Alternative Ending

9 Dec

Inside the club, music blasting, I’ve had about 4 shots of whiskey, and I’m not too drunk, just drunk enough to be a little more out there, a little less reserved, and S and I are dancing away, carelessly touching one another on the arm or shoulder, laughing. He’s really very handsome, tall and slim, but not scrawny, he definitely has a presence, and a gigantic smile that is so dominant that it almost pushes all his other features aside. And he’s French for god’s sake, with an accent and everything.

We’re dancing, closer than before, when I suddenly realize our friends have left us alone on the dance floor, it’s just us now, and it’s that song that I like in the background as his hand touches my back, sending waves of electricity through my body. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by a man. His hands are warm. They are on my waist now, holding me as I lean into his ear. I’m planning to say something like: So… Are you going to kiss me or what? But his English is bad, and the music is loud, and I get a feeling I will not have the guts to ask a second time, so I go for the very straight-forward: Let’s kiss. He looks at me with a combination of surprise and amusement. For a second I prepare myself for the rejection I am anticipating. Too good a dancer, I think. He must be gay.

But then he’s leaning closer to me, pulling my waist closer toward him, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. And then his lips are on mine. Slightly parted, they envelope my mouth, wet and warm. My knees are weak. His hand is in my hair as we sink deeper into the kiss, our tongues wrestling, our bodies locked in a close embrace.

I can tell he’s aroused, I can feel him hard against my thigh, as his hands slide under my blouse. Our mouths unlock, and now his lips are on my neck, sliding slowly to my bare shoulder. I pull him back into another kiss, as I hopelessly try to pull myself together, but my mind is clouded by whiskey and desire, and soon I find myself taking his hand and guiding him to a secluded hallway behind the DJ station. Here I feel more at ease. S takes note and pushes me gently against the wall, parting my legs as he situates himself between them, and now I can clearly feel his erection against me, and it’s making my mind foggy and causing me to part forever with any bit of good judgment I’ve ever had.

His hands are cupping my breasts under my top, my skirt is rolled up and I’ve lost my panties somewhere along the way. As he moves inside me, making my body quiver and shake, all I can think of is the fact that none of this is real, that S is gay, that I am a down to earth conservative sort of gal who’d never in a lifetime make out with a random guy at a club even if he is French, let alone have sex, and that all this is nothing but a late night fantasy of a sleep deprived, sex deprived single mom who’s got nothing better to do than blog at 1:30 am.

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