It's a rainy, humid, Friday night, and it reminds me of the night my friends and I went out to Hollywood to drink, dance, and have fun. That night, amidst the Asian crowd, I met her..
She was so stunning in her statuesque feature, long, ash blond hair, baby blue eyes, and thin, pink lips. She came to me, we danced, and she spoke in her drunken stupor in a language I could not figure out at first since she's slurring with her words..
"Je suis désolé que je sois ivre.."
She said those words again. This time in a breathy voice. The dance floor suddenly became warmer, and my hands began to sweat. She speaks French.
"Ich bin traurig, dass ich getrunken werde.."
She whispered to my ear again. It's another different language. Did that mean she spoke a different one a while ago..? I was still pondering my thoughts when she put her arms around my neck and bent down to kiss me. It was sweet. Her hands were warm and soft, her lips warmer and softer. I could not believe my luck! I did not pry my tongue in her mouth, not yet anyway, I did not want her or her friends to think that I am taking advantage of her drunken state.
"I said, I am sorry I am drunk. I only had one too many," she explained.
"It's okay. I can see you are drunk, do you want to go back to your friends now?" I wanted to hit my noggin for asking her the silly query, but luck was on my side. She said "no" and kissed me again. This time, she ran her long fingers through my long hair, still in the middle of the dance floor. I held her face, touched her cheeks and jawline. It was so smooth.
"Let's go to the powder room.." she sugge--- no, she commanded, and I obeyed.
Despite the humidity, she was wearing a turtleneck sweater, a pair of plaid pants, and boots. I was thinking she went straight to the club after work. I on the other hand wore my denim mini-skirts, red halter blouse, and knee-high boots.
As we stepped inside the ladies' room, I got a good look on her face. She looks European, Swedish perhaps. She reminded me of that paperback I read when I was in high school about a Swedish lady who owns a motel where-in the room keys were thrown by men into the pool and women would dive into the pool in order to retrieve it, therefore having access to the said room and its occupant. She's a decade, more or less, older than me. Her cheeks were marbled with blood vessels, and I am a sucker for those features. The three-inch heeled boots she was wearing only added to her five foot ten inches tallness that I was facing her B-cups when we got crammed inside the cubicle.
We started lip-locking again. This time more wet, more torrid, and more wanton that I could taste her jager-bombs mixed with my sex on the beach. Her hands were all-over my body and mine imitated hers. She cupped my double-Ds, squeezed it, played with it. I felt her butt cheeks and pinched it when she started to tread her lips and tongue down my neck. The cubicle felt so stuffy. She took my hands and brought it down her crotch area, yearning to be touched. I obliged.. I caressed her crotch like she wanted me to as she slid her hands up my skirt. I unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, stripped it down along with her underpants. I got excited when I saw it, and it was excited to see me as well. I started kissing it.. Then licked it.. Nibbled it.. And then finally sucked it.. She was feeling so ecstatic she let out a groan. I was enjoying giving her pleasures when the lady by the restroom's sink knocked on our cubicle's door.
We hurriedly put ourselves together. I left the cubicle first waiting for her to follow me, but her friends were waiting outside and I assumed they brought her home. I never got her number nor her name. Her friends were tall too, just like her.. I wonder if they too have penises as big as hers.
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