Ideal Parties.

Not talking about sexual innuendos or the likes sets my mind straight
to it. No sex I think to myself and then, dire prospects. How about a
party somewhere else then,. Party is out of the question too. There is
sports and football but I don't care much for either unless it's the
world cup and the pubs are filled with nationals from either team and
the atmosphere is spirited and steaming. But that's more about hanging
out with friends and sharing angst ridden moments without to much care.
Brings me back to wanting to go to a good party, one where debauchery
is spelled with capital letters and anything that can happen does. The
girl you have secretly stared at all night suddenly presses her
generous built against you and you can feel her breath on your face,
all steamed up slightly flustered from the heat and the drink, she
smiles, mumbles something of an introduction you half understand, then
pushes past, while your eyes follow her cleavage, till you feel her
hand taking yours and you follow. A bit outside the centre madness,
where there is time to breath and words can be uttered as well as
understood you come to a halt and she turns to you. Close enough to see
the thin film of sweat on her, she gives you a smile, showing her teeth
and you feel good just for that. Now you can exchange names for names
sake and to break the impending silence. You can hear her laugh carry,
then she squeezes your hand and you squeeze it back and as important as
names are they are not and almost forgotten immediately. Her big eyes
look at you and with the heat and the smile, the noise and commotion
you do what you feel like doing and bend down, hover a moment then
taste her salty lips feel her press against you as she hungrily
responds. Now a tangle of tongue and hearts, lust rises and remains
unnoticed inside the where you are. The music picks up and we edge back
to the centre of madness, where the dancing bodies mingle with others
and as we shake in the rhythm we drift and get separated. Now only a
big pair of eyes catch a glimpse now and then, till that is lost too.
But I wasn't gonna talk of parties and will not cause memories fade and
the next day it's all but forgotten. A taste still lingers, better than
that of a dream, but as elusive, you regret not having taken her number
or handed out yours and look forward to a good party, one with all the
right moments to be memorable. Then the monotony of the daily days
catches up, you drift through meaningless moments at work to pay your
bills and know you are meant for something different.