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It was no one’s fault but my own, but as I swayed to the music, sweat slowly trailing down my temples, I felt light-headed, a little woozy, and overheated.
But I couldn’t stop, not when the feeling of being lost in the best way consumed me. I let my fingers trail over my hair and picked up the heavy fall off my neck. The air inside was humid and sticky, but even so, the breeze that was kicked up by the moving bodies cooled my nape.
I continued to move my hips back and forth, feeling the music deep in every part of my body. My heart beat to the bass of the song, and I grew even more lost in the sensations. It was a heady feeling, almost erotic. I wondered if this was akin to the euphoria you felt during sex.
I felt someone move behind me and knew it was a male without looking. I could see his much larger shadow cover me, smelled his cologne mixed with sweat surrounding me. His body heat made me sweat even more, but I didn’t stop dancing.
He didn’t touch me, but every once in a while, his limbs would brush against mine. I felt this almost disgust coast over me at the sensation but pushed it away like I did every time. Another thing I assumed made me “not normal”… the lack of enjoying another’s touch.
I’d tried searching for what was “wrong” with me. Found there was a disorder called haphephobia. An anxiety disorder characterized by the fear of being touched.
But I wasn’t afraid of affection, wasn’t afraid of someone getting too close. I just felt this crushing disgust when a man was too close, when he skated his fingers along my body, when his breath brushed my skin. It had every part of me tightening in discomfort. It had always been that way since I was a teenager, but I’d never had the strength to tell someone about it, never wanted to share something that seemed so intimate to another soul.
So what was wrong with me that just the thought of a man touching me had my body shriveling up, yet at the same time, all I could fantasize about was a faceless man coming to me in my dreams and doing things others would deem depraved, sadistic, and masochistic in nature?
God, I am fucked up.
I pushed my thoughts away and focused on the reason I was here. Because it was a moment in time that allowed me to not obsess over what was the matter with me, and it just let me feel.
As much as I’d prefer to be alone right now, I was in the middle of a nightclub, so having men come up and try to dance with me wasn’t exactly a shock. And although I didn’t like when they touched me, put their hands on my shoulders, down my arms, or gripped my waist, as long as they didn’t try anything else, I gritted through the uncomfortable sensations and focused on me.
After a while, his hands slid down my sides and found purchase on my hips. He tried to pull me back against him, but I held my place and dug my feet more firmly into the floor. Thankfully he took the hint and didn’t try bringing me closer—or so I thought. A moment later his warm, alcohol-smelling breath wafted along the side of my neck, the scent of sweat so strong on him that it was almost too much to bear.
“God, you’re hot.” He tried pulling me back again. I was about to disengage the situation altogether, when suddenly his body was off mine so forcefully I stumbled forward.
A wave of dizziness assaulted me, and I turned around, but I didn’t see anyone but couples grinding together. A second later the wave of bodies ate up the minuscule space that had been left by my “dance partner.”
That same tingling on the back of my neck I’d felt all night was back again and fiercer than ever. But no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find the source.
I did a slow circle, and although no one was watching me, I swore they were, hidden among all these bodies, camouflaged in plain sight.
And then I felt someone move close behind me. It wasn’t the sensation of a wayward dancer coming up to me. It was a strong presence that caused me to be hot and cold all in the same breath. It was painful and… something more.
I was about to turn around when large hands cupped my waist. I looked down and saw how big and long the fingers were, how his palms were so broad they nearly engulfed my abdomen.
And then I was struck by the sensation of… everything. No disgust, no discomfort.
I was pulled back and connected with a very hard, very broad chest. My eyes closed on their own. I couldn't breathe, my head fuzzy, dizzy. My body was alive, as if electricity was moving up and down my arms and legs.
I wanted to figure out why I felt like this for the first time in my life, but everything short-circuited. It was a sensation overload. It had me leaning back against this stranger and feeling his fingers tighten against my hip bones. It had me absorbing how good it sounded when I heard him breathe deeply beside my ear.
He smelled incredible, spicy and dark, with hints of a metallic aroma that reminded me of something, but my mind was too sluggish to put a name to it.
We started moving far too slowly to go with the beat of the music but in a way that was wholly sexual. And I didn’t have it in me to stop. In fact, I found myself leaning back fully, my head resting on his chest, his hands painfully—and so perfectly—gripping me around my hips as he kept me in place.
I could feel how hard he was for me, his erection like an iron rod digging against my back. And for the first time in my life, I felt the rush of desire, the heat of arousal… wetness spilling from between my thighs.
I was vaguely aware of my hair being pushed over one shoulder, and as if my body was working on an instinctive level, I tipped my head to the side. I bared my throat and closed my eyes as we continued to move slowly together. The more seconds that passed, the more intimate and sexual the dancing became.
I started breathing harder, sweat trickling down the valley of my breasts, down the length of my spine. And then his lips were at the side of my throat, moving slowly up and down, lapping at the no-doubt saltiness of my perspiration right over my pulse point. It was pleasure and pain, softness and sharpness, as I felt the scrape of his teeth along the hollow right beneath my ear.
And I want more.
There was a sharp sting at my neck, and I gasped, not from pain but from the burst of pleasure I felt from it. Even over the loud music, I heard his growl, felt the vibrations from it as if he was just as turned on as I was.
The world shifted as I was suddenly turned around, my hands instinctively flattening on the hard planes of his chest while I tipped my head back, and back, back until I could look into his face. God, he’s so big, so tall. His shoulders were broad, his chest so wide it blocked out everything else behind him.
It was as if I was in a secluded area with him, that there weren’t a hundred people all around us. I was sweating even more, and it had nothing to do with the oppressive heat in the club and everything to do with the fierce rush of blood through my veins that heated my body and made the arousal a comfort that settled deep within my core.
