I was going to the club that night with one mission. I just got out of six-month relationship with a guy I had nothing in common with sexually. He was boring, dull, and honestly—he couldn't please me how I needed to be pleased. I'll never make that mistake again. Anyway, I needed so badly to get laid—Hot, hard, and rough. So, I stepped in the door wearing a very revealing black halter top and white micro-mini skirt. Some might call it slutty, but hey, I was going to act slutty tonight.
I had never been to the club alone before, but I really liked noticing all the eyes on me as I walked through the door. I took a few quick glances around the room, checking out all the cute guys in the club. But then I stopped myself...I just looked at a guy and called him cute in my head. I didn't want a cute guy tonight—I wanted a HOT guy. The idea from the start was one night, and never talk to or see the guy again. I wasn't going to be all nice to any guy that hit on me tonight either. I was going to get what I wanted, when I wanted it.
Even as I walked back to the bar just a minute or two after I entered the club, I got hit with a few of the typical lame pick-up lines. All of which, by the way, I blew off immediately and didn't give any of the not so perfect 10 guys a chance. Then I saw him—the guy I wanted. And there was an empty seat by him at the bar. So, I made my way over casually and sat down beside him, checking him out even before I got to the seat. He was about 6'4, totally fit, and perfectly muscular.
I turned to him and gave him a little flirtatious grin as I said "Hi," which came across a little more innocently than I had intended. However, my worries that my greeting hadn't been impressive enough were immediately put out when the "Well hello there, gorgeous," response came out of his mouth, and his eyes wandered all over my body.
It wasn't really like me, but I couldn't help but to blush a tiny bit as he said that, I guess I was just a little out of practice. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked me with a smile on his face, as I'm sure there was a wide grin of approval on mine as well. Now normally, I would have accepted his offer and started a nice conversation with him that may have led to something later on in the night, but tonight was different. I decided to just put myself out there.
"Well gorgeous, you could, but I'd rather have you get me a drink out of your refrigerator." I said as I licked my lips seductively, just enough for him to see. I could already feel my heart beating faster and the adrenaline starting to rush through my body.
With a surprised but very satisfied look on his face, he gently put a hand on my thigh. "I...I don't even know your name."
"Maybe I'll tell you in the morning babe...but, don't count on it." I said to him as I started to stand up. Either he'd follow me or be an idiot, but either way it wouldn't matter. There were plenty more guys out there if he didn't want to hook up with me. Somehow though, I had a feeling this would be the guy who's bed I'd wake up in the next morning. And it turned out I was right, as following not even a step behind me was this perfect stranger, whom I knew nothing about, and would hopefully never know anything about, really. I reached my hand out just a little bit for him to take as we made our way out of the club, me leading by just a little bit the whole way.
We flirted heavily on the short five minute drive to his house. His hand slid up my thigh as he drove, I'm sure he could feel the wetness building over my lacy boyshorts. Besides that though, it was a little awkward, as I really had no idea what to say to him--Well, other than the fact that I wanted him to bang the hell outta me, that is. I just stared over at him and caught a couple glances back from him as I lusted after everything about his body.
I opened my own door to get out of the car, not giving him a chance to be a polite gentleman and open it for me. After all, I didn't want him thinking that this would lead to any kind of a relationship. We did hold hands as we walked into the house; however it was more so him wanting me in his bed more quickly than it was a romantic gesture.
He unlocked the door; we quickly walked into his house, up a flight of stairs, and into his bedroom. He pushed me firmly back onto the bed, and I bounced up just slightly after hitting the firm mattress. I leaned up a little so I could take off my halter top, getting it quickly over my head and throwing it to the floor. Almost immediately after I got it off, he landed beside me on the bed, before rolling over on top of me, propped up by a hand on either side of my shoulders. I slid both hands under his shirt to take it off, pulling it almost too eagerly, as my nail scratched against his face as I did so.