2. Violeta
I need an energy drink and a neon sign for my clit.
The soft snores coming from David filled the room as I attempted to fall asleep again. His bed was hard, uncomfortable, and he was hogging most of it. He snored loudly, moving around before going back to his soft snores.
This was stupid. Why was I doing this to myself?
I got out of bed, looking for my clothes all over the room, finding the most important ones right next to me. The only piece I was missing was my shirt but I think I took it off in the living room. Grabbing my purse, I pulled out my phone and saw it was almost two a.m.
We had gotten to his apartment at twelve-thirty, made out and had sex in maybe forty-five minutes—I feel like that might be too generous—when he immediately passed out, telling me we could go out for breakfast the next morning.
That felt like it was more than an hour ago.
Leaving felt rude since he had offered breakfast, but David and I were best left at this tryst.
I pulled out my notepad, scribbling a message and signing it XOXO, leaving it on his nightstand. I slipped out of his room, grabbing my shirt and shoes, walking out of his apartment realizing I did not know where I was. My mood soured even more.
Maybe I should have waited for him to take me to breakfast and take me back to my hostel or at least close enough to walk.
Sighing, I opened my phone to order a car.
Thankfully, it only took them five minutes to get to me.
This was the latest I had ever been out in London.
The closer we drove to the hostel I was staying at, the livelier the city became.
I grinned at the people still walking the streets laughing loudly and living their best lives.
It was shocking to see that some clubs were still open at this hour.
Watching London this late in the evening felt like my trip was coming to an end.
I had been here for almost a week. It felt like it was time to move on.
The hostel was still a little lively as I made my way to the female dorm I was sharing with two other girls, who were already asleep when I arrived.
I quietly grabbed my toiletries and walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Staying with women was so easy, everyone was mindful of the mess and space. Once I washed my face and changed into pjs, I walked back to my bed.
“Violeta?” someone whispered.
“Yeah?” I turned to see the German girl whom I had forgotten her name, looking up at me sleepily.
“I was worried about you. Happy you made it back,” she mumbled, her accent thick from sleep.
My heart constricted with happiness.
“Yeah, I didn't expect to be out so late, but thank you for worrying,” I said.
“It’s ok, we women need to stick together,” she smiled.
“Yeah, we do, goodnight,” I said softly.
She went back to sleep immediately and I felt a little guilty that she had worried even though she didn’t know me. Climbing into bed, I opened my phone to book a train to my next destination. It was time to see more of England and maybe more men.
Leaving things to fate gave me so much anxiety, I almost chickened out of getting on a train to Salisbury.
I did not know what was there, only that it was close to Stonehenge and the train ticket was cheap and at the time I wanted to leave.
It was only an hour and a half away from London, which blew my mind because growing up in the US, it always felt like going anywhere took too long.
I mean a ten-hour drive-in Texas and you were still in Texas.
I spent my first day finding a hostel and figuring out what I was going to do until I told myself that I was here to relax and stop worrying about the little things.
My anxiety still lingered, but baby steps.
That night as I laid in my lumpy hostel bed, I scrolled through Rendezvous, swiping right on a few of the men I found attractive and had a decent profile without women in their profiles.
My eyes felt heavy as the Rendezvous app pinged. It was the sound of a match. I opened my phone to see who the lovely app had matched with me. He was an engineer, and he liked hikes, nature and watching football—soccer football. As I was stalking his profile, he started a chat.
ManchesterU1996–Hey, you are beautiful.
XOXO22–Thanks. I see you’re a Manchester fan.
ManchesterU1996–Yeah, they are awesome. Are you a fan?
XOXO22–I like football. I’m more of an Argentina or Mexico fan.
ManchesterU1996–That’s cool. The World Cup is next year and Mexico has been doing well.
XOXO22–Here's hoping they make it to the end.
ManchesterU1996–Nah, England is going to win it.
ManchesterU1996–So, what do you like to do for fun?
I sighed, getting a little tired of the same conversation starter. I responded with generic things and as I was typing, another message came through.
Slick3000–Damn, baby you are beautiful.
Baby? Why was that an instant ick?
I sent Manchester dude his message, debating if I wanted to respond to Slick3000.
I appreciated the compliment, but I was too tired to deal with a man who chose his username Slick3000.
Shutting off my phone for the night, I slid into a peaceful sleep until I woke up in the middle of the night from the same dream that had been haunting me since I had run away.
Lorenzo finding me and dragging me back to get married.
ManchesterU1996, whose name was Isaac, was kind of cool.
After talking about football for thirty minutes, we finally moved on to a better topics like work and different hobbies.
He spoke Spanish perfectly—his English accent threw me off, but his Spanish sounded like home in Mexico—it was so sexy, I talked in Spanish and English because it was so cool to hear his different accents.
I gave him a glossy version of my life saying I was doing this trip because I needed some me time.
His mischievous smile told me he got my innuendo.
After drinks and dinner, where I was pretty sure he drank way too much, he invited me to his loft. We made out as he opened the door, a talent I was impressed with as we didn’t fall and he continued kissing me. He walked me up the stairs, stripping with a hungry look in his eyes.
As soon as I stepped into the loft, he grabbed me, kissing me stupidly. It was a little aggressive, but I enjoyed him taking the lead. I moaned into the kiss while I attempted to undress, his hands exploring my body, grabbing my breasts and then my ass.
“Bloody hell, Vi, your ass is delicious,” he said, his accent making it sound even sexier.
He backed us onto the bed in only our underwear, letting me lie down as he laid next to me, leaning over to kiss me again.
His hands roamed my body, teasing me, touching me everywhere except where I wanted him to.
I rolled my hip up, hoping he would get the hint and touch me, but he kept missing the mark.
“Touch me,” I pleaded, skimming his chest lightly and then over his cock.
He was half hard, a little disappointing since he was turning me on.
“Hold on, give me a minute,” he rolled away from me, throwing his arm over his face.
I froze, wondering what the hell happened. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I think I need a glass of water.” He got up without looking at me. “You want one too?”
I shook my head. He left the bed quickly as I thought back, wondering if I did something wrong.
I adjusted myself on his bed, propping up my boobs, so they looked better, laying in what I thought might be a sexy position.
A few minutes turned into ten minutes until I was worried maybe something had happened to him or worse he left his own apartment because of me.
My heart sank as another few minutes passed. I got up off the bed peeking over to see if I could see him, but he was nowhere near. Grabbing my jeans and shirt, I put them on as I went down the stairs.
“Isaac?” I called out, but there was no response.
Rounding the corner, there he was asleep, in a chair by the kitchen that I couldn’t see from above.
“Seriously?” I sighed.
A glass of water was in his lap, held by one hand, and his head slumped forward.
“Isaac,” I called out again.
He didn’t flinch. Fuck, did he die? That would be my luck that he died right before we had sex. I guess it was good he came down here and didn’t die on me. I shivered at the gross and morbid thought.
“Hey, are you ok?” I walked up to the possibly dead man. “Isaac.”
I hesitated before touching his shoulder. He didn’t move, but I think he was still warm.
“Hey,” I said, shoving him more forcefully.
His head swayed from side to side. My stomach dropped when I shook him again and he didn’t wake up.
No, this was not happening to me while I was trying to get laid.
“Fuck,” I said, the panic almost overwhelming.
I put my finger under his nose when he snorted loudly, rolling his head to the side and smacking his lip.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned. “You fell asleep on me?”
My hand itched to smack him. Before I assaulted him, I ran up the stairs loudly to grab my purse and shoes that were sprinkled all over the stairs.
Embarrassment made me irrational. It took everything I had in me to walk away.
I couldn’t believe this asshole had fallen asleep on me.
The second man who couldn’t get me off and I realized that the rumors were true. Men had no idea where the clit was.