A sharp intake of breath steals his abdomen. Ian watches me as I covertly unzip his pants and get in there. No matter how many times I’ve done something like this, watching him shudder as I stroke him to life never gets old. There’s a rush of power, of authority that takes me over—even when I’m the one submitting for a night. Because I will. For him.
“You get so frisky when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk... yet.” I’m tipsy as hell, though. Tipsy enough to think that giving my boyfriend a handy-j beneath a club table is a great idea. “I wanna get drunk though. Before I can do that, there’s something you need to take care of.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
I release him, scooting my ass along my chair as I grab my clutch and stand up with only a small stumble of my heels. “Me!”
I’ve been randier than a cat in heat ever since dinner. Staring at Ian—fuck it, staring at half the hot guys in this room—is making me shift in my seat and think of nothing but spreading my legs and taking it where it matters most. I don’t want romance! I don’t want sweet words of seduction! Pin me against a wall and fuck me!
He can do that. Trust me. He’s pretty damn good at doing that. It’s how we have sex half the time. Not always in public... but...
Ian is very good at taking a hint. He drinks some water from our shared glass and follows me, hand in mine as I lead him to the most private place in this club I can find. A corner about five feet away from the men’s restroom. Well, boys, you’re about to get a helluva show.
Sure enough, every guy who comes in and out of that restroom cranes his head to watch Ian rip my skirt up and thrust between my legs. I mean, it’s not like I’m being quiet or anything. This isn’t about lovemaking, sweets. This is about yours truly being too horny to enjoy a night out on the town unless I shoot a few nuts, to borrow a phrase from my boyfriend. I don’t trust myself to be sober enough later to have sex in our hotel room. Gotta do it now! Fuck me hard so I can fuck myself up!
“Yes!” I cry, clawing at him like a wild animal as he takes out his travel and business dinner frustrations on my poor, unsuspecting—ha! Yeah right!—pussy. “Fuck me! Harder!”
I have no shame. Especially in a place like Vegas!
Don’t give me that look! You’re a perv, anyway. Standing there watching us like a...
Oh, excuse me.
Things are serious over here.
I may not get the most earth-shattering orgasm in the world, but it’s pretty damn good, and I’m more than willing to lean against that wall shaking in joy as the man I love finishes himself off hot on the heels of my own climax. My only regret? That we’re not next to the women’s restroom, because that’s where I need to go pretty quickly.
Not that some bastard will let me, because Ian has decided it prudent to cover my mouth and throat with alcohol-laden kisses. He slips out of me, my legs slip down the wall, my feet slip against the floor, and next thing I know I’m being buried in affection while club beats thump and some guy whoops in appreciation for what our genitals get up to when left to their own devices.
“When I get out of that bathroom,” I say when I’m finally allowed to breathe, “we are going nuts.”
“Uh huh.” Ian is still in a daze as he zips up and disappears into the men’s restroom.
True to my word, we go “fuck nuts” when I am free from the constraints of the restroom and my own hormones.
One shot. Two shots. Three shots...
* * *
Music beats thump in my head. I feel... free. Yeah, that’s it. I’m free, flying high above the clouds because I’m so fucking high on life—and alcohol—that nothing matters anymore. I’ve got my boyfriend, a man as messed up as me, buying me more drinks and helping me pour them down my throat before taking more shots of his own.
* * *
“Oh my God, get me some Coke!”
“You want what? Coke?”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Okay! I’ll try to score us some around here!”
“Not that kind, dumbass! I want a... a... oh my God, I’m going to burp.”
* * *
“Dude, your girlfriend is so hot. She’s fucked up until next Tuesday, but she’s hot!”
“Thanks! I fucked her in the corner!”
“That was you?”
“Yup!”
“Dude, you go! She ain’t, uh...”
“Take it up with her!”
“You taking turns, lady?”
My shaky hand wants to punch the guy in the face, but it instead lands on his shoulder and shakes him slightly. “Take it up with my boyfriend.”