The Swaying Sarah
High heels have got me falling down on my knees, came the sultry, smoky voice of the lead singer.
“I’m Sarah,” she said into his cheek, practically shouting to be heard above the music, and making no attempt to keep her lips from brushing his beard.
“I’m Alex.” Her hair smelled of strawberries as it wisped across his face.
“You don’t look like you come to concerts often, Alex.” She moved up and down his front, pressing her behind into him more each time she dropped down. He could feel a fire start to burn inside him, and tingles shot through his hands and cheeks.
“Not really. I’m a bit of a hermit,” he replied, taking the liberty of getting his face close in to her ear.
She released her hold on his neck and turned around to face him, placing her arms around his neck again, and looking up with a smile veritably laced with suggestiveness.
She leant right up to his face. “You should do it more often, it’s good for you.”
“You sound like my therapist,” he joked.
Sarah laughed. “I am certainly no therapist, but I can show you how to loosen up Alex.”
She took his hands and placed them on her hips, and then moved forward even closer, pressing her front up against his as she moved in time with the music.