Rico

That stupid smiling bastard is still on your mind. The way he moves around gracefully, with ease. Makes you feel weak and suspended in disbelief as you undress him in your head. Feel Rico's scorching skin on yours. See his face smile seductively, as he leans in for- you snap out of your reverie as you feel warmth drip down your leg. You met Rico at the bar last night. His Nicaraguan cutting through his english sharply, while he bore directly into your eyes with his own. You must've had a couple drinks that night, because you leaned in for a kiss. Big mistake. The tall six foot Nicaraguan, scoffed at you, his eyes filled with disgust, a snarl forming on his face before turning into a wide grin. The grin of a wild, hungry wolf.

Roughly grabbing your chin he pulls you towards you before letting go and whispering into your ear "Little faggot, I'm going to have my fun with you and you're going to beg me for more." Reaching into the front of your jeans, he takes your phone, makes you unlock and puts his number in. You let him, transfixed, but in your head you scream loudly to stop him. "I'm not his bitch, I can take him. Goddamn it I have to at least try to resist." But the louder you scream, the more your body starts to slack, and the more you become hypnotized by his words, and his dark brown eyes. Maybe you like this. Rico reaches out again into your jean pockets, knowing how hard your member is stretching the fabric of your jeans, trying to get out. He knows this so he torments you by sliding his hands up and down your thighs feverishly until he finds your wallet and takes out your driver's license. Holding it in his hand, he mutters under his breath "Lo que una puta." and takes a picture of it, before leaving you alone at the bar flustered. Eyes now stare at you, a school of piranhas ready to bite into your flesh. All the while you try to suppress the hard boner you have in your pants.