You were a blur of fair skin awash in neon light rushing towards me, pinning me against the wall. I could barely make out the electronic music playing from inside the club. It was just a faint transmission of synths and bass, the pulsing soundtrack like music from within a distant feverish dream. 

In the narrow alleyway, your lips cover mine in a way that almost betrays the softness of your skin and body. There's nothing soft in this kiss. It is of a pure possessive fury that needs no words when our language is only expressed in hungry mouths, in tongues tangling and rarely taking a moment to catch collective breaths. 

It only makes sense. After all, we had been dancing and drinking for what seemed like hours. Our bodies had been swaying, grinding and tangling in tune with every song. It was our flesh that became instruments, caressing, colliding, and plucking until just the right frenzy chords had been stricken. All that build up, all that heat and frenetic energy only making us crave more.

And the autumn night air was crisp, every breath like a cold sweet wind pulled into our lungs. The dark sky overhead just a void of smoky gray churning together, a storm hovering but still refusing to break. The sight was nearly hypnotic, those clouds like limbless mysterious bodies silently colliding for control but not yet realizing that they're like us, always meant to merge.

The kisses suddenly stop, but only for a moment. Your mouth tastes sharp and sweet, an aftereffect of the drinks you had. I can only taste crimson lipstick and strawberries now.

Your eyes, a vibrant gray green, are even more luminescent with neon splashed over them, a gorgeous artificial rainbow covering you. I want to say something. But, as where words flowed without effort earlier, I'm silent. Your eyes say more than our combined vocabulary ever could. They're magnetic. Fire. Electricity. Dangerous elements all contained. Pure need encased within bone and flesh as you turn around.

Up against the wall, your body teases me with quiet, restrained fury, skin and fabric grinding against my confined ache. I briefly wonder how the human body, something so seemingly fragile at times, can be pressed between me and a brick wall and still seem to be the most dangerous living creature writhing. 

My hands seem to move on their own accord, fingers lacing tightly around your neck, bodies turning in a mad clumsy rush until you're the one pinned against the wall now.

My hand can feel the pulse relentlessly hammering in your throat, knowing that I won't truly hurt you but also aware that my every move is gauging and using the kind of force you crave. It's not quite a force, though. This would imply that I'm the only one in control, but you actually have all the power. I'm a vessel, though, that you exchange it with, conduits forever exchanging an unrelenting energy. 

My other hand seeks out and quickly finds the wetness under your skirt, searing nectar dripping before my fingers even part you and somehow discover a rush of even more heat. 

"Tell me," I groan in a hungry rasp against your earlobe, a finger already probing inside, a thumb ravenously circling your clit and applying more pressure by the moment.

"Inside me... I need you inside me now." 

The words are a mystery, but only because of the way they sound. From your lips, the breathy whisper is both a command and a plea. A battle cry and desperate wish all at once. 

I still plunge deeper and rub faster, seeing how much you can take, your moans barely drowned out by the music inside and the sound of exploring you from within.

Each slide back and forth seems to have awoken an endless flow of juices, like I've tapped a deep and fragrant tight well that's been aching to be discovered and breached.

When your head cranes back to see me, our eyes are locked, matching orbs glazed over with ravenous need. The lights still pulse and wash over your face, a rapturous artificial rainbow glowing. 

If we were inside, whether seeking a hidden corner or stall, we'd be among so many others, an ocean of voices and lights and bass. We'd be writhing shadows among bright strobes, completely anonymous.

But, out here, you are singular, coated in a glow so otherworldly, the music thudding like the distant heart of a massive unseen animal glassing us from the shadows, pulses beating in time with the fever pitch of our own.

My fingers suddenly withdraw and I hear a faint whimper, a little cry from such a sudden absence. But I can't tease anymore. As one hand reaches up, your warm mouth pulls my fingers within, sucking juices as I unzip.

It's almost painful when I spring forward from my pants, hard flesh just barely grazing your entrance and you push back a little, beckoning me to just trespass, to invade and stretch you with my throbbing bare cock. The heat is almost too much, daring to continue this trespass. 

There is no tease beyond that moment, no more waiting, and we both shudder as I finally slip inside. 

It's purely invasive, impaling depths that clamp around me the farther I go, your needy cunt testing me, seeing if I'll show restraint when you tighten, curious to know how deep I'm willing to push.

The answer is given when my hips are already grinding as you push back against me, your cheeks rippling with each animal collision. Your instinctive, writhing in perfect tune with each thrust harder and harder until I can feel myself grinding against your swollen clit.

You look back at me now, teeth bared and giving your grin a knowing snarl, eyes glazed and feral in the neon rainbows, an otherworldly spectral haze. Your eyes seem to tell me that you love whatever it is in me that you've unleashed, to not dare hold back. 

Fingers finding their way to your swaying breasts, trapping hard nipples and squeezing. I can feel your heart racing. The world beating hard in my bare hand. The other seeks and grabs your hair, a sudden cry emitted when I pull not hard enough to truly hurt but more than hard enough to matter. 

Our moans become almost more like bestial grunts when you push back against each thrust, when I pull harder, when my other hand squeezes enough to leave a faint imprint later on, a coded signature on your breast. 

The sounds we release as skin slaps against skin are the animals in us no longer dormant, our nature at its most primal and wanting. A series of thunderclaps rage in the distance, skyward explosions matching the erratic racing of our hearts. Those violent bursts are like us, sudden and inevitable, pressures that have to flex and contract and scream.

You cry out in something like a lost language, something close to words and so private. I'm allowed to hear the incantations but never their full meanings, only the need emitted. 

You squeeze and flood all around me and I can already feel the nectar trickling farther down, its heat never meant to survive in the cold. Every pulse willing me to no longer hold on, to give you what you have always craved. 

I was never the one in control.

I know this in the final few thrusts as I erupt spurt after helpless spurt of thick burning seed inside of you, legs almost bowing, barely able to stand as you milk the most intimate part of me, the most natural ancient exchange between two bodies. You cry out and my name only sounds this way with you, a secret and confession all at once. 

Your heartbeat still resides in my hand just as my pulse remains gripped in you. More thunder groans above, quieter this time, tense. Every beat slowing down in time and I don't want to let go yet but I have to. 

Slowly withdrawing, you face me and you're even more beautiful in the afterglow of neon and flushed skin, but your eyes are welling a little and I feel something in me softly break. That's the hardest pain to recover from, I've learned, the soft and sweet and slow break. I ask if you're ok and you step closer and hug. 

We don't say anything then, just cling tightly, lungs saturated in perfume, your hair, and our joining. I'm about to ask you to not pull away when you do, eyes still glossy from tears you refuse to give life to. I know this because my eyes are the same now. 

Fingertips graze my cheek, tracing, writing little messages, and you smile just a little when your hand reaches in a tiny pocket to retrieve and put your wedding ring back on. You look at my hand, a reminder for me to not forget to do the same. 

I'll wait. I want to just remember this first. 

I hug you one more time and even though we don't say it, we'll meet again. Here or elsewhere. Everywhere and nowhere. In the dark or light. 

But something was always special about colliding here in neon.