Note: I’d like to start contributing some of my creative writing to this blog. I know updates are few and far between these days, but I’m working on other things and believe it would help me do more of what I wanted if I shared some of my work with you. I hope to do more soon and visit this blog more often. There’s a lot down the pike for me and it’s time I stop being a hoarder and actually show you what I’ve been working on. Enjoy.

This story is Not Safe For Work – Ages 17+ recommended.

Seriously. You have been warned.

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“I hate the gym!”

The door slammed shut as he heard the faint click of her locking the bottom lock. She stomped into the small studio apartment, dropping her heavy gym bag down by her feet next to the barstools that served as the dining room chairs.

He broke eye contact with the words of Stephen King’s It but didn’t move from the couch. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked down at her bag and crossed her arms. A long “ughhhh” slid out of her as she collapsed forward, leaned on the island counter and buried her head in her forearms. He could only shake his head. She was being dramatic for dramatic’s sake, nothing more. Nothing new for her.

He sighed. “What happened at the gym?”

“Nothing happened,” she semi-shouted as she popped her head up, “I just hate going. I don’t wanna do it. It’s too haaaard.” The final word, drawn out and whiny with a vocal fry made him wince. He leaned forward and grabbed his bookmark, stuck it firmly between the pages and closed the cover.

“Okay, so it’s hard,” he stated. “But it’s working. I think you’re looking better already.”

Her head fell back down onto her arms as she glared at him, a scowl growing on her face. “What, I didn’t look good before?”she grumped. It was a response meant only to give him a hard time, and he knew it.

Still, he rolled his eyes. “Of course you looked good before. You’d look good if you weighed ten-thousand pounds. But it was your decision to get back into the gym, don’t forget.”

She didn’t forget. But it didn’t make her trials and tribulations maneuvering around the sweaty gym any easier. “Okay, fine,” she relented, “Can’t I just whine about it a little more?”

“No, you can’t,” he said pointedly, taking the glasses off his face and folding them next to his book. He settled further into the couch and stared at her. “What?”

What what?” Her glare disappeared as she knelt down toward her bag. She grabbed her towel, work clothes and heels and flipped them out onto the floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick them up,” she said, cutting him off before he had a chance to scold her for leaving clothes everywhere. He smiled.

They sat in the silence for a moment, her hands akimbo, his resting in his lap. “What?” she inquired.

“Just looking,” he said.

She had to crack a small smile before glancing down at her body. “I really look better already?” The workouts were doing her good, she could feel it. But it was always nice to hear an affirmation from someone else.

He nodded. “I see a difference.”

Her hand stretched across her belly, which admittedly felt like it was losing some of its puffiness. It assured her knowing her efforts weren’t in vain. She smiled. “Good, I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too,” he echoed, “Keep it up.”

She leaned forward, resting a hand on the counter. “I guess I will.”

He blinked slowly. “Good,” he said softly, ready to resign the conversation and turn his attention back to his book. But her eyes never left his. Her smile broadened, turning into a mischievous grin as she bit down on her lower lip.

Whatever was on her mind was enough to pique his interest. His eyes narrowed. “What?” he questioned again.

There was always a part of her that knew he preferred her thinner. Her curves were plentiful, and years of yo-yo diets and rigorous workouts never seemed to stick. Of course, he was never one to force her into what he wanted; all decisions to better herself came from her and her alone. And it wasn’t like her extra pounds kept him from rising to the occasion when the mood struck.

But she knew on some level what his ideal woman physically looked like. While she was his ideal woman, she knew it’d be better for the both of them if she could trim a few inches off her waistline. He, on the other hand, didn’t need to, but always expressed a desire to. Knowing she was on a new path for the both of them excited her, and something in her wanted to show it off.

“It’s quiet in here,” she mused.

“Well, I was reading,” he murmured, grasping the book and bringing it to his side.

She huffed. “Sorry. I just want to get some tunes going in here, if that’s okay.” She practically skipped over to her laptop, which was resting closed on the vanity table next to the bed. “They were playing so many good songs in the weight room today,” she said, opening up her laptop and booting up iTunes.

“Yeah, I noticed you left your iPod here,” he said, putting his glasses back on his face, “I put it back in the drawer for you.”

“Thanks,” she said, scrolling through her iTunes library. “They played this one today. I was just ecstatic.” A small click, and a soft rhythmic guitar started flowing out of the attached speakers.

He recognized it immediately. “Night Moves?”

Night Moves!” she exclaimed, “I couldn’t believe it! It’s so not a working out song but whoever had control of the satellite radio was all about the 70’s tonight. This is now my new favorite song.”

“What, you’ve never heard Night Moves before?” he teased.

She twirled around, her long, straight black ponytail nearly wrapping around her face. “Of course I’ve heard it before! There’s just a newfound appreciation for it!”

It took a minute for Bob Seger’s voice to kick in, but nonetheless, her hips began to sway in response to the gentle strumming of the strings. The song ignited something in her; a simpler time where feelings had no definition and being carefree was actually an attainable goal. It wrapped her up in its simplicity and sentimentality, and she couldn’t help but dance along as he watched.

 

She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes…

And points all her own sitting way up high…

 

Her hand glided up to her ponytail and in one swift motion she grabbed her hair tie, freeing her her long, cascading  locks down past her shoulders. He laughed and brought his hand up to his mouth, wondering how far she was planning on taking this.

“You gonna dance with me?” she asked.

“Absolutely not,” his reply nearly overlapped with her question.

She giggled. The hypnotic metronome of her hips rocking back and forth was barely interrupted as she stepped on her heels and kicked her sneakers off one at a time. “Fine then, I’ll strip for you.”

His laugh caught in his throat. “You’re-you’re going to what?” She had never done anything like that for him, ever, and curiously it was something he had never asked of her either. The idea intrigued him, but he didn’t let it show.

Her hands traveled down to the hem of her baggy old tee-shirt, emblazoned with her alma mater’s logo. It was admittedly the least sexy outfit possible for a strip tease, but she was having too much fun to care. “Sit over there,” she motioned with her head toward the small bench at the foot of the bed, lifting her shirt ever so slightly so he could see the tan flesh of her soft belly. He raised an eyebrow and stifled a laugh as he did what he was told.

 

Workin’ on mysteries without any clues…

Workin’ on our night moves…

 

The night moves moved through her in the late afternoon as she danced over to him, laughing at how calm and politely his hands sat in his lap. She moved closer, barely straddling his legs as she continued swaying her hips. She reached out and touched his shoulder, her other hand traveling through her hair. His grin never faltered, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

We were just young and restless and bored…

Livin’ by the sword…

 

“This is the weirdest striptease I’ve ever received,” he stated.

Her other hand fell to his shoulder. “Oh? And how many have you had?” she asked.

“Four,” he said without skipping a beat.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she pushed herself away from him. “My goodness! You kept track?”

He raised an eyebrow.

There was a little hint of jealousy creeping up inside her, wondering if he wouldn’t like hers as much as he liked those others. But it only pushed her to make this one the one he’d never forget.

Her hands slid down her sides, accentuating her hourglass figure and flared hips while she stood three feet from him. “What about this is so weird?” she cooed, jutting her breasts out ever so slightly.

“You’re not taking anything off,” he said. His patience astounded her, and she wondered at what point he’d ask her to stop.

But she had to admit he was right. “Hmm. Fine then, what should go first?”

 

Workin’ on our night moves…

Tryin’ to lose the awkward teenage blues…

 

“That’s up to you,” he said.

Up to her? It took everything in her not to die of embarrassment from the moment she started. She felt so silly, her cheeks must have been beet red the entire time. But she couldn’t help noticing his gaze never broke from hers. It made her swallow her shyness and make this everything he could have ever hoped for.

If only I were thinner. The idle thought passed through her mind as quickly as it arrived.

“You know,” she started, her hands migrating up toward her breasts, “If I work out too much, these are gonna go away.”

“You’re always going to have those,” he said, his eyes drifting down to watch her clasp her hands around them. They were large, more than a handful each, but it only meant more for him to grab.

She paused, only slightly offended, since every other time she had dropped the weight, they deflated. “You’ll like them big or small though,” she said, her palms tracing and outlining each orb.

“You’re right,” he answered.

She smiled and moved her fingers down, tugging at the hemline of her shirt, threatening to pull it off at any moment. The music slowed down as it headed to the bridge, giving her a perfect time to slip it off in one swift motion and gently toss it onto his face.

 

And it was summertime…

Sweet summertime summertime…

 

The shirt slid off his face, only catching on his nose for a brief moment. He studied her curvy bust, breasts barely crammed in the too-small black sports bra. But it only served to make her cleavage that much more ample. He pictured himself reaching out to feel her soft chest, gently kneading it and brushing his thumbs along her soft skin. She beat him to the punch and began grabbing at her breasts again.

“I like my titties big though,” her voice dropped to a husky whisper, “I bet they’re a lot of fun to cum on.”

He bit his lower lip as his dick got harder.

She leaned forward, giving him a much better view of her cleavage as her black hair spilled down around her shoulders. Her smile turned into an ear-to-ear grin as she considered straddling him again.

“You look amazing,” he said, “You’ve got such a beautiful body.”

“I know,” she smiled. He shook his head slightly, amused at her boldness as he watched her stand up straight and turn around.

The black yoga pants hugged her bottom just right; the glute machine was certainly giving more definition to the already-round shape. He licked his bottom lip and thought of burying himself between those cheeks, wishing to grab and cup her peachy posterior.

She made sure to give him a full view as she slowed the rhythm of her hips down a bit, keeping up with the guitar’s pace. Everything in her was on fire, she couldn’t wait to show him more and more. Even when she thought she had him right where she wanted him, she’d always want more.

Her thumbs slipped past her purplish waistband as she bent forward, bringing her pants down at a deliberately slow pace, revealing her black polka-dotted white panties. It was almost too much for him to bear, he wanted to reach out and grab her and feel every inch of her skin against his.

“No touching the dancers,” she grinned, as if she read his mind. She stepped out of her pants and stood up, not needing to touch her rear end to accentuate its curves. She thrust a hip out, flaring it out, making the roundness all the more prominent. Those thick thighs holding her rear up looked strong enough to climb up or hang a swing from.

 

And we waited on the thunder…

Waited on the thunder…

 

The song slowed to a crawl. Only the occasional strum of Seger’s guitar punctuated the air. Her tummy was poking out only slightly, pressed in by the stomach-holding waistband. It didn’t matter; at that moment, she had never felt sexier.

Ever so slowly, she walked toward him, unsure of her next course of action, but wanting to make it extra special. She reached out and touched his jean-covered knees with just her fingertips, dragging her nails upward toward his lap. His breathing grew shallow, but he couldn’t let her see him go crazy just yet. If she knew what he was thinking at the moment, she may not have been too keen on him.

Still, her hands left his body and traveled back up to her breasts.

“Started humming a song from 1962!” she sang as she leaned into him, getting ready to finish the next lyric and hiss out “night moves.”

But before she could, He grasped her bare waist, spun her around and threw her on the bed. She yelped; it had all happened so fast. She was weightless, like he had picked her up in a pool. And just as quickly as he threw her, he was on top of her, pressing his entire body weight in between her open legs.

“You’re such a shitty dancer,” he said between his gritted grin.

She gasped, partially at her surprise and because he shifted up, letting her feel his growing hardness up against her. “Excuse you, I’m a terrific dancer,” she retorted. Her mouth then hung open as her hand slid into his dark brown hair, anticipating his lips crushing against hers.

He pressed into her further as his fingers traveled through the long tendrils of her black hair, making her scalp tingle. While he distracted her, he slid his other hand down to her panties. “Fine, I take it back,” he said, pulling the one side down to expose the flesh underneath.

Her breathing was growing heavy. “I’m all gross from the gym,” she hitched.

His eyes never left hers. “I don’t care,” he said, and knelt up, his other hand joining her waist to pull her panties clean off.

 

Strange how the night moves…

With autumn closing in…

 

She was fully exposed to him, glistening wet from her own arousal. Whatever sweatiness had accumulated from her rigorous workout was completely taken over by her excitement. Slowly, he took a finger and rubbed around her folds, feeling how wet she was for him already. A small groan escaped her throat as she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met, but only for a moment as he pulled away rather quickly, surprising her and only leaving her wanting more.

“You’re such a tease, you know that?” she breathed, writhing under his touch.

“You were literally just performing a striptease for me,” he laughed, continuing his sweet assault between her thighs.

There was no arguing that. She beamed and pressed her head further into the pillow, allowing him to lightly kiss and nip at her neck, something he knew drove her wild. Her response kept him going, she was breathing so heavily. It felt like her whole body was stuck on vibrate as his kisses traveled down her body, over her sports bra, onto her tummy, down, down…

She looked down at him nestling between her thighs. “I can barely see you over my belly,” she whined. He moved forward and kissed her navel softly. “Shh, don’t worry,” he said, “It’s just more for me to cum on in the meantime.” His hand rubbed across her belly, grabbing slightly at the extra bits before settling on her thigh.

He knew her body. He knew just what to do to bring her there. And he’d always know, no matter how self-deprecating she would be over it.

“Just relax,” he said before dipping his head down to taste her.

 

Night moves…

 

The female singers chimed in with the song’s namesake; the pianist’s fingers dancing across the keyboard, bringing the jaunty tune toward its end. He lapped at her center, moving his tongue through every nook and cranny. It was delectable; she propped herself up on her elbows as she drew a sharp breath in, letting her head loll back onto the pillow. He gripped his hands around her thighs, squeezing her flesh, licking deep and diving back in for more.

She moaned long and loud, collapsing back down on the bed as he kept up his pace. The pleasure could have gone on for hours as far as she was concerned, and she knew he could keep kissing her there for as long as she wanted. Forever, if necessary.

 

I remember, I remember, I remember, I remember…

 

There was barely a minute left in the song. The guitar strumming increased, Seger’s vocal passion grew as her own did. She was breathing so heavily, his grip on her ample rear end not letting up. She was crying out, unable to keep herself away from the edge until he finally made her topple over it. Once, twice, three times she cried out, her hips bucking, her legs clamping around his head. He had brought her to such forceful peaks that she couldn’t even announce her initial climax.

With a final lap he smiled and leaned up, feeling her body trembling beneath him as he waited for her to open her eyes. Her lips parted, a smile drew across her face as she met his gaze.

“Mmm. Thank you,” she said, before sitting up and kissing him.

He chuckled as their lips were brought together. “Well, you’re welcome,” he said.

She rolled to her left and left the bed, picked up her panties and put them on, feeling them pressing up against her still-wet center. He laid down on his back where she was moments ago and put his arms behind his head.

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

What what?” he said, “I mean…” Trailing off, he lifted his hips up twice, referring to the hardened bulge that was begging to be released from his jeans.

“Oh, that thing is always hard,” she scoffed, dismissing him with a hand flick.

His eyebrows shot up. “But it’s…” He brought an arm down, waving it once in front of his crotch, as if he was showing off a gorgeous panoramic view of the Swiss Alps.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, walking back over to the bed and slowly climbing on top of him. His warm hands settled on her lower back as they sunk into one another. “You cook me a nice, healthy meal right now and we’ll see what I can do for you after,” she teased, leaning down and pecking him on the lips.

He settled back and studied her face, amazed at the angel who lay before him. Though he wasn’t a religious man, he knew there was a divine someone to thank for bringing this woman into his life.

He tucked some stray hairs behind her ear and chuckled. “Fine. But first, get those dirty clothes off my clean floors.”

She smiled and kissed him again.

 

Fin.

3 thoughts on ““Night Moves” – a Short Story (NSFW)

  1. So… That’s what the “humming a song from 1962” tweet was about. Cool little story. I liked it. I’ve never read a Twitter buddy’s writing blog and came away aroused. That’s a new experience. And it’s cool that the episode took place during the course of a song that clocks in at about five minutes. I’m glad see got hers. That was fun. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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