Talk Dirty With Me

Dancer is impossibly lovely. A vision out of a 60's movie. And I'm honestly awed that she's sitting at my table.

Dancer is nervous. First night in a new club. So we sit and we talk. I don't often have girls sit and talk with me, so I'm nervous too. But we click and the talk is natural and comfortable.

And Dancer shares herself with me. Her life, her likes, her needs, her fetishes. And the talk is refreshingly honest. And it's very hot. And then it's downright pornographic. And we're soulmates - what she needs is who I am. She wants to be taken - I want to take. And I'm so aroused you could hang a 10 lb weight off my cock. (It's a word she likes - cock. "Tell me to 'Suck my cock' not 'Suck my dick'. Dick is rude")

And we take my aroused self to the couch and we dance. And as her body grazes over mine our conversation replays in my head and I'm entranced. And she's nervous and giggly, but sexy and smooth. And it's awesome.

And there's other nights. And we talk and we dance. Extended dancetime that's the almost-makeout at it's most intense. And we click. What would we be like truly together? White hot passion.

to my Dancer: thank you, baby