“So, are you girls single?” one guy named Aaron asked me as I danced near the back bench he was sitting on.
I shook my head. “I’m not, but my friend Kendra is.”
I glanced over and saw Kendra grinding and making out with one of his friends, clearly already having taken her pick of them.
Aaron smirked at me playfully. “So your boyfriend doesn’t mind that you’re dressed all sexy like this and partying it up tonight without him?”
I laughed. “He bought me this outfit first of all, and secondly… no, he’s not jealous like that. He actually likes it when I’m a bad girl.”
He grinned at me and sat back to watch my long legs as I danced. The lusty look in his eyes, combined with the thrill of his attention on me, encouraged me to dance a little sexier, enjoying teasing him just as much as he was enjoying the show I was putting on.
“Hmm… I’m pretty sure you’d be in trouble if he could see you right now.”
“Not even close,” I assured him with a wink.
Encouraged by my comment, he stood up and came a little closer, leaning against the railing.
“So how bad are you allowed to be?” he asked with obvious interest. “Theoretically speaking, of course.”
I laughed and took another sip of my vodka soda, pausing for a minute and suddenly realizing how drunk I was. I could feel the intoxication of the alcohol combined with the rush of the cocaine Kendra and I had been doing bumps of giving me a kind of euphoric overconfidence. I hadn’t partied this way in a long time and the buzz was exhilarating, making me feel bolder than I normally would have. I leaned into him, smelling the scent of his aftershave and feeling the warmth of his chest as I whispered into his ear.
“I’m allowed to be very bad. In fact, that’s actually part of his fantasy.”
“Oh yeah? Your boyfriend fantasizes about you being a little slut, does he?” I could feel the sudden shift in energy as he picked up on an obvious opportunity.
“Very slutty,” I said, thinking back to all my kinky conversations with Matt and all the hot sordid sex that always followed.
I began to imagine how intense it would be if I had a real story to tell him this time. I felt my panties start to dampen in response as I fanned myself lightly. The night was suddenly feeling very hot with possibilities. I started turning the idea over in my mind while I looked out over the dance floor, leaning forward on the railing with this random good-looking stranger. The wheels started spinning in my mind, effectively daring me.
“Maybe it’s time you turned that fantasy into reality…” Aaron urged with a wink.
I remember laughing again in response, feeling the swell of my drunken high lulling me into the excitement of making a bold move. Finally with an unexpected decisiveness, I turned to him and smiled.
“Why don’t you come with me…”
The next few hours seemed to pass in a hazy mess of drunken hedonistic debauchery. It was near closing time and I was still in the VIP bathroom, leaning against the door.
“Are you sure you’re able to get home ok? Your friend left with our buddy ages ago,” Aaron said.
I grinned at him, waving my hand dismissively. “I’m fine, I just have to make a quick phone call.”
I watched Aaron walk away and moved back into the bathroom and closed the door, looking at my reflection in the mirror and the wicked smirk playing on my lips as I waited to hear Matt’s voice on the other end of the cell phone. When he answered, I felt a little electric thrill rush through me, especially as I sweetly began to beg him to come pick me up at the bar.
“Kendra left already and I don’t have enough money for a cab,” I said. “Please come… I promise I’ll make it worth your while…”
He laughed, although clearly not impressed by how late I was calling. Of course, he decided to humour me.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes, but make sure that you’re out front.”
I hung up and ran my hands through my sticky hair, trying to smooth down my rumpled skirt. Thank god for long hair. I let it partially hide my face as I waited just the right amount of time and then snuck across the mostly empty bar to the front door. I saw Matt’s large black SUV pull up in front of the bar and I hurried outside, thinking that the warm August night still felt cooler than the hot blood and burst of adrenaline running through my veins as I slid into the passenger seat.
“Hey,” he said glancing at my messy hair, and flushed wet face. “Wow, you look like you must have been dancing up a storm.”
I laughed mischievously. “Something like that. Hey, pull into that parking lot for a second. I wanna tell you something.”
“Seriously? Can’t it wait until we get home?”
I just grinned wickedly at him. “Nope, I can’t wait that long.”
He was looking at me with a kind of curious suspicion, clearly uncertain about what to expect as he obliged me by pulling into the dark empty parking lot one street over. He put the car into park, and turned to me, amused by my obvious energy and excitement.
“Wow, you’re sooo drunk. Were you girls partying a little harder than usual?”
“Hmm… maybe just a little harder,” I teased, reaching over him and pushing the buttons to move his seat back as far as it would go.
“Aww, Stacey, why don’t we just go home to our nice big bed and our…”
“Shhh…” I whispered, pressing my finger to his lips. I giggled, pressing a little harder on his full bottom lip, forcing them to part until the tip of my finger was in his mouth. As I slid it in a little further, I watched his reaction slowly begin to change. His green eyes widened just a little, obviously recognizing a familiar and yet unfamiliar taste.
Before he could say anything or protest, I moved quickly, sliding into his lap, firmly straddling him, and feeling my short black skirt riding up my thighs.
“I don’t want you to say anything just yet,” I whispered hotly, as I raked my hands over his chest. “I want to tell you all about my night.” I leaned into him, pressing my lips against his neck, and leaving soft biting kisses in my wake. “All about my long… dark… ever so dirty… night.”
I could feel his body stiffen and he drew in his breath sharply. “What the fuck,” I heard him murmur with sudden shock and confusion. I knew he could smell it on me then. That unmistakable scent of sex and the aftermath of sweat and semen. In the darkness of the night I could smell it too, in my hair, and on my skin, still wet on my cheek and beginning to puddle in my soaking wet red thong as my legs splayed out to grip his thighs in the front seat of the SUV.
“I was a very bad girl tonight,” I teased him, as I let my hands trail down his muscular chest and linger on the buckle of his jeans. Finally my hands moved down further and I could feel the unmistakable bulge in his pants, letting me know he was just as aroused as I was. “In fact… I wasn’t just a bad girl… I was positively filthy.”
I watched the quick rise and fall of his chest as he began to process the implications of what I had just said. On so many occasions before I would have teased him this way verbally after coming home from a night out. But the reality of the situation was not just implied this time. It was real. He reached up to twine his fingers into the damp tangle of my long blonde hair, lingering over the hardening sticky patches, his eyes wide with disbelief.