One #2
Sipping from the glass of Patron in my hand, I winced slightly at the burn pinching my throat as the liquor went down.
It'd been too muthafucking long since I'd let my hair down and had some real fun.
Dancing in my seat, I smirked and watched people take up space on the dance floor.
The club was jumping and the music thumped through my body like a second heartbeat.
Being in this atmosphere was a breath of fresh air and I really needed to be out there.
For the past few months, my life had revolved around diaper changes, bottle feedings, burping, little to no sleep, and zero time for myself.
My eight months old twins, bless their little hearts, got me wrapped around their fingers like a bad habit.
It was a huddle taking care of them. The moment I put one down for a nap, thinking I had a break, the other one start wailing like the apocalypse was upon us.
I swear, some days I felt like I was losing myself in all this chaos.
I love my babies, don't get me wrong, they're my fucking world and my everything, but sometimes, in the midst of all this chaos, I forget who I was before I became a mother.
I forgot what it was like to be me, to have my own thoughts, and my own feelings.
Lately, I'd been feeling like I was just a mom, a caregiver, and a robot tryna keep up with the needs of my kids, while neglecting my own.
My eyes stared blankly at all the people who seemed to be having the time of their lives on the dance floor.
I was lost in my thoughts when movement at the side caught my eye.
My gaze flew to the right, getting glued on this fine specimen of a man that just walked in.
He was tall, dark, and handsome, and his eyes stared straight at me.
My heart thumped at the way he seemed to see right through me.
His gaze was like the first dose of an adrenaline rush in my system and I perked up, licking my lips as the all familiar throbbing zapped my pussy.
He was the kind of nigga I would let pound my pussy into a pulp.
His movements were smooth like silk, and I couldn't help but notice the way his fitted shirt showed off his muscles.
I felt vulnerable and shy at the way he was hyper focused on me while everyone in the club gave him their attention.
Trying to play it cool, I gave him a nod, and he smiled, showing his pearly whites.
“What's a beautiful woman like you doing sitting alone?” he asked, taking a seat next to me.
His low timbre gifted my spine with chills and instilled the beginning of fierce throbbing and moistness in my yoni.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by how he got my body reacting. “Just enjoying my drink. What about you?”
He chuckled. “I'm K, and I'm here to make sure you have a good time.”
I laughed, feeling a spark of interest caused by how bold he was. I lifted my left hand and made sure the band on one of my fingers shone in the lights. “I'm married.”
K arched his brows. “That’s a pretty ring, but it ain't gon’ stop me from getting what I want. Besides, you don't look happily married.”
The laughter forced its way out of my mouth.
The nigga was cocky and I was tentative about what could possibly happen.
I knew I was gon' get somebody attention when I stepped into the club and I was cool with it.
But K wasn't the type of nigga I wanted.
He was too cool, smooth and spicy, just like whiskey.
The nigga looked like he knew his worth and would be hard to ignore once he got fixated on something, and I didn't want to be that person.
“I’m happily married,” I rebuffed, feeling uncomfortable with how his eyes were staring me down.
Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was my fickle character, but when he licked his lips and looked at me with those eyes, I was fair game. He turned his head, a full smile finally on his face and I melted deep inside.
“You wanna dance?” he queried, standing up.
A part of me wanted to turn him down, but the rebellious part of me took the risk.
I stood and smoothened my dress, fully aware of him.
My cheeks started to burn when he looked at me.
He led us to the dance floor and stretched out his hand.
It felt like I was betraying my vows the minute my hand landed in his.
His thumb scraped my skin and made my nipples stand at ease.
The dance floor swallowed us as Sexting by Ann Marie filled the speaker.
The song was the good kind of filthy that breathed lustful longings between my thighs and didn't care if I was married or not.
I was sex deprived because my husband had been too busy to focus on what I needed.
All I'd gotten in eight months was a quick peck on the cheeks and all my effort to seduce him was met with rejection.
K didn't give me space. He stepped too close into my space, and I had to choose if I should be a faithful wife and step back or be a woman who needed a man's touch and stay.
I chose the latter option.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I allowed him to lead. He moved like he knew exactly what his body did to mine and I didn’t pretend like it was an accident each time his thigh brushed mine. He splayed his fingers on my waist in a claiming manner that took up space.
We weren't exactly dancing because dancing would have been a harmless movement. What we were doing was negotiating how far, how much and if I dared. My body arched into him before my brain caught up and I could smell his cologne.
“You fit me perfectly,” K stated with his mouth at my temple and I could feel his breath on my skin.
“I fit my husband more,” I argued.
“Then why are you still here? Hmm?” His hand slid down to the dip above my hip.
My wedding rings felt hot on my finger, and I could feel them burning. I touched them with my thumb like it would make me hold myself accountable and stop.
“I don't know,” I lied.
Because it was easier to lie than to let this handsome stranger know that I'd become so lonely inside my marriage that I walked into a club and let a stranger put his hands on me to test if I still existed.
“You do know,” he chuckled, sliding his leg between mine like he was crossing a line and offering me a choice.
The music was too loud for anyone to hear the way my breath broke. I should step back and run away because what I was doing was wrong.
He placed his mouth to my ear. “Tell me to stop.”
Giving me an out was the only decent thing he'd done since I met him, but I didn't take it.
Looking up at him, I met his eyes and didn't try to hide the hunger in mine.
I was tired of feeling untouched and unwanted.
I wanted him to see that I was a married woman who came here alone because her husband made her feel like a ghost.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I broke away when the song ended.
“Okay,” K nodded and stepped back.
I could feel his eyes burning on my back as I pushed through the crowd and walked into the bathroom.
Bracing my hands on the sink, I stared at myself in the mirror and noted my flushed face, parted lips and the brightness in my eyes.
It was a look I hadn’t seen since I became a mom first and Lani second.
What the hell are you doing, Lani?
I rushed to use the toilet and cleaned my yoni with water. Stepping outside, I turned the tap on and scrubbed my hands like I could wash him off me. As if it was fucking possible to wash off the way my body had leaned into his or the way I didn't tell him to stop because I wanted him to keep going.
The bathroom door opened and I saw him in the mirror before I could feel him. He walked in like he owned everything, including the air in there too. He locked the door and the click was louder than the music bleeding through the muthafucking walls.
“Wait…I…I-” He had me stammering, with my thoughts scattering like smoke on a windy night. “I just peed. I need to wipe my ass.”
“I can do that for you. Let me wipe you clean with my tongue.”
K lifted me off the floor like I weighed the same as a feather and placed my ass on the bathroom vanity.
In nanosecond, he whipped off every article of clothing covering my body and had me spread like he was about to examine my pussy with a microscope.
His hands trailed up and down my body, sliding over every curve like he was trying to commit them to memory.
His right hand twirled my hair between his fingers, before settling firmly around my throat, his eyes dropped down to my boobs which were leaking with milk.
Embarrassed, I shrugged and ducked my head. “I’m still breastfeeding my kids.”
“Kids? How many you got?”
“Two. A boy and a girl. They're twins.” Feeling more vulnerable and exposed than I'd ever been in my life, I tried covering my titties and he smacked my hand away.
“Leave it. I like seeing it. I hope your kids are cool with me sharing their food for a while.”
He smirked and pulled me close, our lips meeting in a fiery, passionate duel.
It was so hot that I could feel the fierce pounding of my pussy as warmth bubbled in my stomach.
Every-muthafucking thing faded into the background as our mouths moved in perfect sync.
His hands cradled my face, his fingers tangling in my hair, and I felt a spark ignite within me.
Our kiss deepened, and I lost myself in the taste of him, the warmth of his breath, and the way his lips seemed to mold to mine.
It was like I'd been waiting for this moment my entire life.
“Scream if you want. Just enjoy,” he stated when we broke apart.
I could feel his breath on my neck as he kissed my ear. The sound of his deep voice made my pussy moisten further.
“Hold up your boobs for me with both hands,” K commanded, licking his lips with his eyes fixed on them.