2. Sexy stranger
2495 Words
Steps on how to lose your V card- If I’m writing this by now, then I most likely popped the champagne. I hope my ass doesn’t start exhibiting Phallophobia I.E; the fear of erect p.enises.
Hurricane by Kanye West.
I have an unhealthy obsession to this song.
As soon as it comes on, my personality changes from sweet Leilani’s bestie to rapper from the Bronx.
According to Leilani, My love for rap music is the only thing that makes her remember I’m not a white cis female.
My father is Nigerian and my mom is Norwegian.
While my siblings are much darker than myself, I’m lighter with dark blonde hair. It’s like my creator forgot my father was black when he was mixing in the ingredients to create me.
I have very curly hair that some prejudiced i.diots call a Lion’s mane and say it would look better if I straighten it.
Leilani and my friends prefer to call me Halima (Hali or Hals for short) because my main name Cleo sounds like a very non Nigerian name(according to them).
“Move your hips!” Leilani yells over the loud music.
“You’re rapping! Not seducing!”
“Right right!” I yell right back, doing what she tells me to do.
Her hands holds my hips and lead them into sensual gyrating movements that makes me feel good.
The alcohol buzzes in my veins and I’m not self conscious about the way my waist moves, about the way my hands are thrown into the air or how I still manage to sing along to the song.
Soon, she leaves me and almost immediately, I feel a clad boner pressing into my ass.
I still, trying my hardest not to freak out and run away. It’s no news that I’m afraid of d.icks and what they can do to me.
Phallophobia.
Erotophobia.
Name them all- I’m always rattled by the thought of it.
The hand around my waist caresses it softly and sways my hips to the sides to get me moving.
A drink is thrown into my hand from wherever and like the impulsive I.diot I am, I drink.
And forget that someone is expecting me to twerk on his d.ick.
I dance freely and excitedly, fumbling over whatever the lyrics of the song may be.
I know I should be worried about the excessive hands on me but I don’t care when I’m dancing to f.ucking Doja Cat.
She’s my god and while I listen to her, I’m the main character.
Whatever this horny Dude does to my ass is his business.
I talked too soon.
Suddenly, he bends me over until my hands are supported by my knees.
What?
He starts imitating rough thrust movements over my ass and all the alcohol I drank for the past Thirty minutes or whatever drain out of my system.
What the hell?
I struggle to get out of his iron grip but he doesn’t f.ucking budge, still humping me on the dance floor.
That’s until he’s no longer there.
I stop screaming when I realize that for the past few seconds, no one is touching or harming me.
I straighten up and look around me to search for my friends but they’re nowhere in sight.
Turning a good 180 degrees, I see a large hunk of a man with a piggy mask sprawled on the floor.
Is that the disgusting bastard that was humping me?
I lunge towards him without considering it and try to punch him on the stomach because I’m too freaked out by that f.ucking weird piggy mask but a pair of strong arms hold me back from being stupid.
I thank my luck for that because people are tripping over his frame and falling over.
When I turn around, I’m met with the brown eyes of a hunky man in a suit.
I can tell he’s a bouncer.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the dancing crowd then takes me towards the bar.
I’m guessing he wants to talk because it would be too hard for me to hear him over the music.
“My boss asked me to help you out because that piggy mask guy is a bit.... mentally unstable. He would like to see you” he informs me.
My eyebrows shoot up way past my hairline.
“See me?” I repeat, tilting my head to the side.
“Yes” he nodded.
“He would like to personally apologize over the incident. If you’ll be kind enough to follow me” Before I can accept or refuse, he starts walking away.
I cling to my black purse and follow him like a lost sheep being led back to its herd.
We walk past the VIP booth that we were once in and Johnny is sucking face with someone so he doesn’t notice me.
As I’m being led through another flight of stairs and hallway I didn’t notice earlier, my heart begins to pound in my chest.
The floor vibrates with the Loud music and the right wall of the hallway is covered in glass that offers me a view of the dancing crowd underneath us.
However, the most audible thing I can hear is the click of my heels against the tiles.
It’s a bit silent around here and I’m beginning to get scared.
What if I’m being led to some mafia boss dude?
I’ve never personally seen one but come on, I live in New York and everything happens here.
My crazy thoughts are paused as a door is held out to me.
“Alpha, she’s here” the bouncer says into the room.
Alpha?
Is that some code name for a Mafia boss?
I roll my eyes at myself.
I’ve been reading a lot of Mafia themed books lately and sadly, I have been fantasizing about meeting a Capo, boss or underboss.
I’m stupid I know.
Moreover, I heard that Mafia men aren’t exactly hot in real life.
I shouldn’t be fantasizing about icky bald men.
“Alright. Have a lovely evening miss” he informs me before heading back into the hallway he led me through.
Inhaling slowly, I walk into the room.
It’s probably a VVIP room.
The lights are low and red and the room is in the shape of a cube.
There’s a table filled with drinks and black booths line across the walls of the room.
As soon as I see him, I forget about inspecting my surroundings.
Wow.
Wow.
Oh wow.
As I stare at this hot, dark and mysterious stranger, there’s only one thing that comes to my mind.
My taste in men has finally gained flavor.
All my exes looked alike.
White cis male with brown hair and a medium build.
But this one, he’s different and his difference stands out like a sore thumb.
A sore, sexy, godawful sexy thumb.
He’s not white nor brown haired and God am I attracted to him.
He watches me like a panther in the darkness, captivating honey eyes lurking around my entire frame.
His upper half leans back into the plush black booth and the hand wrapped around his champagne flute tightens.
His gaze over me is deliberately slow.
He inhales slowly and his eyes trail over every inch of my dress and legs.
I can tell he’s undressing me with his eyes and every part of me likes it.
He keeps doing the same thing over and over and I can tell he’s undressing me, putting back my dress and taking it off again.
I know he’s not a cannibal. I know my skin doesn’t taste like honey. I know my body isn’t palatable.
But there’s just something inside me that’s begging him to bite me.
I want him to bite me.
I want his mouth latched to my own skin.
The sexy stranger sucks in a low breath and his fingers brush against the opening on his shirt.
Is he hot? Does he feel as hot as I do?
My eyes dart towards the opening in his shirt and I stare long and hard.
His chest looks so firm, so hard.
I want to touch his chest.
God, I want to rip his shirt off and touch his chest and maybe lick his abs.
Suddenly, he stands up.
He’s so tall. It takes nothing but three long strides for his legs to eat up the space between us.
My stomach does weird uncomfortable flips and the hibernating butterflies are brutally shaken awake.
His honey gaze holds magnetic eye contact with my brown eyes.
He is so close I can see something flicker and lurk in those eery eyes of his.
I thought he’d keep being so silent but I was certainly not prepared for him to part his luscious lips and speak.
“Can I take off your mask?” He asks.
His voice is so deep it rattles me.
We aren’t making any contact but I can feel the pulsating vibrations of his voice.
It’s so attractive.
I nod mutely, too star struck to speak and wait for him to take it off.
His hands are shaking and slightly clumsy but he finally takes the Kitty mask off.
Maybe he’s much more drunk than his demeanor is letting on.
Maybe I’m assuming things.
Maybe he’s not as attracted to me as I am to him.
“I couldn’t come to get you out of there myself” he mutters, brushing away a curly lock of hair from my face.
He doesn’t say sorry but it feels like he is apologizing.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, looking up at him.
I am tall but then, he’s tall.
Like, tall tall.
“I don’t dance” he replies.
He’s not moving.
His eyes are still holding me captive, watching me intently.
I’ve never met anyone that expresses so little and is so vague.
His mysteriousness intrigues me.
It should be a red flag but then, all I see is red when I’m near him.
Red feels so right.
Red is the color of this place.
Red is the color of blazing passion.
“Then what did you come here to do?”
He doesn’t answer immediately.
Instead, his eyes dip to my dress and he watches the flesh of my thigh peek through that slutty slit.
A faint smile hovers around his lips but I wasn’t sure if it was a smile considering how fast it disappeared.
He looks back at me and I swear, there’s a fire burning in his eyes.
“The same thing as you”
I know I’m not confident and I never voice out what’s in my head.
I know it’s the alcohol that makes me say the next thing that rolls out of my tongue.
“Then let’s get out of here”
Ha, except I didn’t say that. I’m too shy to insinuate that we should hook up.
But I really want to.
He’s so insanely attractive.
A faint smile hovers around his lips but it’s gone before I can say Jack.
I stare at his low beard covering half of his face.
It’s full and it’s hot.
My eyes dart towards his low hair cut in a fade.
I want to scatter it with my fingers.
I want to scream and cry at my horny mind and traitorous body,
Why am I so attracted to him?
“Wait” he says, looking down at my hands.
Does he want to hold them?
“I haven’t apologized to you”
Soon, I’m reminded of that piggy mask dude on the dance floor.
Did he see that?
God I’m embarrassed.
I tuck my horny thoughts away as I flush and turn red.
A small chuckle escapes his lips as he retreats to the table and pours in a drink for me.
The bottle looks so damn expensive.
“Here,” he informs me, handing me a drink.
“Thank you”
I gasp softly as my fingers brushes his.
Sparks explode where we touch and it turns me so putty I might just throw away the drink.
I look into his eyes in confusion, wondering whether he feels the same thing that I do.
His jaw ticks and I can tell that he most certainly does.
“I’m sorry about that guy. I really am. I’d like to compensate any way I can” he rumbles.
He doesn’t talk, he husks. It’s because of how deep his voice is.
I’m so whipped.
I quickly swallow my drink to reply.
“It’s fine,” I shrug, going to drop the drink on the table.
If I drink one more time, I might throw up or pass out.
I don’t want to do that when I’m around a stranger that makes my senses go haywire.
I turn around sharply and shiver when I see how close he is to me.
I should be worried about how a big man moves so stealthily but I’m distracted by His cologne and how good it smells.
“You’ve apologized” I say, looking up at him.
“What next?”
I blush so hard as soon as I say that.
His honey eyes sparkle and darken as he wraps a hand around my waist.
My mouth makes a small ‘O’ as I look back at him.
Mischief and l.ust is so evident in his magnetic honey gaze.
“Next, we find out if you’re attracted to me as I am to you”
“W-what?” I squeak, too shocked.
I didn’t think he’d go straight to the point.
Once again, that vague and faint smile of his drags back his luscious lips and reveals a sneak peek of his sparkly dentition.
“I’m going to kiss you, Cleo” he announces his intentions, cupping the back of my neck with his other hand.
How does he know my name?
The sparks explode on my neck and travel down my spine so fast it turns me into pudding.
He hasn’t done anything but I’m already hot and throbbing for Him.
He massages a certain spot on my neck and a moan slips past my lips immediately.
I am beyond mortified but he seems to like it.
I know I sound like I’m crazy but his honey eyes darken till they are almost black.
It’s just the alcohol! It’s just the-
“Mate,” he growls and shuts his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine.
I am certainly too drunk to understand what he means by that but I want to apologize for moaning.
He just touched my neck and I had gone ahead and moaned!
God I’m such a s.lut!
“Don’t worry,” it’s as if he knows what I was about to say.
“You’re going to keep making that sound until you realize just how much I like it”
And with that, he kisses me.
- Writer
