Darkness and Strobe. Splintered shadow on a hundred faces. The floor caught in perpetual quake. There is a part of me that is disgusted. The part that detests the selfishness of hedonism. The part that doesn't differentiate my fellow man from hairless monkeys.
I ignore it. I often ignore it, when the music is right.

Unshackle the beast. The release is almost tangible. Wolf eyes, they aren't always serene... Find the beat. Find the heat. Keep my composure while I dance. I'm no dandy, I'm here to hunt, not to impress. Find the girl with the sunflower perfume. The prettiest stranger. The back of her head against my chest and her body writhing. I'm too eager. All hands. It's been too long. Something gives, Fuck composure.

My arms around her waist. Hands in tribal rhythm dancing themselves slowly hellbound toward her secrets. I gently bite her neck and whisper my request in her ear. Never uninvited. Her consent is a slow nod.

Take it. Take it all. Her arms backward around my neck as I play her passions, delighting in each unwillful gasp and rapid breath, each stifled cry.
Reluctance ... she's crowd weary, feeling exposed. I rip her around in my arms and keep her close. They don't exist. It's just you and me...

She can see it in my eyes... I know because I can almost feel the recognition reverberating through every part of me. I find it reflected back at me, our bodies desperate to get as close as possible, a dance older than courtship, older than sin older than social custom.
I find her heat again and lift her to me. She bites my shoulder hard and breathes the most delicious sound as I feel her encompassing warmth. She's forgotten the crowd. I can hear her cries above the music now. There we are luv... Sing to me...

 Naughty isn't it? ... It was just a dream... Maybe... Even so, does that make it less real? I need to stay away from clubs. Morpheus... You lout...