Nacelle walked into the club, and as always, she had been let in instantly, her beauty buying what money could not. She was solo tonight, and didnât have a problem with that at all. She figured that her own company was the best company, and she didnât want to deal with her friends that night. All she cared about was what she had been deprived of so long, going out with the bastard that she had caught cheating on her with some plastic infused blonde. Ah, the problems of life. Nothing that one night of sex with a complete stranger couldnât handle. Besides, she felt perfect, immaculately beautiful, and indestructible in her own way. She had gotten ready carefully, knowing that this was her night, and that she needed it to be perfect. It didnât matter that this was socially and morally wrong, the careless, premarital sex. All that mattered, at the moment, were satisfying her needs.
She walked over to the bar and sat down, not bothering to fix her skirt, letting it ride as high as it wanted. She flagged down the bartender, and ordered a grasshopper, tipping him generously. She didnât plan on drinking a whole lot tonight. She wanted what she wanted, and it was not to sit around all night and get sloshed. She sighed as she looked around the club, noticing the loud music and the hard bodies moving at a fast pace. What she didnât notice was the man at the end of the bar, staring at her.
Justin was taking in everything about her, from her long dark hair cascading down her back, to her exposed thighs, barely covered by the black leather skirt that she wore. She was clad in a maroon woven silk strapless top, her breasts threatening to spill out at any second. He licked his lips, and felt something start to stir in his pants. He cursed slightly, for this wasnât exactly the perfect time to expose himself. She slowly uncrossed her legs, and then crossed them again, exposing even more leg, if that was possible. He gave an internal moan. He was absolutely fighting the urge to jump over the bar and rip off what little clothes she had on, and fuck her brains out. He smoothed out his shirt and looked away, not wanting to embarrass himself with a hard on.
Nacelle soon got tired of stirring her drink, and got up from her seat to walk to the bathroom. Maybe she would find someone on the way. She walked toward the back, and not looking, bumped into someone.
âOh, Iâm sorry.â She was about to go on her way, but she looked up, and noticed the most handsome man looking in the other direction. He turned around quickly, and slightly jumped.
âNo, it was my fault, completely.â Justin was stunned. This was the woman that he had been drooling over less than a minute ago. âSo,â he said, never taking his eyes off of her. âWhatâs your name?â
She looked at his face, which was nice, accentuated by nice blue eyes and cute curly hair. He was tall, and wore a tight black shirt, revealing his chest muscles. Absolutely perfect. She decided to throw all modesty and shame out of the window.
âMy name is Nacelle. Before we talk any more, why donât you come to my place? I have alcohol, and a really soft bed.â He was startled. Usually, he had to put a little effort in trying to get a woman. This time, all he had to do was bump into one. How could he refuse?
âHell yesâŠâ He murmured, and she instantly grabbed his hand and led him out the door.
âWhere the hell is your car?â She demanded. He pointed to a Beemer halfway down the block. She tugged on his arm, dragging him roughly toward his own car. The top was down and she noticed it was a clutch. âOh man, a manual⊠let me drive it.â He just smiled at her, amazed at her forwardness, and tossed her the keys. They both got into the car and she gunned the engine, placing her hand on his stick (no pun intended).
The ride to her apartment was driven in silence, both anticipating what they were going to get. When they arrived, she threw her purse down and pulled him into the door, slamming it behind him. She immediately pushed him against the wall, her hands on his chest. She could feel it harden beneath, and she smiled. âLook, I donât want you to think Iâm some kind of whore. I donât do this on a regular basis, and I donât want any questions asked, please? Oh, and your name wasâŠ?â