All I can say is...I have some freaky-as dreams some nights. This came to me like a cryptic message from above...I don't know how to make sense of it, so I wrote a chapter on it instead.

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I arrive at the door and the bouncer looks me up and down. He checks my ID, nods in approval, and jabs his thumb over his shoulder, indicating that I can go through.

My trainers make scratching noises on the gritty concrete floor as I walk down the corridor, getting more excited with each step. I reach the T-junction at the end where a cloak room is set up.

"Sign in and hand over your coat, please," the woman says.

I slip off my coat and hand it to her over the desk. I print my name in capitals and sign next to it.

"Valuables?"

At her prompt, I hand over my purse containing my money and phone.

"You can move onto the next section."

I turn right and follow the corridor further down. Music can be heard now, faint and thumping through the walls. I reach the open door at the end where all of the equipment is set up. My clothes are checked, and my leggings, trainers, hoodie and t-shirt meet the standards. I'm told to tie my hair up and then I'm giving a pair of safety glasses which I slip on. They look like clear sunglasses, they're not too clunky.

"Do you know how to use this?" The staff member asks when she picks up one of the guns.

"Yes."

"Great. Here's your ammo, come back to this room if you need more."

I take the string of balls from her and strap them around my waist. She clears me and I walk through the final doorway to the entrance.

"Ready?" Another bouncer asks, his hand resting on the door handle.

I make sure the safety is off my gun and nod. "Yep."

He opens the door and I hold the gun up to my face, aiming the crosshairs as I enter the battlefield. The ammunition is only paint balls filled with phosphorescent paint, but there is a dirty twist to this game.

The guns cannot support quick fire, there is at least 30 seconds between each discharge. Whatever item of clothing the paint hits; you have to take off.

The room is almost pitch black. The only lights are those carefully dotted on the ceiling or safety lights highlighting emergency exits. My body is tense and primed as I take a flight of stairs up to the first floor. Above the loud music, I can hear squeals and screams of excitement.

Set in a series of giant warehouses, connected together, and filled with corridors, small rooms and staircases, 'Glow' is a highly popular club in our city. I first came a year ago and I've loved coming ever since. There is a group of us that come most weekends and I'm out to find Enzo tonight.

Out of nowhere, a shot comes from behind and hits me on my back. The balls are softer than typical paint balls and don't leave any bruises. I quickly duck for cover under a nearby shelter and take my hoodie off. I place it into one of the nearby clothes bins; they're emptied at the end of each day and your clothes are sent back cleaned from glow-in-the-dark paint.

There are also coveralls hanging all over the place for you to put on if you lose a significant amount -or all- of your clothes. Down to my t-shirt, I hesitantly tiptoe out of the shelter, scanning the area for the person that got me.

I spot a girl running away from me and I shoot her on the back of the leg, smirking smugly when she has to stop and take her leggings off. I creep past her, uninterested in hanging around; I want Enzo.

I make it to the second warehouse. I go up another floor and it becomes darker. It's confusing when people run past with splashes of glowing paint on them, it's like neon blurs flashing past. One of those blurs manages to get me in the chest as they run past.

There goes my top.

In my bra and leggings, I continue through the building with a defensive crouch. I hear voices and I step to one side behind a wall. A couple go past, kissing and fumbling with each other. They enter one of the side rooms and lock the door behind them.

Someone comes up behind me and presses the barrel of the gun to my side. I tense up until I recognise his cologne.

"Gotcha," Enzo whispers in my ear and then shoots me in the ass.

I wince at the close impact of the shot. That one might bruise. Bastard.

I turn around to face him in the darkness. He smirks at me, and I notice that his chest is bare too and his neck has a few drops of luminescent paint on it. I take off my leggings and put them in the nearest bin. Enzo takes my gun off me and puts them in, too.

He turns back around and grabs my face to pull me in for a kiss. My half-naked body is pressed against his and it's so good to feel skin-on-skin again. I've missed this contact between us. With his lips still on mine, he backs me into one of the rooms. My eyes are closed but I hear the door close and lock, giving us some much-needed privacy.

His hands roam my body, and he makes quick work of snapping open my bra. I let my arms go loose so that it falls off and to the floor. He takes my breasts in his palms and kneads them as his tongue finds mine. He rolls my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. The wet patch in my underwear gets even bigger.

I'm gasping when he breaks the kiss and moves down my jaw to my throat. He sucks on the skin on my neck, leaving a hickey but I don't care. He nibbles at the sensitive skin until goosebumps appear on my arms. His hands drop from my breasts to my hips and squeeze. He slides them lower, into my underwear so that he can drag it down my legs. I step out of it for him and grab the back of his neck, bringing him down for another kiss.

His hand moves between my legs and parts my lower lips. His tongue parts my upper lips in heated kiss that involves the clash of our front teeth. I let my hand travel down his smooth chest to the waistband of his joggers. He helps me out by taking them off, his boxers go at the same time.

His fingers return to my pussy, parting my folds and feeling how wet I am. My hand wraps around his cock and I stroke his full length, feeling every hot, velvety-soft yet hard as stone, delicious inch of him. He pushes one finger inside me, wiggles it and then adds another.

I'm panting against his lips by the time he is done adding three fingers to me. I rock my hips against his hand, helping him bring me my first orgasm of the night. I know it won't be the only one if he has anything to do with it.

He grabs my wrist to stop me from making him cum, too. The drops of his excitement are weeping from the head of his cock and trickling down my hand. I slide my hand lower to his balls and cup them as he spreads my juices over my folds to make his entry easier.

He lifts me up so that my legs are around his waist. With one hand, he holds my ass, with the other, he lines up his cock. The blissful feeling of having him inside me hits as he slowly sinks in, savouring the moment just like I am. I love the build-up, the anticipation of us being together, but I love him actually being inside me even more.

"Enzo," I moan. "Please, move."

He pecks my lips. "Anything you want."

He humours me by drawing back and pushing forwards. He does this again and again, fucking me against the wall. My heels dig into the globes of his ass, urging him on. Each thrust is heaven, pressing me against the cold wall and filling me until I don't know where he starts, and I begin.

The slap of his balls -wet from my juices- against my ass sounds above the music. Our grunts and pants and moans can be heard, too. Sweat drips from his forehead onto mine, it mixes with mine and slides down my temples. It's hot in here and my body is tensed up with an impending orgasm.

"You ready, babe?" He asks through gritted teeth. "I need you to cum for me."

"Yes," I can only breathe the one word to him before the total pleasure of an intense orgasm hits.

My pussy convulses around his cock, and he lets out a long groan. He bucks against me, and I lean my head back on the wall, gasping out my own orgasmic noises. It doesn't pass quickly; it keeps going and going until my legs shake around his waist. The whole time he manages to keep holding me upright, he's amazing.

When we're finally done, he leans his forehead on my sticky one. We pant into each other's faces, our breaths mingling.

"Same time next weekend?" He asks breathlessly.

"You know it."

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Thank you so much for sticking with me and reading this far! L x