The base booms but I only hear one voice, one throat, one tongue playing with the words I have heard nights on end. The beat thrills and my heart skips to follow its rhythm. Bodies gyrating, pressed against each other in a heaving, sweaty mess. Hungry eyes peer out from the crowd, looking to consume, tearing through cloth, finding each mark. As they find her, my heckles raise, my heart now pounding with the rhythm of the music. Their hunger reminds me of mine, but now it raises something else in me, an urge to keep what is mine. As the beat drops so does the crowd, grinding, mouths exploring, hands reaching. So does she, as she flicks her head, her long red hairs cascade around. Sweat drops glisten on her forehead, her lips reminding me of words babbled in the night, outstretched hands reminding me of them around my neck.

Her: He tastes of desperation, so many of them do. His hands playing over my body, trembling like a deer. He tries to be forward, showing his friends that he can hunt this sweet doe. How wrong they are. Turning my head, letting my hairs swish over his face. Curling my lips in an invitation. He kisses me, eyes pressed closed, tongue whirling like a washing machine. Grinding against me. I bite his lip, tasting the sweet copper, the sweetest thing about him. I let my hand slip over his leg up to his chest and push him off. He stumbles, takes a second to adjust to his sudden isolation. The guys that had looked at him as the predator see him for who he is as I take the hand of his friend. I can feel the boy's anger burn, it radiates like the sun on the savanna. I bask in its heat, look over to the giant at the edge of the room and bask in the radiating fury.

She finds me in the crowd, her eyes sparkle with that light of a new life, or is that just my imagination. Those hungry eyes follow her gaze to find me, their hunting instincts die. She is no prey. She smiles to me, reminding me of her mother, dancing with me where she is standing. She reminds me of nights filled with her children's song. She clasps her hands around a fresh guy she smiles at me, a smile she smiles when she knows she is safe, the smile she smiles when she knows her father is there for her.

Her: I smile with the pleasure of the hunt. The hum of the giant vibrates through the hall, and the radiating sun turns into fearful moonlight. I'm more of a nighttime being anyway. I smile, press my face into the fresh meat. And take a bite as my shoulders relax.

She presses that smile into him, her shoulders relax. The beat booms, and we sing together, her from the dance floor, I from the bouncers post. Her song high and full of youthful exuberance, mine low and accepting.

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A different type of post to my usual. This one is about a daddy and his girl, whatever meaning that has. Is she the prey or the predator, they see it different ways. Its about groping, and sensuality, exploring boundary's and getting into trouble. This plot might only span minutes, songs, but take chapters to write. How far do they go on the dancefloor, who stands at the end of the night?

My other posts are open, they might tend to a different audience here is my profile with kinks.