It's always the quiet ones...

There had been enough loud and bad karaoke and goofy dancing that when the party wound down, it was all blankets and dim lights and a movie on the TV pretty quickly. I scored us a corner spot, out of people’s general attention areas – “You’re welcome, by the way.” I teased as you curled up under the blanket next to me.

But you see, your mistake was that you wore a skirt. Actually, knowing you, it wasn’t a mistake, was it? It was an invitation. One I had every plan to accept.

My hand started out just on your thigh. Just a little ‘hey you’re mine’ as the movie started up, and the conversations quieted down. It turned into ghosting touches of my fingertips, running in little circles that slowly crawled further and further up. The brushes were so soft they almost tickled you, and you let out a soft giggle.

I leaned in and brushed my lips against your ear. “Shh, baby. Don’t want to get caught.” Not that the people attending would have been shocked. I’d been a few more incentives away from stripping you down and fucking you in the middle of the crowd, earlier. You’d been so god damn fucking tempting. Even more so than usual.

You bit your lip and nodded softly, and felt me smile against your neck. Nobody would mind a little neck kissing, after all. It wasn’t at all suspicious for me to leave a hickey or two on you while my fingers played with the edge of your underwear. And if it was, who gave a fuck? So they’d know. Bet you they wouldn’t say anything, just get off to it thinking about it later and being envious of you.