I was at my favorite club. With my favorite clubbing partner. A guy I’ve known since high school. We were there just to dance. Neither of us was looking to hook up. We just wanted to dance.
This is my favorite club for a couple of reasons. It’s a gay club and that’s where I tend to be most comfortable. This particular club attracts men and women both. It has a huge dance floor and the djs are fabulous. They spin and the beat never ever stops. As the night goes on and the dance floor fills it takes on a very fluid vibe. There’s lots of touching and being touched. People aren’t afraid to just dance together. Regardless of gender or orientation.
It was still early when I saw her for the first time. She was dancing near me. I caught glimpses of her through the crowd. She was hot. She was in jeans and a black wife beater. Her hair was long, dark, and wavy. I admired her from afar and went back to dancing.
She’d noticed me too. She made her way over to me and we began to move together with the music. Hands on each other’s hips. Resting lightly. Feeling the rhythms of our bodies. She turned to face away from me and pressed back against me. My arm wrapping around her waist and holding her close. She was a few inches shorter than me. I found my nose buried in her hair. She smelled like ivory soap. Fresh and clean and soft.
We danced for a while and then wandered away. Each of us headed in our own directions. My friend and I went off to the bar for a drink. Vodka and cranberry is my weapon of choice in a hot, sweaty club. We stood at the railing and looked down over the dance floor. I didn’t see her. I assumed she’d left.
Eventually my friend and I returned to the dance floor. I got lost in the music pretty quickly. Till I heard a voice in my ear.
“There you are.”
I turned to find her in front of me once again. She reached out her hand and ran a solitary finger from my collar bone to the valley between my breasts. I grinned and pulled her into me. Touching her soft lips with mine. Kissing her deeply. And then we danced. I turned her so that I could lose myself in the music and the scent of her hair. She reached back to rest her hand on my hip and I cupped one of her breasts as we moved.
There were no other kisses. I never got her name or her number. She was just one of those random club chicks. But I have never forgotten her. The saucy way she ran that finger down my skin. How soft her body felt against mine. I can still smell her hair.