Sunday Night Out

I went out dancing last night. It had been a busy week, work had been full on. I wanted some distraction, so I popped a pill just before midnight and went out just after midnight.

I found good music and a pretty crowd, sweaty, and enthusiastically dancing. One of my favourite DJs was playing. It's what I needed, a good, mindless dance. 

Yvonne was there, lurking on the edge of the dance floor, the way she does, always on the lookout, as cool as you like, so I got another pill and I popped that too.

“Yvonne?”

“Josh?”

“You having a good night?”

“It’s a bit quiet.”

“Can I make is busier in a small way?”

“What?”

“Pill?”

“How many?”

“One?”

“A very small way.”

“It’s okay?”

“I’m not standing here for my good looks.”

“No.”

“I’m glad I can write that off with you being gay.”

“Oaky.”

“Here.”

“Thanks. The usual?”

“Transfer?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a gem.”

“I know.”

The lights were good. The music was just fine. I got on the dance floor and danced. I love that feeling of getting high and getting on that non-stop dancing high.

That crowd was good looking, I perved freely, you know how your inhibitions evaporate with drugs, mine certainly do.

I flirted with a cute Italian boy. Nice smile, thick dark hair. Beautiful eyes, big and brown. We danced and smiled. He was with a girlfriend. They shared each other's water.

I popped another pill. My eyes bled. My teeth clenched. My head floated to the roof and floated there on a wave. Bobbing. I couldn't see. My teeth ground. My sense of balance faltered from this plane to the next.

Faces appeared and floated away. The Italian boy asked me something, but the ringing in my ears masked his words. He smiled. I got the sense I was supposed to answer. It seemed funny. That disconnection, half floating on another plane. My eyes bulged as I tried to focus. I laughed. I was smiling. I couldn't stop smiling.

He took my hand and we were rushing through the crowed, suddenly. People swayed into view and then out. He was always just passed the next person, but his hand gripped me tightly.

Cold. The light was suddenly florescent. There were tiles. Everyone was stopped. Milling. It was bright. Hot lights. I shielded my face.

Italian boy said thanks, to someone. Everything rushed if I opened my eyes. Blur.

I was being pushed backwards. It was darker, the brightness was gone. There was a wall behind me.

“I want to blow your mind,” he said.

“I think I’ve already done that,” I said.

My belt was being undone. The buttons on my fly. My legs were suddenly cold.

He took my cock in his mouth. My hard cock was suddenly in his mouth, wet and warm. You’ve got to love that feeling. 

I was suddenly hot. Sweating. The air was thin.

He sucked good, it felt great. My head spun so hard, I thought I was going to puke. His mouth was wet, and warm, and relentless. My last E gushed in my eyes. And so did I, heat, hot, fuck, right into his mouth.

He sucked. It felt great. I took his thick hair in my hands and pushed his head up and down on my cock. He swallowed excess saliva. He sucked until I jumped. And suddenly I was close. Then I was there. He wasn’t stopping. I didn’t want him to stop. Then I couldn’t stop. I was there. I was cumming. He was still sucking. My cock was down his throat when I started to cum. I spasmed and spasmed and spasmed as I shot load after load after load down his throat and he swallowed every last drop without missing a beat.

He stood up and wiped his face. “You look like you needed that,” he said.

I wasn’t sure that I needed it, but it was fucking great. I pulled my pants up and headed back to the dance floor.

My legs were shaking still, I thought I was maybe going to fall over. That made me laugh.

I just did my jeans up, my trunks were slimed, I could feel it. The Italian boy had me by the hand. Fluorescent lights. Harsh. I squinted.

“Do you want to wash your hands,” he said. He squeezed my hand, as he spoke. I thought he was nice.

Sweating, rushing, dizzy, out of body, that's how I felt. Serviced. Done. I saw a couple of distorted faces rush at me and then rush away.

Dark. Cold. Crashing through doors.

Doof. Doof. Doof. Hot. Sweaty. Heat.

He smiled sweetly back at me and the crowd parted. His friend was next to him with the water. They both glanced back.

The lights flashed. The groove came and got me. I needed to dance. My head was spinning.