Neon Orbit: Rave Encounter

The bass thumps like a heartbeat on steroids, vibrating through the warehouse floor where glow sticks orbit like rogue planets and bodies mash into a sweaty constellation. I'm Jackie, lost in the chaos of this rave, my skin buzzing from the neon haze and the pills kicking in just right. You've got that confident grin again, Joseph, the one that hooked me last time in your garage, all grease and grit under the hood of that beat-up truck. Tonight, it's electric, your eyes locking on mine across the crowd like we're magnets in a storm.

I weave through the throng, hips swaying to the relentless beat, and there you are—shirtless already, your chest slick with sweat, tattoos twisting like vines under the strobe lights. "Miss me?" you shout over the roar, that chaotic spark in your voice pulling me closer. I grin, pressing against you, feeling the heat of your body cut through the humid air. My top's a scrap of fabric anyway, and with one tug from your fingers, it's gone, leaving my breasts bare to the frenzy. No one's staring; here, nudity's just another layer of the vibe.