𝖫𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝗂 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈

d u e║t w o

↬ a d r i a n n e ↫

I am currently applying my black eyeliner, making it sharper than Paul Wesley's fangs. I'm doing my makeup beautifully, like I always do, to go to a night club with my girls.

Partying has always been a regular thing for me to do my whole life, although I wouldn't say I'm a party animal, I do appreciate a little bit of entertainment now and then.

The muffled sound of my bell makes itself be heard, working as a cue for me to make the last retouching to my face.

"Coming!" I shout out to the door once I finish up what I was doing beforehand.

It must be Francesca, my very first friend when I moved here to Italy seven years ago, and one of my best friends at the moment.

We met in college when I was only eighteen and we've been friends ever since.

My hands, in a swift manner, turn the doorknob, "Come stai, ragazza? Pronta per la festa?" her blond hair appears on my front door as she spills the words enthusiastically. {How are you, girl? Ready for the party?}

With a joyful grin on my lips, I greet her with a warming hug.

"Honey, you look splendid," I tell her, eyeing her ocean eyes decorated by the pink smokey eyes as well as she plumped nude lips.

Exceedingly beautiful.

Just as I was about to take ahold of my designer purse to leave, her eyes start to wander around my living room, that in consequence of the minor fun I had last night, was all over the place.

My lingerie was thrown out on top of my lamp; my leggings and top were scattered across the sofas and my hair ornaments stood on the floor.

"What the fuck came to pass in here?" her thick Italian accent comes out as she talks while walking over the dirty room to give it a more generous look, "You are only getting wilder, Adri!" she exclaims smirking.

I scoff in annoyance. She knows how I live, and how things are with me, it should not amaze her.

My eyes follow her motions calmly, and shortly after I distract my gaze from her to take my bag from the table close to me, I look back at Francesca and find her sniffing my underwear like a fucking patrol dog. I swear she does the oddest thing.

This lady is another kind of interesting.

"Smells like 'daddy dick me down me immediately, I'm so fucking soaked'," she ridicules my voice while touching her couchie in a parodying manner, making me feel stupid.

What occurred last night should have never happened, I still can't believe I stooped to that low level. A police officer? C'mon!

Adrianne Jacobs can do much better than fucking a 'man of the law'.

But the sex was impressive. That officer did have some good traits within himself. And let's not talk about that dick.

Instances of the prior night start flashing back to me, and I don't know if I should feel satisfied with the good sex or disappointed at myself for making a man skip his duty to fuck me.