I've had too much to drink. I can feel the red wine in my back, arms, and down to my toes. My face is flushed and my neck tingles. And God, I want her to shut up. I can't stand the way she's talking about her pussy being so hot and wet. I doubt she's made men come in a 30 second blow job, as she says. And I hate the way she demonstrated a lap dance. How dare she writhe that ass, while squeezing her breasts and moaning, just inches away from his body?
She licks her lips and I see my man's eyes follow the movement. I can see him imagining that tongue on the head of his cock, those full lips around the shaft. MY shaft. I glance down at his shorts and confirm my suspicions. Bitch.
"And the craziest place I've ever fucked someone is on top of the Empire State Building." She closes her eyes, is quiet for a moment. "I didn't come because it was so quick, but shit! It was fabulous. . .he just came up behind me, pushed me against the railing, hiked my skirt up, wham!" she shoved one hand against the other, showing us exactly how she had been whammed. "I just pretended to be looking at the skyline."
"Uh, more wine?" I say lamely. I get up and pour her a little, the dark liquid sloshing slightly onto the side of the glass. My finger caresses the spill, wiping it slowly from bottom to lip. Before I can lift it to my lips, she grabs my finger and puts it in her mouth. Her tongue slowly swishes around, wet and hot against my skin. She pulls it out, sucking loudly as she goes, biting the end. For once she doesn't talk and just looks at me. Before I can change my mind, I bend over and kiss her lips.