Lua barely registered the hand wrapping around her wrist as she jumped in time with the music. Thrashing limbs left after images in her vision nearly as entrancing as the lights that flashed about and amongst them. Suddenly, the hand the pulling through the throng, gliding past bodies drenched in sweat, pushed up against each other. The base pulsed through her, her blood and body fighting to echo the rhythm. For a moment, she fought the hand, not caring that she recognized the silver-dusted skin covering it, just wanting to lose herself in the sea of people once more. One more tug though, and she was sprawling onto the open floor ringing the dancers. Cool (well, cooler) air sighed around her body and a bottle of heaven-sent, bubbly water was pressed against her parched lips. “Drink,” a not unkind voice ordered. As he gulped the water, she met the eyes of Niko. He smiled shyly as Lua slyly took in his six-foot frame, all muscle under that beautiful skin. As he got older, Niko’s skin would turn completely silver before tarnishing as an elder, but, for now, it only shimmered wondrously. Sadly, Niko was also her best friend and the one male that would not entirely cross any boundaries with her. How she ached to run her fingers through his dark, tousled hair, let her lips trace their way along his square jaw. The only time he got carried away with her was when he was fairly intoxicated though. That thought instantly perked Lua up. Perhaps there was a chance for fun tonight after all. Niko eventually took the bottle from her and spread his arms wide, taking in the area around him. “Lua, welcome to The Fairy Den!” Lua promptly stuck her tongue out at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, Niko, I’ve been here.” True, she h... ... middle of paper ... ...y think she can get enough for all of us for free or am I going to owe her? I really do not relish the thought of being indebted to your sister. She’s a schemer.” “Ki?” Lua scoffed. “If her cleavage doesn’t impress that guy, her sun-eyes certainly will.” Keegan, the Sun-Child with the eyes to match. Where most peoples’ irises would hold one color, Keegan’s mimicked the sun. While it was a bit much to handle during the day, all blazing golds and yellows, at night, it held the last vestiges of the day’s sunset. Crimson, orange, and pink spilled into each other in a display few could help but adore. As a Moon-Child, Lua’s showed the opposite. Her eyes followed the moon through its phases. At the moment, they should have been glowing with the nearly full moon. However, the moonrocks had rendered them eclipsed with all the dark shadows of a new moon instead.
Loraine continued, “Your spirit fills the room just as the paintings do. Haven't you noticed, you've captured the eye of everyone here?"
A dark intensity shone from his eyes, and ducking his head, trailed his tongue over the firm edge of Booker’s jawline. Their lips met, pressing and caressing, savoring each other’s flavors with sweeping tongues and hungry mouths. But Tom wanted to explore and curbing his fervor, his lips left the sensual curve of Booker’s mouth and moved slowly along his stubbled cheek until he found an earlobe. Using his teeth, he lightly nibbled the smooth flesh. Sensing Booker wanted more contact, he buried his face in the crook of his lover’s neck, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of scotch and aftershave before brushing a kiss over the sensitive spot just below his ear. A soft murmur caught his attention, and smiling against the taut skin, he continued his exploration, his tongue trailing a wet path down to the hollow of Booker’s throat. His mouth nipped and sucked at the firm, inviting flesh, moving slowly downward until he reached a nipple. He grazed the nub with his teeth and was immediately rewarded with a moan of approval. His tongue flicked over the raised mound, teasing the tight skin before lightly mouthing over the warm flesh. Taking the nipple into his mouth, his soft lips sucked the brown areola, the tender caress eliciting an excited moan from above. When gentle hands entwined in his
Also, balance was seen when one dancer would carry the other dancer when he has fallen without both falling. Moreover, the dancers used many gestures, such as hand movements like trying to lure in the audience in understanding and empathizing with their dance. These gestures were simple, but connected well with the audience. Rhythm in this dance was like a pattern, it would follow the mood of the dance to demonstrate motivation, optimism, distress and discouragement. Their rhythmic movements were so in sync that they were on beat with the low tempo music most of the time. To me, the dance piece was like seeing a contemporary piece that was trying to tell a very deep and personal story. It was a dance that displayed and showed a story that encompasses a great amount of emotion and passion. The audience was very responsive during the dance and certainly after, this was because the movements and gestures connected with them. This particular dance had touched the audience on not just a superficial level, but more on an internal level. The audience could be seen almost tearing up because the story that the dancers were showing was full of substance and
The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
Suddenly, Sara's light step halted and she turned to face me. From her hazel eyes blazed an intensity of exhilaration and courage, which mingled with pride and concern as she surveyed my resolute expression. I watched longingly as Sara unfastened the Nalgene bottle from her side; one sip of water sloshed tantalizingly at the bottom of the bottle, heightening my senses into acute desire. Sweat poured down from my face, biting at my eyes, and after I dabbed at them with my shirt, I saw Sara was presenting the water bottle to me. Both anticipating and squelching my refusing, Sara said simply, "Drink, Stacy. Yo...
When his gaze met Jorge's, he saw a look of complete trust laced with deep, sexual longing shining from the soft, brown eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. He started slow, and as his hands caressed the young Latino's broad chest, he found himself falling into a powerful, hypnotic state. Time stood still; the sensation of Jorge’s smooth, flawless flesh beneath his fingers the only thought occupying his mind, and when his thumb grazed the raised nub of his lover’s nipple, he took an almost hedonistic delight in the gasp of pleasure that resonated around the
When Oceane walked through the door, he was the first thing she saw. One glance is all she would take, she thought to herself. His hair, a rich shade of dark blonde, caught her eye first. Her eyes quickly raked over the rest of him, noting his russet eyes and strong jawline, his ratty band tee and skinny jeans. Oceane forced herself to look away, but couldn’t help looking back at him as she walked by. He instantly captivated her because he didn’t look like everyone
“I had no knowledge of this. I just met him at the club down the road. We decided to go for a ride. I’ve known him for no more than an hour!” She explained as the eyes turned on her.
With that, she pulled him close, pulling his lips to her’s. She tasted like jasmine and sea salt, like jungle rain and wild flowers. When he was kissing her, he felt the spark between the two of them. His body was on fire, except he like the way that it burned. With one of his hands on her waist, and the other in her hair, it seemed as if she was really there. It seemed as if she was alive again. In that moment, the world was weightless, and only consisted of the two of them. When they broke apart, their foreheads touched.
Once I let my thoughts return to the music, I knew what lie ahead of me. I tapped the nearest "big guy" on the shoulder and pointed towards the ceiling; the universal signal on the concert floor. He nodded, grabbed my foot, and pushed me on top of the crowd. Once I was up there was no turning back. Soon strong hands were surfing me towards the stage. I had the best view in the house and reveled in the moment. I was fueled by an adrenaline rush that was only heightened by the fusion of the music and the energy of the crowd.
Once back at the bar, Rapunzel placed her hand against the counter, her fingers tapping against the counter. Her head bobbing along to the tone of the music. Her eyes studied the crowded dance floor, she watched as more and more people squeezed their ways out onto the dance floor. She shook her head from side to side, she wondered just how many people were going to try and squeeze their way onto the dance floor. She was for sure this party was going to last all night, which meant a lot of business for the club. She tilted her head from side to side, a sigh escaping her lips.
Whatever mild irritation she had about losing her train of thought was instantly forgotten when she looked over to see why. The large seats offered plenty of space - at least to someone Alison's side - but the man who settled in beside her looked like he could barely be contained, and his rugged appearance at once prompted her angular, dark brows to shoot up in curiosity. She found herself drawn to his mouth as he spoke, then she batted her thick lashes and looked up to his eyes as they showed an endless delight when he motioned to the
Golden lights cast long shadows across her face and on her smile, sweet like cinnamon. Her fingers encased in his grip and her eyes fawning over him.
Lulissa had been running all day, sweat was dripping downwards from her normally clean and dry face. She had hid in a dank and dark alleyway for at least ten minutes now. She crouched low behind a nearby dumpster while holding her nose as she saw beams of light beaming out from the entrance to the alleyway.
The spirits of past performers possessed my body and, I could not hold back any longer. My voice cracked as I let out a blood-curtailing yell marking the beginning of my performance. My choreographed routine was trumped by the urge to freestyle! The spotlights cascaded on each twist and turn of my body, reflecting the multitude of colors in my headdress and regalia. Each dance movement was with precision and confidence. The crowd stood, cheering me on, which only fueled my desire to push my body further than ever before. Controlled insanity swept to the left, then to the right. My feet stomped to the beating drums. I traversed the entire dance circle over and over again and then the beating drums stopped. It was all over. I gave it my all and, it was now in the hands of the