A Kiss

I stormed through the bar until I found Elliot, grabbed his hands and slapped them on my backside. Leaning forward, I **** my lips against his for a sloppy kiss. No tongues, just leaving my mark with a few suculent kisses.

Breaking free, I purred, “You can wank over that tonight.”

“I’m sure I will.” Elliott then lunged at me and gave me a second... Sloppy kiss. But this time there was tongue. I lost control for a brief second and let him kiss me like a **** teen. Our tongues dance like slippery snakes and I almost feared he would lick my tonsils.

I finally broke away, then slapped his chest. “That's it. I have to say goodbye, Elliott.”

"Shame."

I smiled, stroked his chim. "Goodbye."

I turned. And headed out of his life. Forever.

~

As me and Monica walked the cobbled street, I asked, “What happened to the guy at the bar?”

“Nothing. I just felt I could do better. Merely warming myself up. Yours? He seemed young. Barely out of school.”

“He was too young. Nice guy though. He reminded me of the interns at work.”

“I thought so. I think you need to go up a level. Play with a bit more experience.”

I nodded. But wasn’t sure. I like being in charge.

We finally reached the crowds. There were drunks everywhere, men and women. All the worst for wear. Needless to say the police and door staff were kept busy.

Monica naturally picked the seediest club for our next adventure.

The club was a meatlocker. Humid, crowded with the hint of sweat and vomit. Not my sort of place. It was also full of northern lasses baring more flesh than a butcher’s window. To be polite, two thirds of them were generously portioned. Big boned would be another description. Or as Monica put it… fat.

After buying a cocktail each, maybe not the best idea, but who’s to judge, we made our way across the moodily lit dancefloor. Monica held my hand and gestured around, shouting over the RnB. “With your looks, you should have the pick of every man in here.”

“You think too highly of me.”

“Dance. And watch them come.”

And indeed they did. In their droves. Like a herd of cows following the promise of food, craning their necks of have a look at what I had to offer. I enjoyed the attention. Being ogled reminded me of my past as the most popular student. The one every man in class wanted on their arm… or more accurately, on their bed,

We danced to the electronic music which had fortunately slowed a little. It allowed me to move seductively and promote my figure to the punters.

Would there be interested punters?

~

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