Do A Little Dance

Echinacea opened at eleven o'clock every night. Normally, patrons lined up outside the main doors around nine or ten. Space was limited; the area was sought by all and forgiving to none. Once inside, a guest was led through wallpapered hallways of contemporary art to a table of polished colored glass. Waiters in dress shirts and black vests carried drinks with elegance, while shouting new orders to the bartenders in the far left hand corner. The tables were only one half of Echinacea, however. The other half was a hardwood dance floor, complete with strobe lights, a disco ball, and a DJ station that used MP3's to blast out its music through 900-volt speakers. Hot Spot listings were not complete without the brassiest, classiest, most elite nightclub in the greater Chicago area.

Tonight, it was 11:30, and the doors were now closed. Those left outside the club could only walk away and hope to arrive earlier the next day. But for now, the people inside were enjoying their drinks and the raunchy dance music played so often.

Brian Littrell sat alone at the one corner table next to a window. His right hand held a glass of ginger ale, his left, a shot of bourbon. One salt and one pepper shaker were placed at the center of his table, looking somewhat abandoned. His eyes though, were out the window, in a whole different world. He never liked to call it "zoning out," mainly because of its potential sexual connotation, but that was basically what he was doing.

Either way, he was here, alone. Silently debating between his soda and his alcohol. He eyed each carefully, first one, then the other. Slowly, he lifted the ginger ale to his lips and took a sip. He let it trickle down his throat with a soft exhale. Suddenly, he slammed the ginger ale onto the table and flung the bourbon into his mouth, feeling the stinging warmth blaze its way down his throat. A satisfied smile lit his face and he sat back into his seat, ordering another bourbon with a finger as he returned to his previous occupation: observation.

His gaze slid down towards the dance floor, where a stunningly handsome man caught his eye. Brian Littrell watched curiously as the man grinded with a girl in a slinky black dress. Brian made sure to note that his subject wore no shirt, but only a pair of black leather pants and steel-toed boots that laced halfway up his shin. Tattoos were engraved up his arms and plastered his back, but Brian thought they were beautiful. Placing both drink glasses back on the table, he rose and walked in a semi-trance down to the mass of churning people. He focused all his attention on the man he had seen from his table as he walked, completely unaware of any other surroundings. Suddenly, he saw the man ease up on his dirty dancing and turn his head towards Brian. He remained unfazed, and continued on, their eyes locked on one another. To his delight, the slut in the black dress pulled the tattooed man closer to her, leaving Brian enough room to sneak in from behind. Once he reached his destination, he placed his hands on the man's sides—oh heaven—and rubbed his crotch against his ass, feeling the heat being transferred from one body to the other and back. Brian swayed with the music, sandwiching his lust object between himself and the girl. He knew he was hard, but didn't care and only pushed harder, using the man's (oh so tight) ass as a source of relief. A tiny moan escaped his lips, softly, but very audible considering his lips were right by the man's ear. Not surprisingly, Brian felt him tense up for a moment, then turn around to face him. Their eyes met in a blazing desire, and neither noticed when the slut in the black dress slapped his back and huffed away.

"AJ." His voice was raspy and sexier than any voice Brian had ever heard before.

"Brian."

The intense gaze continued. Brian felt that if something did not happen soon, he was going to jump the sex god before him.

"Dance or drink?" Brian was amazed any sort of intelligible phrase could make its way out of his mouth.

"Drink, then dance."

Brian led AJ to his table, neither lifting his stare from the other. Brian ordered two shots of bourbon and the drinks arrived almost immediately. No more than ten words had passed between the two men, but there was no doubt in their minds what each wanted.

After downing their shots, they ordered two more. The waiter brought eight. With the same unmoving look, they tossed down their shots in synchronized motion. The entire session was wordless; only their eyes spoke to each other.

When the shot glasses were empty, the waiter briskly removed them as Brian and AJ glided back to the dance floor, hand in hand. A raunchy tune was pumping out of the speakers, providing the perfect beat. Brian began to grind with AJ again, only face to face instead of back to stomach. Their erections rubbed against each other with every sway and they let out a slight moan every once in a while. Both were beginning to perspire with exertion as well as sexual tension. AJ undid the first three buttons of Brian's button down shirt, revealing his smooth, sweaty chest and hard nipples. Licking his lips subconsciouly, AJ leaned his head in and slid his tongue down Brian's chest, undoing buttons along the way. Brian eased his head back, wallowing in the erotic feel. Once AJ's tongue reached the top of Brian's pants, his breath caught in his chest, thinking about how badly he wanted AJ to just tear his pants off and take his throbbing cock into his mouth.

"Let's go." AJ said, the need apparent in his eyes.

Brian was somewhat surprised that the look reflected his own. "Yes."

"Your place or mine?"

"Mine. It's only a five-minute walk from here."

"I can't wait that long."

"We can run."

So they ran.

At Brian's front door, just as he was about to retrieve his keys, AJ wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him with a growing urgency. His lips had already parted and were working on opening up Brian's mouth. He need not had tried so hard, since Brian eagerly accepted AJ's tongue with a gentle tug and a hungry suck.

"Inside, NOW." Brian slammed the key into the lock and opened the door. They practically fell in as Brian kicked the door shut, with AJ on top of him and vampyring his neck. He let loose a groan when AJ jerked his shirt off and ran his tongue around Brian's chest, stopping at his nipples to flick his tongue over a few times and adding a bite or two for fun. In the meantime, Brian's pants had been removed and AJ's hand had wandered between Brian's legs, massaging the coarse blonde fur first before pumping his shaft with firm, even strokes. Brian moaned aloud with want and his hips thrust up lightly, urging AJ to continue. After Brian's neck was kissed and sucked red, AJ began his descent, running his tongue down Brian's torso and relishing in the salty smoothness of the body before him. Closing his eyes in ecstasy, he sluggishly led his mouth to Brian's nipples and took one in his mouth. His tongue slid over the top, around and into the pink nipple, working the hard nub until it was red and swollen. Once he was satisfied, he moved to the other nipple and gave it the identical treatment, and was pleased to note that Brian's back had arched up towards his mouth with every stroke of the tongue. On his way back down, he glanced up at his love, and saw nothing but a twisted face filled with erotic agony. Smiling devilishly, AJ licked his way around Brian's stomach, tracing each crease and ending the journey in his navel, easing his tongue in and out with sexual implication in every movement.

"God, AJ, don't fucking tease me," Brian moaned. "I want you so bad."

AJ merely grinned and turned his attention to Brian's erection, which was cheerfully leaking precum and throbbing so hard it looked ready to explode. He stretched his tongue out to take a few short licks of Brian's head, picking up a bit of precum along the way. Receiving a pleased groan in response, he took longer licks, tasting the entirety of Brian's thick cock. He wanted that in his mouth so badly he couldn't help but reach out and suck the head, lightly but firmly, his lips working along the edges. With each gentle suction, his whole mouth squeezed, causing Brian to push his hips up encouragingly, and his hands to clench into fists. AJ rotated his skilled lips one way, then another, milking Brian of every curse word and type of moan in the book: the loud moan, the long moan, the stop-that-and-fuck-me-now moan, and so forth. Taking a deep breath, AJ pushed his head all the way down Brian's cock, sucking hard as he moved. Brian made a noise somewhere between a gasp, a moan and a scream and his hips jerked up into the air violently. His fingernails were making dents in his palm from squeezing his fists so hard, and his face twisted in fifty positions, each equally tortured from the extreme pleasure he was receiving.

Slowly, AJ began sliding up and down Brian's member, using his tongue as an additional tool. His teeth scraped lightly at first, then with increasing power and passion. Sloppily slapping his tongue around, Brian's sweat and precum mixed with his own spit created the perfect combination. Brian was fighting hard to keep control, his hips tensed and his body shivering with need. With one giant suck, AJ felt Brian's cum barrel down his throat in hot, salty pumps. He swallowed as much as he could then licked up the remainder with a satisfied smack. Brian lay panting, unable to move, breathe, or think.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he finally stumbled out.

"Amazing," AJ repeated.

Brian gave him a sultry glance. "We'll have to do this again sometime."

AJ shot him a seductive glare back. "Absolutely."

"And you will have to give me the number of whoever taught you to blow like that."

"Why, so they can have you? I think not." AJ smiled.

"Or maybe you can just do that again."

"That can be arranged."

So they did it again.