulled her head down to kiss her. The woman pulled away, her hair tearing painfully and when he realized that he was hurting her, he let go.
It was too much for him, as her hands moved expertly up and down his penis. Deep within him, he felt the gushing molten lava that screamed for release. Arching his back, he buried his face into her shoulder and came. It was bliss. It was sweet release from the tight confines of fleshly prison. “Chloe…” He whispered as he met her grin.
“Now…”She purred bring his chin up so that his face was mere inches from hers. “Do you always go around sticking your hands down women’s pants?”
He smiled, “Not always, only the beautiful, sexy ones.”
Chloe chuckled, “Oh, so that is quite often, then?”
“No. Not very often do I see someone who fits that description. It was the first time that I had.”
“Oh yeah?”
“And what about you? Letting strange men stick their hands down your pants?”
She chuckled, “Only the sexy, bald ones.”
Summary: Dark, crowded nightclub where no one is looking, to bodies bump and grind, confessing their secrets through the music.
A/N: One Shot. I am really bored...at this current time in moment I am over at my boyfriend's house, waiting for him to get home. His parents are in the other room watching a movie that had loud thumpy music...I was suddenly inspired. ;p
Bump and Grind
The music was pumping and the bass thudded through her body as she gyrated her hips. It was fun, and she brought her hands over her head, laughing wildly. Around her a hundred other people bumped and grinded into each other, making her seem insignificant; unnoticed.
Except by one person.
He sat in the dark corner of the bar, his ‘Slow, Comfortable Screw’ forgotten on the table. His eyes were on her lithe form, swishing along to the hypnotic dance music. She was beautiful when she wasn’t notice, wild and free; without a trouble in the world. He, unfortunately, was stuck in this reality, no matter how much alcohol he consumed or drug he ingested. He envied her as she gyrated wildly on the floor, her hands above her head as a complete stranger grabbed her hips and followed her rhythm.
It made her feel free to loose herself in the crowd, to forget about all the troubles. Admittedly, it felt good to forget about Smallville as a whole; the good and the bad. She gasped as a warm pair of hands fell on her hips, his own hips pressed closely to her bottom. Through her skirt she could feel the ridged outline of his erection against her. Breath soft against her neck, she inhaled deeply and smelled rich, expensive cologne. “Don’t turn around…” He whispered, his voice hoarse in her ear.
She had to admit a stranger like this never approached her in this matter, but she liked it. He sounded older; he was certainly rich by the smell of his cologne and the watch on his wrist. “Who are you?” She asked, but her voice was lost to the sound of the music.
“Don’t stop dancing.” He whispered, pressing a palm against her stomach.
Chloe didn’t miss a beat, she danced until she thought her lungs would burst. Leaning in closer, she looped an arm around his chest and closed her eyes. Privately, she didn’t want to see what he looked like, her own fantasies were enough to feed the fire of her desire and extinguish her hesitance. The woman looped an arm around his neck, pulling his head down. Her tongue slid slowly down his jaw line, and she could feel him shudder. “I won’t look.” She muttered huskily as she turned away.
His lips touched the soft skin of her neck, teeth nicked at her flesh as their hips grinded together. Beyond the thought of behaving himself, beyond the consciousness of the public eye, he cared nothing of the paparazzi as his fingers slid confidently under the waistband of her skirt. Testing her will, he slid lower…slowly…until the tips of his fingers caught the soft patch of rough curls. He could see her mouth moving, even hear her voice as she talked, but he couldn’t make out the words through the beat of the music.
The music made her high, it made her careless and she loved it. She wanted the feeling of his fingers between her legs, rubbing her, and just the feeling of doing this in public was enough to get her off in an instant. A face pushed through her haze, a face that she was slightly surprised to have even thought of at that moment. “Yes…” His long, soft hands sliding into her skirt, questing the silken barriers of her underwear. It wasn’t her imagination; the man had finally taken the hint and pushed the crotch of her underwear aside. The pressure of his fingers pushing into her crease, teasing the bud of moist skin made her want to scream. But he was still there, his provocative smile, the sly gleam in his brilliant blue eyes.
He slid his hands from between her legs, making her groan. A waitress walked by slowly, he nodded to her and took the small shot glasses off of her tray. Putting the small glass on her lip, she tilted her head and parted her lips to let the bitter liquid slide like a molten rock down her throat. The little glass slid from her fingers and shattered on the floor, as he took his own shot.
Chloe’s arm, the one wrapped around his neck was starting to ache enough that she felt it, and she slid it down to her side. Pressing the man’s hands onto her stomach, she followed them as they slipped low and cupped between her legs. It was a brash move, enough to make her gasp. He could feel the cloth, slick with her juices, slide between her legs. “I want to see you.”
“No.” He knew that if she found out who he was, it was over. “Don’t look…just feel it.” Glancing around the room to see if anyone had taken notice to him and realizing that each dancer was in their own world, he slipped his hands back down her pants. His fingers rested against her moist pussy, her gyrating hips caused the friction that was needed to stimulate her wont.
She thought of him, how she felt as he tilted back his head and just laughed. It seemed so full and free, the way she wished he would be. The heat was starting to build, it had been there for a long time, since she had entered the bar and began feel the music throbbing deep beneath her skin. The fire was building, building, her body straining against it trying to make it last longer and longer.
With his free hand, he cupped her breast, feeling the nipple hard against his palm. The movement of her hips had become quicker, and he could feel her body quivering. “That’s it! That’s it!” She chanted softly.
“Come for me…” He whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against her ear.
His breath against her ear was a sensation that pushed her over the edge. Arching her back against him, she cried out, her calls lost to the throbbing music. He stopped, listening in disbelief as she whispered it again, thinking that he couldn’t hear her. Did she peak? Did she know who he was? Why did she call out his name?
Lex didn’t object as she turned slowly, her eyes meeting his. Slowly, he could see the transformation as her dark eyes went wide with her own measure of disbelief, “Lex…?” With the initial shock of their strange meeting over, Chloe boldly grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him towards the chair he just so happened to have been sitting in before. It was completely dark, and the deep cushions of the couch gave her enough room to straddle his waist.
“Chloe?” He asked, meeting her heated gaze.
Her hands worked slowly on his belt, deliberately undoing the buttons. “Don’t speak…close your eyes.”
A breath caught in his throat as her nimble fingers touched the rim of his boxers. Skimming along the band, she rubbed against the head of his cock, making him groan. Her hand pressed full against him, the warmth was enough to make him groan and wrap his fingers through her blonde hair. “I need something…”
She leaned in, whispering for him to be quiet. Her hand rubbed up and down, the finely woven cotton causing friction so divine that a burst of sparks floated in and out of his vision. As the speed picked up, he bucked his hips and pulled her head down to kiss her. The woman pulled away, her hair tearing painfully and when he realized that he was hurting her, he let go.
It was too much for him, as her hands moved expertly up and down his penis. Deep within him, he felt the gushing molten lava that screamed for release. Arching his back, he buried his face into her shoulder and came. It was bliss. It was sweet release from the tight confines of fleshly prison. “Chloe…” He whispered as he met her grin.
“Now…”She purred bring his chin up so that his face was mere inches from hers. “Do you always go around sticking your hands down women’s pants?”
He smiled, “Not always, only the beautiful, sexy ones.”
Chloe chuckled, “Oh, so that is quite often, then?”
“No. Not very often do I see someone who fits that description. It was the first time that I had.”
“Oh yeah?”
“And what about you? Letting strange men stick their hands down your pants?”
She chuckled, “Only the sexy, bald ones.”