Katie pressed the bottom of her beer bottle to her eyes. The cold glass felt so good on her puffy eyes. Inhaling deeply, she raised the glass to her lips and took a deep pull. She spilled some beer on herself as she was jostled by her friends as they erupted in animated laughter. She smiled in spite of it, and tuned in to their lively conversation. The discussion du jour was how someone like Perez Hilton ever came to the conclusion that he was in any position to criticize people for a living. Lots of material there, and Katie giggled a few times over their wit combined with such an easy target. She felt happy to be out drinking with friends. There was something safe and unchanging about the ritual to go out and drink with friends that eased her current state of mind, which was: "Fucking men!"
Katie raised an eyebrow as she realized that she meant it both ways. It had been too long since she had been fucked, and the reason was because, Fuck men, Damnit! She was tired of the feeling of being wrung through an old fashioned washer, as some sadistic bastard cranked the drum and she was squeezed through, sobbing and desperate. Yet, she still wanted to fuck. Her pussy throbbed when her thoughts paused on the subject of good cock. Her crystal blue eyes appraised her friends gathered around the table.
Perhaps she could target a friend, knowing she wouldn't get hurt. Friends wouldn't turn you inside out. Friends wouldn't steal your soul. A friendly neighborhood fuck bunny. Her eyes paused on Paul. Paul. Tall, sweet. self- effacing. Pretty hazel eyes. Nice smile. Way too shy. She needed someone more brazen.
Her eyes settle on the loud one next to Paul. Dan. Swarthy, rowdy, dark, good looking. Not very tall. Too much to prove all the time. She needed someone more confident.
She rubbed a kink in her neck absently and moved on to Wesley. Fair, dashing, sophisticated, beautiful. She closed her eyes, imagining fucking Wesley. Wesley. Too refined, too cold. She needed someone with more passion.
Her eyes flicked right and lingered on Josh. She could imagine fucking Josh, but Josh had a girlfriend- and she was one of her closest friends. Who happened to be lovely and glowing and laughing right next to him. She smiled slightly at the ease of their relationship. Josh was leaned back on the lounge couch, grinning, chipping in every now and then, and Heather, who was leaned close to him, was much more animated in the conversation, yet they both look completely connected to each other. Josh absently traced the length of her spine with his fingertips as she leaned half way across his lap and conversed animatedly. Josh had a black celtic tattoo on his arm that peeked out from under his t-shirt and it rippled across his bicep muscle as his hand traveled up and down her back.
Katie shifted in her chair slightly as she realized she has become aroused by watching them, and was chewing off the inky dark polish on her fingernails as her chin rested in her hand. She extracted her finger and drained her beer.
"Anyone want another- I am going up for one." She held up her empty beer bottle and nodded as three waved their empties in the air.
She made her way through the crowd and stood in line to order drinks. She stretched her back and pressed her shoulder blades toward one another. She felt like her entire body needed to uncoil. A familiar cloudy anger descended on her as she thought about needing to uncoil. She knew who could unfurl her, and it just so happened to be that she hated him. He could make her uncoil like a cobra. The unfortunate part is that he would also pin that cobra down and leave once the belly was exposed in complete vulnerability. Not someone to try to get involved with.
She tried in the past to be that cool chick that showed up just to fuck him - because his cock was truly magnificent - and then leave immediately after because the rest of him can fucking suck one. She just couldn't pull it off. She ended up melting into a freaking puddle next to him as she became lulled by his warmth, enticed by his intimacy, drawn in by his danger.
She kept telling herself, "Get the fuck up Katie! You came, you conquered, now get up and leave!"
But his seductive liquid brown eyes were gazing into her, hypnotizing her. His strong hand was tracing the outline of her face, his thumb passing over the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her eyelash and then down to the soft pout of her pink lip. She even opened her mouth for his thumb, curling her tongue under it, drawing it further in and watching as his eyes darkened in desire. As ever, she responded to him quickly, and his warm, wet mouth replaced his thumb and they were doing it again.
She barely had time to catch her breath, resting her cheek on his broad chest, hearing his heart beat slow and regulate before he was rising to shower, to dismiss her ............ again. She actually growled out loud in feral frustration as he beat her to the punch. She thrashed around in his sheets in a tantrum and then shoved them all to the floor to get up and dressed. Impulsively, she shoved a vase off the bureau as she turned to leave. It hit the ground with a satisfying crash. Good, because, she really did hate him that night.
Katie snapped back to the present as the bartender leaned forward, hands flat on the bar. "Hey, pretty girl -- what you do want to drink?" Katie flushed, apologized, and ordered the round of beers.