Out of Control

There was not a lot of people on the floor in the small area designated for dancing. After all, it was more of a bar designed for socializing. The area was barely even lighted. Alaina loved to dance. So when the guy that had definitely held her attention for most of the night asked her to dance, with that teasing smile of his, she did not hesitate. Before she knew it, she was grinding against him slowly in sync with the music. What was playing was actually only the background to the hum of talking and laughing that surrounded them. But as she moved and focused on it, the music seemed to grow louder. To her ears, the sounds of the other people faded. Alaina felt as if she and her partner were the only ones there, as they moved in sensuous harmony.

They were close to the edge of the dance area, near the wall. When she held up her arms and then turned her back to him, he was right there taking full advantage of his position—curving his body into hers. He was taller than she was, but she could feel his hard cock pressing into her lower back. Instinctively she moved, letting the curve that flowed into her perfectly formed bottom raise, causing the top of her behind to grind into the lower part of his crotch. Evidently he knew what he was doing as well because he dipped himself right on time, so that he could fully benefit from the feel of it.

"You dance pretty well for a white guy."

"I do a lot of things well," he murmured directly in her ear.

His hands were on her hips before he slid them over and downward. He did this slowly, giving her a chance to protest if she wanted. It was obvious that she did not want to. His hands formed a V just above her mound. If he lowered his fingers, he would be at the top of where her most private part began. He would then be able to follow the rise of her clit. It was already engorged and the thought of him finding out made her melt just a little.

"Mmm," she said playfully.

She expertly pressed her butt cheeks together, a slight movement that pressed more of her into his hands invitingly. He accepted the invitation and lowered his hands, just a little.

"Careful," he told her, "I might touch something I'm not supposed to. You shouldn't tease me like that."

"Mmm," escaped again, but it was more of a purr this time. "I haven't begun to tease you. If I had, you would be too weak to stand, let alone dance."

"You've been challenging me all evening and I haven't lost yet. I'd like to see who makes who weak in the knees."

He turned her slightly, not missing a beat. They were now facing a far corner of the bar. They still danced but his back was to anyone watching and covered her efficiently. There was no one between the two of them and the wall.

Now, Alaina felt as if they were truly alone.

He slid one hand down further, fitting his fingers between the top of her thighs, cupping her mound. Part of her could not believe this was happening. The more dominant part of her wanted more. When he arched his hand just right, she could feel the firm pressure of his fingers. She was getting some of what she wanted. He moved them up and down. Each time he came closer to her firm clit already peeking out between her folds.

Alaina's hips were no longer grinding round and round. She was now rocking them, making her sex more accessible. Her body welcomed the feel of what he was doing to her and the material that separated her skin from his seemed intrusive. She sighed, pressing her backside into him more firmly and then pressing herself into his hand.

Her pants had a side zipper. She felt her pants loosen as he slid the tiny piece of metal down. She felt him find the top of the silky triangle that barely shielded where he planned to go. Alaina made no effort to stop him. She parted her legs as his hand slipped between them.

Suddenly, they dipped together and as they rose, his hand moved toward her center. She was so wet already. He smoothed what was there back through her lips with a finger. The finger paused on top of her clit.

Her hands had been lying on his forearms and she gripped them.

Still he did not move his hand.

That's when she let the back of her head rest against his chest. One of her hands physically pushed his arm downward so that the flesh of her weeping pussy was in his warm palm.

He drew his hand over it, stroking her-once, twice, then again. And, she moved her hips, showing her hunger for more. When he arched his hand and dipped his finger into her wetness, she moaned.

"You are so sexy," he told her as he brushed the pad of his finger, slick from her juices, across her clit.

Alaina's swollen clit was so sensitive now. She gasped, immediately.

He was talented, applying just enough pressure. Carter drew pleasure from her. Each time he worked his finger around her clit, her pleasure increased. He had a rhythm that fell in line with how she moved and determined when he dragged his finger over the delicate unhooded bundle of nerves. From the way her hips moved and the low sounds she made, he easily knew when he had found that spot—her spot. For each woman, it was different. It was the spot that when manipulated just right and at the right speed made her lose all control. He knew exactly how to work it.

Her pleasure was spiking. She closed her eyes and rode his touch, her climax coming.

Just as she was on the edge and tottering, ready to fall, he stopped. Carter's finger slid between the folds of her inner lips and dipped into her drenched opening, going as far as he could.

Squeezing his arms again, she whimpered.

Since she was pressed against his chest, she could feel the low grumble of laughter.

"Who is the weak one now," he teased.

Although wanting to protest, a word slipped through her lips. "Me."

He manipulated her pussy, flicking her clit before focusing again on her spot.

"I'm going... going... to come."

"Then come," he whispered.

When her orgasm hit, her pussy contracted and pulsated so forcefully that her right leg shook. The orgasm rolled over her in strong waves as Carter continued his assault. It was too much stimulation, too good. She tightened her strong thighs in an attempt to still his hand.

She knew he had a wide smile on his face as he cupped her pussy once again and allowed her ripples of pleasure to calm. It would be a while before the residual effects dissipated. They definitely had not stopped completely when he spoke. He could feel that much.

"You are delicious," he told her after slipping his finger in between his lips to taste her. "And, I do believe I won."

The two of them laughed as she adjusted her pants and zipped herself up. He continued to shield her from anyone's view.

Oh my God, she thought as they returned to their group. How had she gotten herself into this situation? Alaina had never let something like this happen before, not even in college. She was way too conscious of her image.

Now there was a need for him fluttering inside of her and demanding more. Just a few hours ago, she was irritated and only in need of a heavily laced drink. As a matter of fact, a few hours ago she had just walked in the bar with a group of women ready to party. She, on the other hand, was trying to hype herself up for the start of a bachelorette celebration.

This is how she lost control...

Alaina generally would not have drunk so much in an unfamiliar atmosphere with too many people she did not know. She had arrived in Atlanta Thursday night, gotten herself settled and met up with the best friend she had in this world, Christa. She had also met the bridal party. Christa's childhood friends immediately gave Alaina the cold shoulder. They made no attempt to even hide it and it did not fade with time. Alaina did not feel that it was a black girl/white girl issue. It was obvious that they felt like Alaina had not only intruded in on their show, but was given the prized position.

Alaina was the maid of honor.

Alaina had known all about Christa's future husband right from the start of their relationship. When Alaina finally met him in person last fall, the two of them became quick friends.

She and Christa had met in college. Since she lived in another state, Alaina had fulfilled none of the usual pre-wedding, maiden of honor duties. It was easy to see who had in her place though, because the arrogant blonde with the bigger than life chip on her shoulder consistently made it clear. The skinny as a rail, snot had also made it clear that she was in no way turning over the reins. Alaina wanted to tell her so badly how much she couldn't care less about being responsible for all that. She just wanted to enjoy Christa's happiness and have fun. Besides, Alaina had always been just a call away and truly been her friend's emotional lifeboat. Christa called her frequently during the last couple of months and even more so in the last couple of weeks. Not to mention that during the last few days, the two of them seemed to live on the phone. Christa even complained about the blonde. Alaina was so happy for Christa, so she would put forth the effort to get along.

Christa's future husband introduced Alaina to a lot of his supposedly unattached friends. She had secretly hoped that maybe she would meet someone interesting at the wedding. The memory of the last time she had been on a date had long since faded. Available time had always been an issue with her. The men that Christa's fiancée introduced her to were nice and three or four were obviously attracted to her. None of them made her feel that spark. They all just seemed to be the same, life sized Ken dolls trying to impress you with where they were in their lives.

Christa's friends, those little stuck up bitches in the bridal party, were getting on Alaina's last nerve. She bored through the events of Friday and all of the ones today. Now at the bachelorette party, she was determined to have a good time. She deserved it.

Alaina knew that she was pretty, she was comfortable in her skin. Taking care of her body was always a priority. There was always a deep seated awareness that physical appeal was as important to success as everything else. Her single mother had driven it inside her head that being a woman of color required that she be two times better and work three times harder than everyone else in every aspect of her life. She was curvy by nature, but her body was perfectly proportioned-from the firmness of her breasts to the narrowness of her waist and her perfectly rounded backside. But, she would never be considered model thin, no matter how hard she tried. And, she had long since accepted that fact. Her body was athletic and meant to move.

In order to make sure that her confidence would not fail her, she had starved herself for the wedding, increased her workout routines and made sure she was toned perfectly. It made her not only more confident in herself, but proud—bold even. Although always stylish, with a subtle sexiness that was never blatant in effort, she purposefully made sure she was more so for the wedding. She had splurged for a few things that made her humble beginnings absolutely undetectable. She had made it to an Ivy League college by always being at the top of her class and the blessing of scholarships. She just never actually felt like a part of her surroundings, no matter how hard she tried.

She knew that Christa's friends would be picture perfect and with a style that screamed class, daughters of wealthy families with the level of understood entitlement that put the world at their fingertips. Christa was one of them, too, but without the condescending attitude. Christa was warm and extremely conscious of the feelings of others. At first, roommates forced together by a computerized error, they hated the idea of being roommates. Christa wanted to be at least near her friends. Alaina wanted to be at least where there were others like herself. But by the end of the first semester, they were close friends. They tried to go back to their separate worlds when it was time to part, but it did not work well. They found that they missed their friendship. What they shared could not be found somewhere else. They found an apartment, moved in together and deepened a permanent bond that could never be threatened.

Nevertheless, right now Alaina felt a little left out. Christa and her friends shared a long history and had their distinct link. So, Alaina welcomed another source of entertainment in the fashionable bar.

White men had always been attracted to her flawless pecan tinted skin. Not that she did not get equal attention from every other race of men, they were just scarce in her environment and generally already attached. There were one or two black guys in the bar, but they were definitely with women that mirrored the women she was already with. Also, the two women made sure Alaina understood that. They gave her the serious side eye. There was one woman of color seated at a far table. Alaina and she made eye contact with an understood sense of recognition and no inclination to carry it further.

After a few drinks Alaina was reveling in the attention several men were showing, even making a few of the other girls a little jealous. Two of the girls in particular tried to establish their presence, trying to direct the men's attention their way. But, Alaina was in her zone and had them entranced with her playful personality. She was not ready to share her find.

She did, however, flirt with one a little bit more than the others. Eventually the other men got the message and began to talk with the other girls. The man she had chosen to show favor to was handsome and well groomed, pretty much like his friends. She noted that he had nice, sexy lips that formed into a ready smile. Nice lips were her hidden turn on. He had a down to earth realness about him that separated him from the rest. He was dressed casually, but in that way that let you know he was a professional. He had an excellent sense of humor and quick wit. He could keep up with Alaina, which was rare.

It was one of the other girls that somehow managed to get the group on the subject of tattoos. Alaina had not truly been paying attention to them. She and the guy, who the other guys called Carter, were in a one on one conversation, heavily laced with sexual undertones. It was not intentional. The two of them just had that magnetism between them. Alaina was enjoying him.

Only a few in Carter's group had tattoos. They admitted what their tattoos were and where they were located. One of the girls that should have stopped drinking several drinks ago, turned, pulled down the band of her short skirt so that a good portion of her crack showed, while lifting the back of her shirt to show her "tramp stamp." One girl had a tattoo on her breast and had no problem letting them see the series of butterflies that disappeared into her cleavage. Christa, definitely tipsy, just laughed and refused to show hers.

"Ah, come on," one guy teased.

"My future husband would have a fit," she told them.

The word husband meant they had to all quickly down a shot. Alaina forgot what the other words were.

They were all at the end of the long bar, where it curved. It was a little tucked away to the side. Someone would have had to specifically focus in their direction to notice them, they were so far in the back. The music somewhat helped make their playful laughing and rauckous behavior go unnoticed.

One guy turned and zoomed in on Carter.

"Carter has a huge one that goes over his shoulder. Show them Carter," he urged. "The women at the gym go crazy over it."

"I'm not about to take off my shirt," Carter made it clear.

"Oh," Alaina teased, "be a sport."

The others cheered him on, which he ignored. He directed his attention back to Alaina, turning so that his back was to them and moved his seat a little closer.

Alaina fitted herself against the raised back of the leather bar chair, turning so that she faced him. Wearing pants, she spread her legs wide and smiled. Of course, he smiled devilishly in return and moved yet a little closer.

"And, where is your tattoo?" he asked her.

"I'm not that type of girl," she told him. "You don't strike me as that type of guy either."

In a way that only she could hear, Carter leaned forward saying, "Don't let the Tom Ford clothing fool you."

"At least show her those abs," the drunkest one of his friends said, putting his arm around Carter's shoulders and reaching to pull Carter's shirt out of his pants. "You won't believe them. I couldn't get them even if I did try. He's like the statue of David."

Carter gave him a look that was not in any way playful. The guy quickly stopped and dropped his arm, stumbling back.

"He's being shy," the guy said, embarrassed and trying to recover. He quickly turned to another woman and said, "How are you?"

Alaina did not know why but she felt turned on just a little by Carter's act of dominance. It was like the alpha wolf reminding the other that he was just a beta. She suddenly desired to establish just how strong her effect was on him.

"I'd like to see those abs," she purred.

"Would you?" Carter did not miss a beat. "And, what would I get to see?"

Alaina batted her eyes and attempted to look innocent. "It depends on how impressive those abs are."

They just stared at each other for a moment, both of them smiling.

"Oh, I bet that body of yours is just perfect. I bet you row," Miss wedding supervisor said over his shoulder. She wrapped one arm around him and let her hand feel his chest.

"No," Carter said as if that would never be a possibility, "I don't row."

"Nice abs are so sexy on a man," the woman added. She moved beside him and rubbed the front of her body against the side of his arm.

That pissed Alaina off, but she was adept at hiding those types of emotions when there was a chance that it revealed any kind of weakness.

Carter glanced at the woman briefly. Unlike most of the rest, she was not drunk. She meant to offend Alaina and state her claim.

"Yes, so sexy," Alaina said. The challenge in her voice was obvious.

"Are you asking?" The question was directed at Alaina.

"I'm certainly not going to say please," she told him with a sly smile.

Carter stood up. He fit himself perfectly between Alaina's open knees. Without taking his eyes off of hers, he lifted the bottom of his shirt out of his pants and then raised it. He hooked the thumb of his other hand in the top of his pants and pulled them low.

"Damn." Alaina lost her vocabulary.

The blonde moved so that she could see and made a high pitched, irritating sound.

Carter was lean, all muscle. His torso was cut. The lowering of the front of his pants revealed that tight muscle that highlighted the path to his manliness and was right below those defined squares of perfection. His skin was stretched tightly across it and slightly veined-those veins that made a woman feel like a man's cock had to be well nourished and amazing.

Just as the blonde reached to touch them, they were gone. His shirt was down. He stepped back and her hand was hanging in the air.

He took Alaina's hand. "Hmm, what could you show me?"

"I didn't really ask to see anything. You volunteered. I just said that abs were sexy."

"And mine?"

"Definitely sexy." Alaina's smile was uncontrollable. "You surprised me."

"Surprised you?"

"You didn't surprise me," the other woman interjected.

Both of them ignored her.

"You're one of those." She motioned her head to indicate his friends—who were having fun flirting with all the girls of the wedding party and getting more acquainted as the night progressed.

He had already told her what he did for a living.

"You sit behind a desk all day long, pushing papers, moving money around with the stroke of a computer key."

"What is it that you do?" the blonde inquired, interested.