Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
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If there was one thing Harlow and I loved to do, one thing we were gonna do, no matter where we were; it was make out.
At that point, it was a tradition, a holiday celebration like Christmas, except it was once every day instead of once a year and there was no gift wrapping involved, just loads of tongue.
Although I was sure when Christmas came around this year, he'd wrap his cock in a colored condom and say 'cherry christmas!' or some cheesy shit like that.
I told him that and he laughed it off, but I could tell he was saving that phrase in the 'witty words' bank that his dumbass stored in the back of his brain.
I hadn't heard much of his smartass remarks since we'd gotten back to the club, but that might've been because his mouth was too busy fucking mine.
The atmosphere of the upstairs VIP lounge was seductive to say the least. The lights up here were all a deep shade of pink or red, blurring the faces of certain people around us, and while there was a bar, a smaller dance floor, and booths to sit at, the real action was in 'The Dancers Den.'
An open room near the entrance to the lounge in which there was a 70's style living pit with couches lining the walls.
It was tucked away into a nook of the building like a cave, and in the center of the pit were two poles with the most gorgeous dancers I'd seen so far, wearing next to nothing.
There were waitresses just as scantily clad walking around offering cocktails and sweet treat appetizers, several of which I could taste on Harlow's tongue.
But, I wasn't in the mood for sweets, I was occupied damn well enough by the temptation of his lips, constantly whispering dirty things to me as I straddled his lap and unashamedly kissed him wildly.
His lips were so soft even as he ravaged me; his hands gripping and groping every inch of my ass and hips.
Our game was kicked up a level and the competition was on.
I hated to say I was failing pretty miserably. Even on top.
Every calculated touch went noticed and challenged with a squeeze or a nip or a grab that shut me up.
I ground my ass down onto his stiff bulge slightly and he clocked it, holding my hips completely still with an iron grip. He separated our swollen mouths, "I thought I warned you not to fuck with me?"
His eyes were so dark and intimidating in the low light; his strong nose and full lips were barely outlined.
"I thought I told you I don't listen to you"
"Don't piss me off, freak."
"Awe, back to our old ways, are we? Y'know, I miss cranky you, almost much as I love the bubblegum sweet babe you are now. All that tenseness, all that... bitchiness and untamed 'tude, it was sooooo adorable." I tapped his nose.
