She moaned.
I smiled showing off my perfectly white teeth as I tugged on her bottom lip. She caved, letting me deepen the kiss. Heh, that was fast.
I squeezed her body to mine and she let out another one of those annoying sounds that I was guessing, she thought were sexy. Her hands traveled up to my hair and pulled roughly.
It was more painful than it was arousing.
I broke the kiss, which wasn't really that good considering how sloppy she was. Perhaps, I had bought her one too many drinks... Her hands gripped my collar as she lunged forward trying to reconnect our lips. I leaned back smirking. She pouted, making her collagen injected lips look even more puffed up. What's up with girls making this face? It's not cute, especially not with such a botched lip job. Well I guess they at least looked natural from a far.
Shoving her against one of the club's flashing pillars, I took both of her wrists in my left hand and I pinned them above her head. She shivered as my cold fingers began their journey down her side. With how thin her dress was, I could feel every ridge of her bony ribs. Ugh, don't tell me I picked another one of those chicks that starves herself...
She sighed heavily as I began to kiss her exposed collarbone. I nipped and sucked my way up to the nape of her neck. She squirmed against my hold with every caress of my lips against her sticky skin. Mmm... I absolutely love this feeling of control.
I sighed in mild contentment. Then I took a breath, inhaling deeply through my nose. How unfortunate that my sliver of contentment was shattered as I struggled to hold down my dinner. Her perfume... Ugh, did she pour the whole damn bottle on her neck? It smells like she got it for 70 percent off at a pawn shop. Gawd. I can even taste it.
A little pain with the pleasure, I can handle. Bad kissing technique, I can handle. But if you smell like the fertilizer for your aunt's petunias, now that's a whole different story. Holding my breath, I cringed. I could still hear--and feel--her panting in my ear.
Do I really need to get laid tonight? I braved another whiff. My stomach lurched. Hell no.
Damn. What a waste of time. I knew I should've gone for her full-figured friend instead. With that thought, time to ditch this popsicle stand. Turning my head to the side, I brushed my lips against the shell of her ear. I blew into it causing her legs to buckle beneath her. Great...now I gotta hold her up, too? Whatever. She's like 60 pounds anyway.
I spoke close to a whisper, "Thanks for the midnight snack, Sharon."
With that, I let go of my grip and watched her crumple to the floor. She sat there looking flustered and dumb-founded. Hey, at least I left her against one of the pillars and not just in the middle of the dance floor. Ha, that would have been completely insensitive on my part. Flashing her one last gleaming smile, I turned and began towards the entrance.
Sometimes it feels good to leave a girl once she gets fired up, even if it means missing out on a romp in the sack. So many of my fellow brethren have fallen victim to the c0ck teases that are women and are left with the aching reality of blue balls. You could say that it's my duty as an attractive male to make sure some of the opposite sex suffer the same dull ache once in awhile.
I reached the double doors of the club and I paused. Without looking back, I could tell that her eyes were burning a hole through my leather jacket. While basking in that thought, someone caught my eye. I lazily swung my head to the right and winked at a sultry brunette eyeing me up and down. I patted Ronnie, one of the bouncers, on the arm and told him to buy a drink for the lady and put it on my tab.
"You got it, Elliot. See ya tomorrow?" He asked, his arms crossed.
"Ahh, I don't know, man. Tomorrow's my day-off. Even I need a break from the club sometimes... But y'know... One more thing, Ronnie." I finally glanced back at Shelby... or was it Sheila? No, it was definitely Sharon, I think...
Anyway, she had finally hauled her bony ass off the floor and was brushing off whatever crap must have got on her designer dress. We made eye contact. She froze. Pfft! She looked like a deer in the headlights, I swear. She quickly tried to mask her embarrassment by making eyes at me and resting a hand on her hip. Is that supposed to be a sexy pose? I couldn't hold it in anymore. I busted out laughing. She narrowed her eyes as if she were annoyed, but I could tell what kind of heat she was shooting my way. Man, if she really wants me, she'll come find me or she'll go find someone else to do her. I mean--She's easy.
"Sure, Elliot. What is it?" Ronnie brought me back, smacking my back with his bearpaw-sized hand. Oh. Oh, my gut hurts. Hehe. Okay, I'm good. I cleared my throat and composed myself.
"Thanks, Ronnie. Heh, you see that stick thin chick across the room?" I pointed at Shel-- Sharon.
"The one in pink?" He asked with furrowed brows.
"Yeah, her. Send her and her booth two orders of wings, an order of sliders, two orders of nachos, and... and a dry spring salad. Oh, an tell 'em I know you were thirsty... but you need to be hungry. Also, the salad is for your friend. Haha. Yeah, that's good." I finished.
"Bro. I can call Nick if you're hungry. He's a waiter. I'm a bouncer, remember? I'm supposed to stand here looking intimidating, not make runs to the kitchen." He crossed his arms tighter, making his already bulging biceps look massive.
"Tch. Whatever, Ron. I thought I'd be doing you a favor. I've seen you checking out the new kitchen assistant. Paula, was it? Hahahaha! You're blushing!" I threw an arm around his giant shoulders.
"Ahh, shut it!" He sulked. I retracted my arm.
"Here, gimme your notepad. I'll write down the order and my message to the ladies over there, kay? All you gotta do is strut your way over to the kitchen and hand the note to Paula for me, alright? Oh, and tell her to put it on my tab." He handed me his pad as I scribbled the order, table number, and message.
After handing him back his notepad, I patted Ronnie on the back with a final thanks and told him I'd see him later.
I left that club at dawn with a smirk playing on my lips and smudged lipstick on my neck, satisfied.
>>>>>
Ahh... The beautiful birds chirping, the sun's spectacular rays gleaming, and Me: tired as fvck.
Goddammit! Why the hell did I forget to close my blinds?!
Crunching, I uncomfortably sat up and noticed that I wasn't even in my bed. I was on the couch ...so that's why it's so fvcking bright! I threw my arms up and stretched. Ugh, so damn sore. For such an expensive couch, you're not very fun to sleep on. Geez, why am I even here in the first place?
Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I tried to remember everything that had happened the night before. Let's see... I was hanging out with my friends. Then, I clocked in for work at the club. I clocked out. I stuck around for some dancing. Found a girl ready to smash and... Wait... No sex?! I rewinded my thoughts to when I was making out with the slut.
I was going to bang her then...ah-ahh...that's why...she smelled like Ke$ha. Yeah, who's up for sparkles, Jack, and sweat? Hey! As a bonus let's throw the lovely aroma of vomit into the mix! Sarcasm intended.
Remembering how she smelled had bile rising up in the back of my throat. I frowned deeply. No wonder I left the club early.
I swung my legs over the side of the couch. Errg...my legs were all cramped up from being in jeans all night. I looked down at my chest. I must've been real tired to not have even taken off my shirt. I always do.
I glanced back down at my fully clothed body. What the hell? It's my apartment.
I kicked off my boots as my fingers deftly unbuttoned my now wrinkled blue button-up shirt in the matter of seconds. At the same time, my other hand unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Zip. I pushed slightly and my pants pooled at my ankles. I shrugged out of my shirt and pulled off my socks. My thumbs looped the elastic waistband of my boxers. I paused before blinking and finishing the job of stripping. I stepped out of my pile of clothes.
Uhn, my legs feel so much better. Pressing my palms against the back of my head, I stretched in all my full glory in front of one of my floor length living room windows. Freedom!! Yawning, I proceeded to make my way to my bedroom.
Walking across the living room, I had this eerie feeling that someone was watching me. I turned my head to the left. Outside one of my windows, the old lady who lives in the apartment across from mine in the next building over, was standing next to her window looking ...very cross.
Now becoming quite embarrassed of the fact that I was stark naked, I quickly covered my d!ck and threw a cheeky grin her way. She returned it by sharply yanking her curtains closed, shielding her aging eyes from the sight of me. Well, then. Fine. She's probably upset 'cause this made her realize she's already gone through menopause.
I stuck my tongue out in childish manner then hurried my butt-naked self along to my stress-relieving part of the day, my morning shower.
<<<<<
I twisted the handle all the way to the left. Off.
I had finished my shower right on the dot, as usual I only used 7 minutes.
I wasn't afraid of being late for school because I knew that I always, and I mean always, woke up at exactly 6:45 a.m. I was never really sure why I started waking up so early. Maybe it's because when I was younger I would wake up to watch my mother work before I had to get ready for school. Mom... Hmph. Whatever.
Snatching a towel blindly from the rack, I wiped myself down and began to dry my hair. I didn't own a blow dryer. I figured my hair would just air dry the rest of the way and naturally look as sexy as it does, because that's what it does. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I stepped out of the shower.
I looked up from the tile flooring, and I just had to stop in my tracks. What I was looking at was so amazing, so sizzling hot, so handsome. That's right. You guessed it. It was my reflection.
I stared back at myself. Dark chocolate brown hair, puzzling hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, and a muscular, toned, sculpted body gifted from years of playing water polo. Complete with bronzed pecs, lean but very noticeable biceps, the V-lines heading to my ...southern region, and of course, the six pack that no girl could resist.
Oh, and just to add to this extremely conceited moment, my back muscles and ass could make any girl swoon. Or wet herself ...if you know what I mean. Hehehe.
Yes, I was blessed. With this head-turning body, in no way shape or form was I found below average. 'Cause yeah, my ...little buddy, is nothing to be shy about either.
That's right, me, Elliot Jameson, the guy who rules not only the night scene but John Crow High School, has the perfect package of skills and looks to get any ...really any girl I want.
"Just point the arrow and let it fly. Take the kill then let 'em die." My uncle, the guy who I owe all my success with the ladies to, the man who taught me everything, that was his motto.
Mine is a little similar. Shorter, though.
"They'll fall and I'll drop 'em." I mouthed in the mirror.
That's all there is to it.
My uncle wasn't related to me by blood, but I guess you could say we were pretty close. He was actually the first guy that gave my mom a chance at her passion for architecture. After he passed, without an heir or a wife he handed the rights of his company to my mother in his will, saying he'd know she'd take care of it. He owed us nothing, yet he practically gave us everything. No matter what people have said about him, he truly was an amazing man, really.
I stopped reminiscing of memories of my uncle and I, and looked back up at my reflection. My pained smile morphed back into the smirk my face was much more familiar with. I dragged a hand through my damp hair.
Heh, I could melt a stick of butter. I chuckled to myself.
Ruffling my hair a bit I glanced back up and said,
"Oh, yeah... I'm sexy and I know it."
I laughed to myself. Dorky. I know, but girls think it's adorable. Being a little goofy isn't bad. Plus, always acting as the bad boy can get boring. I mean have you read all the novels that have 'em?!
With that last thought, I left my bathroom and got dressed for my first day of my senior year.
I locked my door and whistled as I made my way to the elevator. After a moment, the stainless steel doors slid open. A tiny blonde in a tight sports bra and running shorts just as tight greeted me with a flirty wave. Heh. Too bad I don't have more time... and she's dressed for a marathon, too.
I stepped in.
"It's gonna be good day."
*****
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