Image credits: halayalex

His Midnight Snack

The house throbbed with a bass so deep it vibrated through my chest, practically begging me to move.

“House music, molly, sequin dress, no panties,” I had told him, watching his eyes widen in a funny way. He said yes quickly, maybe even before I finished my little list of enticements. I knew, right then, it was going to be a good night. A very good night.

We swallowed our pills earlier, and now the living room was our playground. The energy was infectious. I felt the familiar warmth creeping in, a tingling shiver that started deep inside and spread outward.

It was a small party, thankfully. Just me and my date, my best friend and her ridiculously handsome man, and another couple who radiated pure joy. Their laughter was contagious, and I felt myself smiling without even realizing it.

My boyfriend was attractive, sure, but the way he watched me dance… that was what really got me going. The way his eyes followed the sway of my hips in that ridiculously sparkly dress…

The molly hit, and he moved behind me almost immediately, pressing his body against mine, following my rhythm. I arched my back slightly while he held my waist firmly.

“Feel that? That’s all you, baby… dancing like that. I’m gonna fuck you tonight… I just don’t know where yet,” he whispered.

I spun around, my hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, and I kissed him deeply. He dropped his hand, tracing a line up my inner thigh, his finger lingering and teasing me. He found my soaking wet slit easily.

“Looks like someone’s ready,” he whispered in my year.

He played with my pussy, slipping a finger inside me, then circling my clit. God, it felt amazing. He pulled his finger out, bringing it up between our faces. We kissed with his finger between our lips, licking it. I locked eyes with him, and we both smiled. He knew. I knew. We both knew exactly how good that tasted.

We kissed and danced some more, letting the music carry us. Our friends were laughing, smiling, and it all felt incredibly good. I lost myself in the shared joy of the moment.

I felt a tug on my wrist. He was pulling me out of the living room, and I followed obediently. He led me toward the bathroom. I needed no explanation. Once inside, I climbed onto the sink counter immediately, my legs spread wide. My dress hiked up around my waist, revealing everything. We said nothing. He knelt down and buried his face in my pussy. He held my thighs, his grip tight, and started to lick me. He worked my clit well, it was almost unbearable. He was devouring me.

I came quickly, my legs clamping down around his head. He didn’t even care, he kept going while I was a writhing, moaning mess. His face was messy, covered with my juices. He fingered me, exploring everything, even teasing my tight little asshole. I came again, louder this time, with a long, drawn-out cry that echoed in the small room.

I caught my breath eventually and slid off the counter.

“Come on,” I told him. “I want to dance.”

I wanted to feel the music, to feel him, to lose myself again in that glorious feeling.

Back in the living room, the party roared around us. They cheered when we rejoined them, all hugs and laughter. The molly made their joy feel like my own. My best friend kissed his cheek and shouted, “Dude, you smell like pussy!”

She pretended to lick his cheek playfully. I think I froze for a second, mortified, but the room erupted in laughter, breaking the tension. I couldn’t even pretend I was mad.

The night continued. People disappeared and reappeared. Where did they go? What did they do? I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was high, happy, and surrounded by good energy. It was perfect.