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I’m a quiet guy. Shy, a wallflower. I don’t get out much, and I like it that way. But when my roommate, Jeff, throws a party at our house, a birthday party for himself, he insists I come out of my room and join the festivities, and no excuse in the land will save me.

There’s dozens of people over, chatting, laughing, dancing, having fun. Some of them I recognize, most I don’t. None of them are my friends. I grab a drink just for something to do and stand by myself, true to my calling, against the wall in the corner of the living room. I pretend to be interested in the laptop of the guy playing DJ, mentally counting down the minutes before it’s socially acceptable for me to return to the safety and comfort of my own solitude.

I glance around the room, wanting to spot Jeff, see if I can wish him a ‘happy birthday’ and be done with this. How does even know so many people?

My eye catches on someone looking at me. She’s this cute, petite brunette with a serious look on her face, one of Jeff’s co-workers I think. It’s just for an instant before I glance away, the moment there and gone. She’s probably gossiping to her friends, wondering what a dweeb like me is doing here.

Jeff’s busy, in a circle of his friends, all clinking beers together and laughing. I don’t want to interrupt him. Maybe I’ll just sneak out and he won’t notice.

But then the guy playing at DJ shouts, “Alright, Jeff, we need you on the dancefloor. This is your song!” And I think this is my opportunity to disappear, except with everyone crowded in my living room, I can’t get past.

So I remain stuck against the wall, a grimace on my face that I hope passes for a smile.

As the music bumps, everyone dances and writhes and moves around grinding against each other. Everyone else, I should say.

The crowd swirls and surges and spills towards me, and I try to move away, but there’s nowhere for me to go. Someone ends up pressed against me, a girl. I try to politely push her back into the crowd, but she returns as soon as I let go, her ass against my crotch.

She’s dancing with friends of hers, other girls, oblivious to me and my awkwardness, her shimmering green dress twisting this way and that as she moves. Her butt swings side to side, right on my lap, and I feel guilty, but it’s sort of hot. Her waist is narrow and her hips are wide, and much as I try to get away, I can’t help but admire the roundness of her butt.

The song changes, and I think, finally this ordeal is over. But she and her friends remain in place, dancing anew, with new moves. Some of her friends are paired up with partners, but she’s not, she’s all alone rubbing her butt against me.

I grab her waist to guide her away from me, back to the revelers, but she mistakes my action. She arches her back, resting her head against my chest while she grinds into my hips, her face turned to the side, eyes closed as she moves with the music.

For some reason, I keep my hands on her waist. She’s slim, her figure trim and firm, and then I realize who it is, the brunette girl from earlier.

I gasp in epiphany, and she lays her hands on mine, pulling them up her body. They travel up her belly, over her ribs, and them I’m cupping her tight, svelte chest.

She bites her lip, looking content as she grinds against me, as I feel her up.

Between the groping and grinding, my cock starts to stiffen. When she feels this, she spins around and winks at me. She takes my hand, drags me to the middle of the crowd, and then, I don’t know how it happens, but I’m dancing with her.

I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, just jumping back and forth I guess, but she doesn’t seem to mind or care or even notice. I try to lift my hands from her, I don’t want to be a creep, but she pushes them back, onto her hips, then down, until I’m grabbing her ass, groping it, holding her against me.

She wraps her arms over my shoulders, linking them behind my neck, and pulls my head down to hers. It all happens so fast that I’m kissing her before I even realize, before my introvert brain has time to object. But my thoughts catch up, and then I’m hyper-aware that I’m in a crowd of people making out with a stranger, and I get tense, nervous.

Yet, as I look around, much as is feasible with my lips on hers, nobody seems to care. And I even manage to relax, just a little, and enjoy the kiss.

The song changes again, but she doesn’t stop dancing with me even in the pause between tracks. I am way beyond my comfort zone, but I think I’m getting the hang of this, grabbing her ass, making out with this cute girl.

And just when I think I have the situation figured out, maybe possibly under control, she breaks away. It’s the middle of a song, too. I hadn’t considered exit strategies, but I didn’t think it would be this.

She’s turned away from me, pushing through the crowd. She’s leaving me, all alone on the dancefloor, sweaty and turned on. I can feel my stomach begin to rise–

But there’s tugging on my arm, and I don’t know how I missed this, but she’s holding my hand, pulling me with her.

Oh.

I swallow, calm down, and let her lead me.

She parts her way through the people like they’re not there, heading towards the hallway. Two steps down, the noise of the music is just slightly quieter, and she shouts into my ear, “Which room’s yours?”

Dumb, oblivious, completely not understanding, I point.

Inside, the door closed and locked behind us, the music is muted enough that we could have a conversation. But we don’t. She pushes me on my bed, straddling my lap, lips pressed against mine. She pulls my shirt off as we kiss. My hands are on her ass, that gloriously round ass, and I tentatively reach under her dress.

She doesn’t stop me, so I pull it up, bunch it at her waist, my fingers running over the bare skin of her butt. She’s not wearing any underwear, I find, and my dick stiffens.

She climbs off me, leaving me forlorn. What did I do wrong?

“Stand,” she instructs.

I do, and she unhooks my belt and pulls my pants and shorts down like she’s an expert. She kneels in front of me, lips parted and glistening, shooting me a wry smile. My dick hangs in her face, half erect.

I urge it to grow harder, to not embarrass me with limpness, but of course that’s not how it works.

Once again, she doesn’t care. She grabs it, pumping the base of my shaft with her fist. She brings the tip of my cock to her mouth, and then she’s sucking on it, too.

Soon, I’m stiffer than even I was hoping, an intense erection, an onslaught of pleasure from her pumping and licking. I wondered she was cute before, but seeing her with my dick in her mouth, she’s glorious, the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.

She looks up, takes in the expression on my face — it must be awe, it’s all I’m feeling — and giggles around my cock. She grabs the base, swings my dick back and forth across her lips, her outstretched tongue, rubs it on her cheek.

I moan, it’s so hot.

She grins, stands. “Sit,” she says, pointing at my bed.

Sitting, I watch as she does this little dance in front of me, a striptease really, her hips swinging side to side as she pulls her dress up and over her head. Her pussy’s bare and puffy and pink, and she makes a show of rubbing it, spreading it open with her fingers.

I stare at her like she’s a goddess, and she giggles.

She spins around, sticking her ass out, round and amazing, bumping it against me, against my cock. She reaches behind her back, unclasps her bra, tosses it apart. Then she turns to face me, a proud smile on her face as she presents her naked self, sexy and lithe and perfect.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter.

“You wanna fuck?”

“Yes.” I reach for her.

“Then lay back,” she instructs.

I rest on my elbows, watching her climb onto my bed, straddling my legs. She grins at me, maneuvering herself over my hips. She grabs my shaft, stroking it, guiding it, and then she sits on it.

And the pleasure just explodes in me. Her pussy, it’s so tight, so hot, so wet. And seeing my dick slide inside her petite little frame, watching my cock fill her up, stretch her wide, it’s just so incredible.

She starts slowly, rolling her hips, riding me like I’m a horse. She takes my hands, brings them to her tits, two tight little handfuls perfectly sized for her frame. I play with her nipples while she fucks me, and she bites her lip in pleasure.

She works up her pace, taking me inside her with an increasingly quick rhythm, sitting down on my cock until my balls press against her ass.

“So deep,” she mutters, her forehead sticky with sweat, a wayward strand of hair falling down in front of her eyes. She pants, blowing it away, her cheeks flush.

I grab her hips, my arms flexing, muscles straining as I drive her harder and faster onto my cock.

She loves it, lips parting in pleasure, a happy daze growing on her face.

Yes, I need more of this. I fuck her harder, pushing my arms and hips and legs to their maximum, fucking the girl for all I’ve got.

“Fuck… yes…” she moans, pinching her nipples.

I keep going, my sinews screaming, but needing to see this gorgeous girl get off on my cock.

She shudders, groaning, head rolling back, eyes pinched closed. “Finish in me,” she mutters, “However you want.”

Well, ok.

I get her on her hands and knees, ass fat and round and glorious and in my face. I kneel behind her, hands on her waist for leverage, fucking her doggy style with fierce, acute thrusts. She moans in pleasure, but I’m past caring about that, focused now on my own need, on how hot it is to be fucking the cute dancing girl with the round ass.

When I cum, it feels deserved, an intense wave of relief washing through me as my cock pumps her full of spunk. I hold her in place until I’m done, using her tight pussy to milk myself dry.

After, I want to be a gentleman, do all the right things, but I’m exhausted, and I figure I can rest for a quick moment.

I wake up and it’s morning. Oh fuck. I look around the place, see my discarded clothes. I’m concerned, did I dream that? But there’s a note on the blanket, one of my index cards scrawled with an anonymous message, “Thanks for the fun night — XO XO.”

It’s not for another two days before Jeff says anything about his party. “Abbey was asking about you, you know.”

I frown. “Abbey?”

“The girl you were dancing with?”

Finally, a name to put to my experience. “Oh, yeah,” I look away, “Her. What’d she ask?”

“Just the usual, you know,” he says, playing casual, “What you’re like, if you’re with anyone, if you want to see her again.”

“Oh?” I force myself to stay calm, “And what’d you tell her?”

“Nothing you wouldn’t approve of,” he grins, “Just that you’re a colossal asshole, you’re married to an internet bride, and you thought she was an ugly hag.”

I must look horrified, because Jeff rolls his eyes and groans. “You stupid oaf, I gave her your contact yesterday. Check your fucking phone sometime.”

NSFW: yes

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