I looked up and locked eyes with the man across the bar. He was hot. Late thirties, greying at the temples, and sunken cheeks, which gave his face the illusion of danger. His eyes were bright with drink, and they were interested. I didn't smile, but I didn't look away. We continued to stare, neither one of making a move. We assessed each other, waiting to see who would be the dominant one. I wanted it to be him. I wanted him to know that I needed to have decisions made for me tonight. I lifted my bourbon to my lips, sipped, then licked my lips; an invitation that was accepted. He finished his drink and left his post across from me. I followed him with my eyes, watching him get closer and feeling my heart rate increase with anticipation. His body was lean but sturdy. He wasn't tall, but he carried himself with the confidence of a man who can see over the heads of everyone at a party.
Finally he was in front of me, and I was able to get a good look at his face. His eyes were brown, deep chocolate that seemed to swallow light instead of reflect it. They were framed by long, feminine eyelashes, giving his otherwise intimidating features a softness that made him approachable. His mouth was full, with a pronounced cupid's bow. His facial features were a curious blend of feminine and masculine.
We stared at each other for a few seconds, assessing and enjoying. It was nice to be able to study a man's features without feeling ashamed. So often women sneak sly glances at a man, but this visual feast was enjoyed without any embarrassment.
Confidence and adrenaline were pumping through my veins as his eyes roamed over my face, my neck, my chest, and my legs. I wasn't worried. My body wasn't perfect. I don't have the largest breasts or the smallest waist, or perfect, long legs, but he had walked over to me. He liked what he saw, and was using the opportunity to get a closer look. He eyes met mine, and I raised my eyebrows with a silent question.
Do you like? I asked without words.
He smiled. It was on.
"Hi", he grinned. His teeth were perfect.
I finally gave him a slow, slightly intoxicated smile. "Hi."
He continued to grin. "I saw you across the bar. I knew you were the person that I needed to come and talk to."
I picked up my drink and glanced at him over the top of it. "And how did you know that?" I asked.
He watched as I sipped my drink. I was feeling wild, confident. This was a feeling I'm not entirely used to: I was being seductive. I tried to show in my eyes that I was ready to be had, to get wildly fucked by a stranger tonight.
He waited until I had put my drink back down on the bar before he answered. "Because you don't look like any of the other girls in here."
My confidence wavered slightly. No, I wasn't 22. No, I didn't have perfect, large breasts spilling out of the top of a skin-tight mini dress covered in sequences. No, I didn't have on false eyelashes, or 5-inch heels, or have the body of someone who runs 15 miles a day.
I looked down at my drink. "Huh," I responded. I tried the self-deprecating humor that has never led me astray. "Yeah, you're right. It does feel odd being the only person in here not showing my nipples through my dress. Guess that's the kind of lesson you learn when you turn 27: do your best to show less tits to strangers in a club." I froze. Why the FUCK did I tell him I'm 27?
He smiled wider. "Well, that might be the case. Although I'm perfectly happy with what you did decide to show." He let his eyes wander down for a slow caress of my body. His eyes came back up to meet mine. "What I meant was that you're the only one in here who actually looks like a woman."
I shook my head slightly and gave him an indulging smile. "You know," I said, "you don't have to use those kind of lines on me."
"And why is that?" he asked.
I locked eyes with him. It took all the confidence I had to say the next line without letting a tremble enter into my voice. "Because I'm ready to go back to your place and let you fuck me."
His eyes widened. He looked down at my mouth, then let his eyes make one last trip down my body. He grabbed my hand. "Who do you need to tell that you're leaving?"
My heart rate started galloping. "My friends."
He pulled me off the barstool. "Text them in the cab."
He continued holding my hand as he led me out of the bar. All I could think about was remaining calm so my hands wouldn't get too sweaty and not tripping on my heels as he pulled me quickly through the throngs of people. The speed in which we were leaving the bar proved he was hot for me. I smiled at the back of his head, feeling more confident than ever. We made it outside where a taxi was waiting. He opened the door for me, waiting for me to slide to the other side of the car, then came in after me. As he grunted his address, I texted Caitlyn.
JUST LEFT WITH A HOT STRANGER. DON'T WAIT FOR ME. HE LIVES AT 34556 EAST 75TH. IF I DON'T TEXT YOU BY MORNING, SEND THE COPS TO THAT ADDRESS. LOVE YOU. DON'T BE OFFENDED WHEN I DON'T RESPOND.
I slid the phone back in my clutch and glanced over at my hot stranger. He was looking at me, doing the same appraisal of my body that he was doing in the bar. I waited for him to finish and look back at my face. "I hope you're okay with what you bought," I joked. I hope he took it as such, as my ego couldn't take the blow of a serious answer.
He stared at me. "Actually, I was thinking about which way I'm going to make you come first."
I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat. That was one of the hottest things anyone has said to me. I didn't know how to respond. So I just stared out the window.
We spent the rest of the car ride in silence. The tension in the car continued to mount. My mind was racing with all the possibilities of spending the night with someone I have never met before. I didn't even know his name. But the thought of having my body used for a stranger's pleasure, as well as using their body for my own made me wet. I kept glancing over at my stranger, drinking in his masculine good looks. Finally, the cab slowed to a halt in front of a brick apartment building. Before I could react, my stranger paid the driver and was hauling me out of the car. We quickly walked up the steps to his building, where he punched in his code. Soon we were walking through his front door. He walked into his kitchen, turned on a light, then turned to face me.
I placed my purse down on the counter and quickly surveyed my surroundings. It was a very normal, very nice apartment. Modestly decorated and sized. It didn't look like the home of a serial killer, so some of my anxiety about that eased up. I looked at my stranger on the other side of the room. I waited for him to speak.
"Do you want something to drink?" he offered.
I shook my head. No more waiting. No more talking. "No," I replied. "I don't need it."
He quickly nodded, then rounded the island, coming towards me with purpose. Our lips finally met, tinged with impatience. His lips were magnificent, full and defined and soft. He tugged my lips open with his teeth and slid his tongue in my mouth. I moaned. My hands slid up his body, over his chest, and linked behind his neck. His body felt hard and masculine. His tongue continued to slide over mine, aggressive and taking. My mind was blank to everything except the feel of his body and his mouth. My already primed body grew even softer and wetter, preparing itself for the onslaught that was going to come. His hands moved all over me, sliding up and down my thighs, arms, over my breasts. He broke our kiss and moved his mouth to my neck, licking and sucking at the skin just under my ear.
I couldn't stop panting. I was breathing so hard, a mixture of nerves, excitement, and arousal. Part of me was slightly embarrassed by it, worried that he would think it was too loud. But the other part of me, the larger part, couldn't give a shit. The stranger pulled off from my neck and looked back at my face. He grabbed the top of my dress and roughly yanked it down my arms and chest, exposing my bra. I silently thanked the stars that I decided to wear my hottest bra and panties, a set of black lace that was barely there.
He locked his lips with mine again and started to back me up. Suddenly my back was against the wall and my stranger's mouth left mine and fastened itself to one of my nipples. I sighed loudly and let my head thump into the wall behind me. His tongue bathed my breast while he used his teeth, giving me bites that shot pleasure through my body like lightning bolts. He drew my nipple into his mouth and let his teeth roughly drag over the tip. I moaned loudly. He left my breast and looked up into my face.
"You like it a little rough, don't you?" he asked quietly. I nodded quickly.
"Do you like it when I pull on your tits like this?" He took both nipples into his hands and tweaked them not too gently, pulling them away from my body. I moaned and nodded again.
"Tell me you like it," he demanded.
I let my head fall back against the wall again. "God, I love it."
He captured my mouth again in a kiss, continuing to pluck at my nipples. I could feel my wetness pooling in my panties. His hands left my breasts and went back to my clothing, pulling my dress down the rest of the way until it was on the floor. He pulled away from me, looking at my almost naked body while caressing my thighs with the backs of his hands.
