Jenniffer Griffin

I left Angelina’s place and drove to a bar in town. I had not been to the place before. The plan was to have a few drinks and go back home to sleep. Later, I would talk to my grandmother and explain the prank I had pulled off.

I walked into this bar and scanned the faces of the men in the room, trying to find one handsome gentleman who could give me the pleasure I deserved this night. There were a couple of men, but they were not my type. The first man to my right was older than me and looked like someone who would not survive a long ride. Behind him was a group of men, but they had the attitude of boys who would come to chat or harass me, so I looked forward and kept walking. Then I sat down on the stool and stared at the bartender. She had her hair in a ponytail.

She smiled at me. “What can I offer you?” she asked.

“Martini,” I said.

“Okay,” she walked to the bar, returned with a glass filled with martini, and put it in front of me.

“Thank you,” I said.

She bowed, smiled again, and took one last look at my boobs before turning to the next customers, two guys who were here to celebrate something about winning a contract.

I took a sip and brought out my phone. This was the kind of day I needed, Darius. But he hadn’t come around since the day I had let him go. I flipped through the names on my Whatsapp and found his name. Then I sent him a message: Hi.

Then I turned around and watched the inside of the hall. There was a couple in the hall at a corner. They were drinking tequila and grinning at each other’s faces. They had wedding rings on their fingers, and the lady had this aura of a butterfly in a cocoon. Calm. Comfortable. Smitten. They looked like a couple who had been married for years. Even though the husband was handsome and I would like to have him. As a sane person, I wouldn’t ruin what I saw. That would be selfish and hurtful to that woman, especially since they were both happy. Why would you ruin something good for something that wouldn’t last?

I lifted my glass of drink again and sipped. But if I could not get what I wanted, I would have no choice. He wouldn’t know if I existed, and they would never remember me again.

I kept watching and sipping my drink. He said something that made her laugh, and she held the side of his coat. My phone beeped at that point, and I looked at the screen.

Darius had replied: “Hey, are you at home?”

Of course. That was how I liked it. It was exactly what I wanted. Spontaneous. Direct. Give me what I want.

Me: Yes

Darius: Okay. I will be there in five minutes.

That was too fast. I would not get home in five minutes even if I drove fast. I lifted my glass of martini and drank what was left in it.

Me: I am waiting for you, honey.

I looked at the bartender. She was standing in one corner and seemed more interested in my cleavage and lips than what I was drinking.

“Please, give me another shot,” I said.

She poured me a shot, and I put two dollar bills on the table. I picked up the glass, and she took the money. Then took the whole content in one attempt.

I walked out of the bar and to my car. I was getting drunk, which was dangerous, but I wanted to get home on time before the full effect of the alcohol kicked in. I started the engine, and my hands were feeling shaky, eyes were a bit blurry. Then I drove out of the parking lot and hit the road, the car managing not to scratch the curbs towards the exit.

In the middle of the road, when the steering seemed heavier, I realized I shouldn’t have driven myself home. My head grew as if twice, and I slowed the car down so much that I felt I was being pushed along by some aging tortoise.

When I got closer to my house, my phone began to ring. It was Darius.

“I am around the corner,” I said.

“I am standing on the porch, like a thief trying to break in,” he said.

“Then step the fuck off the porch, you idiot.” I ended the call, put the phone down, and started singing this old childhood song I learned in church as a baby. All things bright and beautiful....All creatures great and small...

I arrived home some minutes later. Darius was standing beside his car in the parking area. I didn’t park the car properly before killing the engine and coming out.

“Hey,” I said.

He walked towards me. Maybe he was coming for a hug, but he got more than that. I kissed him.

“You are drunk,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, giggling.

He lifted me off the ground, and we headed into the house. I brought out the keys from my pocket and handed them to him. He put me down, one hand on my waist while he tried to open the door with the other hand.

With the door open, he helped me into the house again.

He already knew his way to the bedroom and went straight for it. Gently, he put me down on the bed, then took off his coat.

“It’s crazy, you know,” he said, “I didn’t know how I got to your house the other day. But it’s cool. You are hot and I think it’s worth it.”

I got up from the bed and removed my shoes, coat, and shirt. When it got to the trousers, he helped me pull them off my body. I lay on the bed in panties and a bra.

He watched me as I did all of that, then it was his turn. I watched him pull off his shirt, loosened his belt, and flung it to one side of the room. I tried to get up and crawled towards him, but he pushed me back, leaned on the bed, and unhooked the bra behind me. “Because of you, my girlfriend left me,” he said.

His hands came on my hands, then he moved them up my body and pressed them down. “Say thank you. You already want to leave, don’t you.”

“Well,” he said. “You are hot. So I don’t mind,” he said.

He held both of my hands with one hand and pressed firmly. His right came off the boobs, and he squeezed and caressed them. I held my breath and tried not to fight off my grip. It was hard to resist wriggling and moaning under his touch.

“Do you know I was dreaming about you before we met?”

It wasn’t a dream, you idiot. It was your brain trying to recollect what had happened.

I closed my eyes, bit my lower lips, and shifted my legs. “Your dreams finally come true,” I said, “make the best use of it.”

He smiled and leaned closer, slowly, his eyes staring at me as he leaned closer to my chest. Then he stopped with his lips an inch or less away from my nipple. I remained still but wanted him to take the nipple in his mouth. When he did, I lifted my head and tried to move my hands. His grip was still tight, reminding him he had control here.

His left hand moved down to my thighs, reaching to my groin, then the under the mounds. He touched and rubbed downwards to the clit. I lifted my waist and moaned.

“You are so hot,” he said. His hands moved up and down on the fabric of the panties. It felt warmer, and my brain could process my thoughts properly. When he pushed the panties to the side and slid one of his fingers into the wetness, I pushed back and moaned louder. What did I want at this time except that his hands were holding me and the way his hands made me feel so much pleasure, causing my waist to wriggle? I tried to say something, to express my excitement, or tell him to do more with the flesh. My words were incoherent. They came out directly from how they were formed in my brain. “Damn it, yes,” I said. He smiled, watching my face as I fought for words or kept still. One finger became two, and then I lost the battle of fighting. “Hmmmm, hold!”

He smiled and then stopped and began to rub the outer region.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, but he smiled.

“Be careful what you ask for...” he said, laughing. “Can you turn around for me?” he asked.

This command, I could obey. I turned around, knelt, and rested on my elbows. He put his around my waist, pushed his shorts, and took them off. Then his fingers came under my thighs and touched the clit, rubbing it several times. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe. His dick touched my opening seconds after that, and I raised my bum, waiting. First, the head of the cock, then his hands on my back, right at the base of my back, met the bum. He slid slowly.

“Hmmm.”

He slid out and went in again. It all started slowly, and I kept mute, eyes closed, head pressed down. Despite how much I held my lips, soft moans escaped through my mouth. I did that a couple of times until he began to thrust in and out much faster but rhythmically. Then, the moan came out of me effortlessly, like a hungry toddler crying for food. I held the bedspread to steady myself.

His moans came out in the same rhythm as he thrust in and out of me. I moaned to all of it, his moans, his grip, and his thrust. “I am coming,” I called him after a few minutes.

“Yes,” he said, “I heard you, sexy,” he said. Then he leaned closer, rubbed my boobs, and continued until I pulled my legs together and convulsed. Then I lay on my bed and could feel his fluid all over my thighs.

I patted his hair when he lay down on his back.

“I have never met a girl like you,” he said. “It’s so different. Everything.”

I rubbed his hair and watched his face. He stared back at me. At first, I thought he was looking at the breast, but he was looking at my face, grinning. I understood the look. He reached for me, put his hand on the back of my head, and kissed my forehead. “I am glad I met you,” he said.

But, no, I wouldn’t let him do that. This was a mutual benefit and nothing more. Nothing more would ever come from it. So I got up and walked to the bathroom.