It's finally date night. After weeks of waiting, a short escape from the familiar grind of endless house chores, and monotonous days at work that seem to blend together. The plan-dinner downtown first, then a short walk to a club we've never been to before to dance.

From the reflection in the mirror, I watch you getting ready to go out. After cycling through multiple outfits, you select a low-cut, black top that's just a little bit transparent and slightly flared jeans that can't grip your ass any tighter. The process of putting soft curls into your hair has me captivated. Twisting and falling onto your shoulders. I have this intense urge to stand up, kiss you, and play with your fresh curls, but I don't. I'm watching more intently now as you finish your makeup, applying a subtle shade of red lipstick. The only thing I can think about is what that red lipstick will look like smeared all over my hard cock. I get lost in this fantasy and don't notice you're behind me. Without a word, you slide two fingers into my mouth. Instantly, I can taste you and suck on your fingers without really thinking about it; just instinct. You're sweeter than usual, and I can tell you're ovulating right now. I start thinking about how creamy you'll be when I slide into you for the first time. You tell me if I'm a good boy tonight when we get home, I can make you come. I suck on your fingers hard and nod, then smile. Fuck, I'm lucky.

Dinner was delicious but uneventful. It's getting late. I'm anxious to get to the club and dance. Ready to feel you pressed against me. I want to sweat, drown in the overwhelming thump of the bass, and run my hands all over you. The club is busier than expected, and we're lucky to get in before the line at the door starts to get long. It's crowded and dark and perfect. We squeeze into a spot next to a group of a dozen people who are obviously regulars. Most seem to be couples, and there are a handful of single guys mixed in. At least, I'm guessing they're single based on how they keep looking at you.

We dance. The DJ is good, and the molly is even better. The club is in a basement, and it's hot. The sweat has made your top more see-through than when the night started. As we're dancing, I run my hand over your nipples, and they stand up completely erect, poking out through your bra. Two of the single guys move closer and turn so they can watch you better. You're getting lost in the beat, your ass grazes against my jeans, and you can feel my cock getting harder every time you push back. I can't tell if you notice the two guys who have become mesmerized by how you are moving against me. It's quite a show, and I fucking love it.

I spin you around to face me, grab the back of your neck, and kiss you. The kiss is deep and wet, and you bite my bottom lip. Pretty sure that means you like it. The tempo of the next song slows, and the way you're shaking your ass must have been too much because one of the guys gets the confidence to slide up directly behind you. I kiss you again, and it's electric. You don't look back and keep dancing. At this point, there's no way you can miss him behind you. And you confirm it by reaching back to run your hand across his chest. The entire time you're staring at me with a little subtle smirk on your face. I'm in awe of how sexy you are, and I'm melting inside. Your hand encourages him, and both of his hands end up on your hips. They start to wander, moving all over your ass. Your face gets flushed; I think you like being the center of our attention.

It's 2 am, and it feels like there's a lot more night left. Give me a few hints at what should happen next and I'll write part 2.