Aggregate Knowledge

“Imagine your sitting naked in a box.”

      That is what she whispered into my ear while her ivory coloured hand skimmed against my goose pimpled flesh, and her perky tits hugged my bicep. Not a syllable more was muttered, just that quick cryptic phrase, and her warm breath against my earlobe.  Her blonde hair swaying in time with her slender hips as she glides away from me. Black pumps push up and tight jeans cling, causing her supple ass to ebb and flow like the tide, my eyes feel like twin moons, trying to pull her back my way.  The lights flash to the music, as my mind flashes back too her words.

“Imagine your sitting naked in a box.”

     I stand in the middle of this crowded dance floor, alone. She, like a phantom has disappeared into a dark corner, the club slurping her up, like a slurp my rum and coke. I feel glued to this spot, like a tree, rooted in confusion and wonderment. Like a lost child, waiting for her to return to me and take me home. I try and imagine, why she chose me to entice, but I know that this will do me no good. So, I down the rest of my drink in one big gulp, one dose of liquid courage, before I follow after my sultry spectre. I can almost smell her trail across the bar, vanilla and sin. Reminds me of trying to steal a cookie before dinner, when I was a child. I feel young, and I can’t  quite explain why. I spot her leaning against a wall, a margarita in her hand, a straw balanced between her juicy lips. Once again her words reverberate through my mind.

“Imagine your sitting naked in a box.”

     I am not so sure I want to even go over to her, but my legs betray my mind, and I try to come up with the perfect reply in my mind. Playing over every possible thing I could say, not wanting to ruin, what I already considered impossible. Then a though stampedes through my mind. “What if she was fucking with you?, She’s young, sexy and totally out of your league.” I turn quickly, veering myself towards the bar, still close enough to formulate a strategy, but not on a collision course with failure any more.

I plop myself into a stool and ask the bartender for a rum and coke, and get a “yeahsirrr” and plastic smile. I drop  a five down, and the smile fades. I sip my drink and think over the odds, of actually  being able to explore the girl, that will now not stop invading my thoughts. I sit and I can almost feel her breath on my neck and her tits pushed against my back. And her hand snaking it’s way around my hips and onto my semi hard cock.

That’s when I see her doll like hand, and realize I am not daydreaming and go to turn around, but she slides into the stool beside me. She looks at me with scanning eyes and a quizzical smile and says “Close your eyes”. I feel a little silly, but I don’t care. I close my eyes and I wait for whatever is coming next. I feel her hand on my inner thigh, and her lips inches from mine, I can taste her, she is so close. Then I feel her lifting up my shirt and she starts to scratch me, but wait its not a scratch it feels more like a snake biting my flesh. The next thing I know I feel like my skin is being cooked from the inside out and the last thing I remember are her words.

“Imagine your sitting naked in a box.”

End of part 1.