Lujuria

The frenzied throng of dancers somehow becoming more and more agitated. Against this sensory overload, you caught glimpses of more aggression and passion among the sweating, pulsing corpus—a man burying his mouth in the nape of a woman’s neck, a woman using the tip of her tongue to trace the lips of another woman, two men lifting the dress of a woman dancing between them.

Rising up from the mess of flesh and desire was Lujuria. She ascended the stairs slowly but inexorably, her deep brown eyes locked on yours. As best you could make out in the dim lighting and your foggy state of mind, she was a nubile Latina. Her blue dress had become disheveled since you saw her enter the club; one of the straps had come down off her shoulder, revealing the upper half of her left breast, the creamy globe bouncing firmly with each step she took. As she approached the top of the steps, the strobe light over the dance floor illuminated her from behind, the light penetrating through her dress to show you the silhouette of her long legs. Her face was radiant, glowing through a sheen of sweat.

“Lilith,” you cried. “Lilith, what the fuck is going on?”

“An ignorant question,” spat Lilith’s voice from behind you. “A man who knows himself asks not such foolish questions. Feel your desire. Gaze upon your Madonna, John, and let your desire for her grow until it overwhelms you.”

As Lilith’s words snaked through your consciousness, Lujuria dominated your senses. She loomed before you, her hips swaying and breasts quaking with each stride she took, her eyes never leaving yours.

At last the sharp clicking of her heels on the floor gave way to the muffled sighing of her footsteps on the plush carpet before you. The drink in your hand trembled as she stood over you for a moment, her eyes remaining locked on yours. You could once again smell her hair, this time mixed with the slight smell of sweat…. the heat exuding from her flesh just inches away from your face was tangible. She leaned forward at the waist, planting her hands on the arms of your couch. You gasped as the loose fabric of her blue dress fell forward, exposing in shadow the roundness of her left breast. You shut your eyes as you felt her lips place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“What is this, a strip club?” You turned around to Lilith, asking “Is Lujuria going to give me a fucking lap dance or something?” But Lilith wasn’t there—there was no one behind you.

Two fingers on your cheek gently but authoritatively turned your head forward again. Lujuria held her face close to yours for a moment, her lips just inches away, before slowly standing upright. The rogue strap of her dress remained off her shoulder, the soft curve of her exposed breast tempting you.

“Listen,” you stammered, “I don’t want a lap dance. I’m engaged to be married, and I don’t have any cash on me. I just wanted a drink.”

Lujuria smirked, and with the grace of a dancer, lifted her right leg up and placed her heeled foot on the left arm of your couch. You sighed. Despite your blurry mind and anxiety over the situation, you were unable to resist taking in Lujuria and her elegantly arched foot in a heeled shoe, her slender ankle tapering up into a toned calf muscle, and her long, smooth, olive-colored thigh extended up to underneath her dress.

After what felt like an eternity, you tore your eyes away from her leg and looked up at her, noticing that she had been watching you. Embarrassed, you cast your eyes downwards.

“It’s okay John,” she said, in a voice that sounded like a shot of tequila. “You can look. I want you to look.”

She extended her right arm and slowly drew up her dress, revealing inch after inch of her tanned thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, and you could do nothing but follow the hem of her dress with your eyes as it crept upwards, hoping for a glimpse of her panties. She stopped just short of revealing more than her thigh, perfectly toned and glistening with perspiration.

She then surprised you by putting her left hand in your glass and pulling out the single ice cube, the liquor and ice dripping from her fingers. With a wry smile, she held the ice cube over the highest part of her thigh, near her hip.

Your breath once again caught up in your throat as you watched drops of water fall from her hand onto her thigh and comingle with her sweat to form rivulets that slowly and seductively made its way down her leg.

“Take off my shoe, John.”

You set your drink down and deliberately reached to the arm of your couch, carefully caressing her heeled foot and moving it onto your lap. She pointed her toes, allowing you to slip her shoe off and bare her foot.

“Kiss my feet, John.”

You ran your hand along the sole of her bare foot, tracing her high arch and pressing gently against the balls of her feet. You did not move as she raised her foot, placing her toes at your lips.

“Suck my toes,” she ordered.

“I can’t,” you protested. “I like you a lot, and you’re beautiful, but I’m engaged to be married. I just came in here for a drink. I really need to get out of here.”

Anger crossed Lujuria’s face. The throng of dancing clubgoers behind her became visibly agitated, dancing with an almost palpable aggression. Over the sound of the throbbing music, you could hear wails of passion bordering on pain.

Lujuria grabbed you by your tie and pulled you up to kiss her. You fumbled to find something to grab on to in your oddly supine position, but relented as she pressed her tongue into your mouth. Her hair fell onto your face and neck as her tongue sought yours, the warmth of her lips blending beautifully with the taste of alcohol on your breath. She released you abruptly and dropped you back into your couch.

“Listen,” you said. “That…. I shouldn’t do this.”

Lujuria’s dark brown eyes burned as she stared at you. She threw her head back and howled incoherently, and the pit of dancing arms, legs, breasts, and eyes behind her burst into flames. You recoiled in shock as screams of pain and anger rose up out of the sunken dance floor.

“What the FUCK?” you yelled. “WHAT THE FUCK!!??”

Lujuria reached up and loosened the right strap of her dress and pulled her top down to her waist, exposing her breasts and a perfectly toned stomach. The heat from the flames behind her caused beads of sweat to form on her torso. She glared at you with an intense hunger.

Slowly, she nudged your knees with her legs to part them and turned. You admired the feminine musculature of her back and the groove of her spine, both pointing down to a tapered waist. She backed up slightly further and her ass was inches from your face—you could smell her hair mixed with the scent of her sweat, and you thought the intoxicating odor would drive you mad with desire.

With her head turned to the side so as not to break her gaze, she slowly lowered her ass down onto your lap. Her firm buttocks clasped your erection, and she began to slowly slide her ass up and down, using the valley of her cheeks to massage your cock through your clothes.

You gasped, and caught a slight smile on Lujuria’s face. She leaned back onto your chest and raised an arm behind your head. Her cheek was pressed against yours and you once again were subjected to a whiff of her sweet smelling hair as she continued to flex and grind her ass against the protrusion in your lap. Even without looking, you felt the eyes of the hundreds of screaming dancers upon you, their wails mixing with the waves of intense heat emanating from the blazing pit.

“I… I can’t,” you stuttered. “This… we’ve got to stop. Holy shit.”

“Take her,” uttered Lilith’s voice behind you. “She is nothing if not yours to possess. Give in to your desire. To lust is to be human. You will not know satisfaction until you take her for your own. Take her and bend her body to your will. Fill her with your passion. Or else cast yourself into the flames to be burned up like chaff. If you will not possess her, you deserve no more than the kiss of the flames.”