I feel my phone buzz from my small handbag and I pull it out to see my best friend’s name across the screen.
“Have fuuuun, Em! You’re finally free from that boring dickhead, you deserve to live it up, seriously, like, be one of those main characters from those smutty romance novels you love so much!”
“Thanks for the encouragement, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I text back, letting a small breath of relief for finally having something to do.
“You find someone who’ll finally eat you out, that’s what you do.”
“I don’t know why you keep bringing that up.”
“Because it’s fucking insane you’ve never had your pussy eaten. You’re 27 years old, woman!”
“Martin and I were together for 10 years, I never had a chance to do that.”
“That’s 10 years too long. And now you do, so get out there. Make sexy eye contact with someone and ride his face.”
“I think you’re forgetting a few steps there.”
“Get off your phone and figure out those steps for yourself! You got this, we made sure you looked hotter than hell tonight for a reason. Go crazy!”
I slip my phone back into my purse, taking a deep breath. Val, my best friend, and I did do a lot of work to get ready for tonight. I’m not a model by any stretch, but I did let her dress me up for tonight. My usual attire of thick chunky sweaters and flowy skirts wouldn’t have cut it for a place like this. Really, the only thing I let her do to my face besides my normal mascara was the lipstick. “Blowjob proof” lipstick, she said. She bet her left nipple it wouldn’t come off no matter what I did with my mouth.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on the shower before all that happened. Val threw practically the entire kitchen sink at me, all these sugar scrub exfoliants, shaving creams, moisturizers. She even gave me two different kinds of razors, for some reason, not sure why, considering I’m just really shaving one area. She also handed me a handheld mirror through the shower curtain so I could see what I was doing there. I genuinely didn’t know shaving my pussy was going to be this labor intensive. I’ve always opted for the neat trim before, but Val insisted that shaving hers increases her confidence, so I thought why not. She talked me through the entire process, probably while texting her boyfriend, as I showered. She did go call her boyfriend in the middle, though, leaving me on my own.
I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever looked at my pussy as much as I have during this shower in my entire life. My outer labia are surprisingly darker than I thought they would be, considering how pale I am everywhere else. My inner labia are almost flush with my outer labia so they barely peek through unless I spread my pussy open, which I do, because, why not? I was already down there anyway. Might as well get more familiar with my body considering the only action it’s gotten in the last I don’t know how long was solo, silent, and under the covers. When I checked myself out in the mirror after stepping out in the shower, I liked what I saw. I looked a lot sleeker and totally got what Val meant by feeling automatically sexier.
Back at the bar, I finish the last of my whiskey with a gulp of courage before I set it down and eye the people around me with intent. I came here with a mission. I was going to have fun, even if it made my insides jelly and my fingers tingle.
My eyes are immediately caught by a man’s gaze. He’s looking at me as if he’s been looking for a long time, and he likes what he sees. I let my eyes scan over what I can see of him from across the oval shaped bar, taking in his brown hair, his dark eyes, and broad shoulders, encased in a suit jacket. When our eyes meet once more, after my perusal, his lips hike up in a smirk.
I see his eyes run downwards, taking in the thin straps of my dress, his eyes linger long enough to probably notice beneath the skimming fabric delicately hugging my curves that I’m not wearing a bra. My girls may not be the biggest in town, but they’re certainly perky enough for me to pull off this ensemble. As his eyes trail back up my decolletage and neck slowly, a shiver runs down my spine.
I have to take a deep, slow, controlled breath when we make eye contact because I swear, everything in my body, my core muscles, my thighs, my pussy clenches, almost in anticipation. I can’t help but swallow as he stands from his barstool and makes his way towards me. He’s tall, and his frame is as solid as his shoulders indicated from when he was sitting across from me. His very walk oozes confidence and when he leans his hip against the bar close enough to me that I can smell his cologne I swear my blood turns to lava.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, his voice deep and as smooth as his confident stride. “My name’s Luke.”
I have to swallow and clear my throat a bit before I’m able to talk like a normal human. “Emily, nice to meet you, I’m new here. First time.”
“Ahh, I see,” he nods. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.” He raises his hand to wave the bartender over, giving me a good view of his side profile, his strong nose, his smooth jaw, and a smattering of freckles on his neck.
“Someone like me?”
Our eyes connect once more, sending another shiver down my spine. “Someone so… innocent.”
I almost jerk backwards as if he’d struck me. I tried so hard to get myself into the mentality of a sexy, confident, desirable woman. I tried so hard when I was giving myself silent pep talks on the Uber ride here and I tried so hard when I was with my ex. I guess being seductive just wasn’t for me.
“I meant no offense by it,” He says, probably noticing my obviously crestfallen expression, his voice going kind and soft. “It’s cute. In a place like this you’re almost angelic.”
My eyes fall and I give him a small nod.
“Truly, I didn’t mean that as a negative thing,” he insists. “Here, how about I buy you a drink to make up for it.”
“Oh, no, it’s ok, don’t–”
“I insist. Please.”
The bartender takes my order and in a flash is sliding two new tumblers of whiskey over to us. I immediately grab for it and take a long sip. I need more liquid courage to be in the vicinity of this man.
“Thank you for the drink,” I say after setting my glass down.
“Cheers,” He says with a half smile, tipping the glass to me before he takes a sip of his own.
If my blush is as strong as my cheeks feel, I’m probably as red as a tomato.
“What brings you here?” He gestures to the bar and presumably the rest of the club.
I’m not sure what compels me to be honest with this stranger, but I don’t even realize what I’m blurting out. “I’m here to go crazy. I don’t want to be the innocent girl anymore, I want to be a sexy woman.”
One of his eyebrows lift as he looks me up and down once more, seemingly taking me in, in a new light. “Just because you’re innocent doesn’t mean you’re not sexy as hell.”