Tori Ch. 1byTori Dylan©
Part I: Truth
Fridays are no good for me, but come over Saturday...
The radio played I knew I loved you before I met you as Kennedy smoked her Marlboro light and the rest of us was getting high.
It's started as a truth or dare kind of thing where someone asked, after hearing rumors about what happened Friday night, if I loved Chris and it all just came out:
I want to tell you something, something about me. I am sensitive and untrusting, which, I am sure, makes me an unbearable minefield at times. I keep most of me closed off and away from the public eye. And the parts I do show, they are minor to what I hide. So how is it that these New Kids on the Block groups sing songs that resonate in me? I kept only one door open to my heart ... I did not know that anyone could see it ... I settled for the comfort of someone "good" loving me instead of waiting for "the one" that I loved easily and completely. This is why it seems like I am looking for something, someone. I am.
The idea that there was this "one" who would make me a better person because he saw me as I am, perfectly flawed. I would literally dream about the man with whom I had no fears. I could be as great or as little as I am without fear that I challenged his masculinity or humiliated him with my childishness. He had the imaginary arms I rested in at nights for years until I met Chris. Then, when my life got shattered, I brought "him" back to life. For a few hours a night, I dream of a better life with my someone else.
Well, I got over the need to snuggle into an imaginary lover's arms - it was the day I saw him in real life. Here was my chance to gamble on me ... to risk the comfort of what I had for a man who may not want me. At once, I decided to have him. No guilt nor reason could be as powerful as my desire to be in his arms.
They say around the way you ask for me, there is even talk about you wanting me - God that song make me want to dance - if it's true, don't leave me all alone down here, wonderin' if you ever going to take me there tell me pretty baby which way to go, tell me pretty baby cause I need to know - I need to know ..."
Its 1 am and I warm a virtual stranger's body with mine as I close my eyes and I am kissing "his" lips in my mind. It is a cruel pain I have: I am healed simply by loving him in my mind. But, now that I know he is real; I am powerless to do or say anything.
So I pour myself into my friends and the arms of other men so I won't think about him, call him, write to him, do anything that would betray the friend I said I was. He has trusted me, and I trust him. But I am a liar - I won't confess what is going on inside of me and just pull away. I never believe that the man I dreamt about was real, but he is, and I, I am driven out of my mind over him sometimes. I entertain myself with men that try to fill the void - but they are not the one. This is why I do what I do: because I broke my own heart when I committed myself to someone less.
I got off work and still had Saturday and Sunday to do my lab report. I earned the right to go out. I wore my favorite black form-fitted jacket. The lines flow well over my curves. The gray satiny skirt rides just high enough to cover my behind when I get going on the dance floor. At first, I thought I would oil my legs and wear only the jacket, skirt and a bra. But Chris has a tendency to meet up with his friends at Gillian's now that I like the place, so I had to play it safe. Of course it is not like I am cheating on him since our commitment has dwindle to a monthly hour, mostly out of habit. Anyway, after thinking about it, I find the black teddy with the thigh stockings more fitting for my mood, but I still oiled my legs.
Of course, I thought, if I do cash in a "credit" tonight, I had better do a full treatment. The feel of my smooth silky legs kind of turn me on so I decided to oil my entire body. My nails and lips match in the rich berry color and as a final touch, I removed the top button of my jacket. Then, right before I walked out, I called Shawn and told him I was going to the Club instead of Gillian's.
Shawn was my safety net. The freebie I would take home if I could not find the one I wanted. Plus, I hated going alone. I always regretted it because there have been missed opportunities because of the safety net. But then, I don't know if could have gotten myself out of the bad situations without him. So I better choose wisely.
The Club was loud and packed at 12:30. Shawn saw an old friend from college (who still dyed her hair platinum blonde) and shuffled her way. That was fine since Jay waved me over as soon as I looked his way. All I could think of is how much I hated moving to him and laughed at the fact that I was already saying no to him in my mind. "Hey," he said, kind of drawn out like he was well on his way to feeling just right. "Hello Jay." I like him better than any of the other guys that I usually dance with; he will let me say no all night. Of course, he makes me jealous when he starts rubbing on some "Barbie" because I won't kiss him back, but I can't get mad. I know tonight it will be different because whatever it is he is wearing smells delicious.
I pulled the nearly full Bud Light from his hand and took two mouthfuls. I must have had a different expression on my face because he went from that small grin to kissing me without saying a word. After seeing him here over the last 2 months he finally got it - don't ask, just do it. I suppose most men don't because they are afraid of being slapped or sued, which is good. It saves women like me from getting into too much trouble, too soon. I don't want to sound like I can't say no - it's just most times, I really don't want to.
Jay and I have our own little game we play - it something like "am I wearing panties?" His hands always play near the hem of my skirts. He must have loved the flat silky feeling of the teddy because his tongue came alive and long in my mouth and his fingers pressed into my bottom raising the gray cloth almost up to my waist. The small of my back was pressed against the edge of the bar as his knees bent so his mouth could suck soundly at my neck. I could feel the prickly sensation of a hickey forming in the pinch of skin he held in his mouth, but I could only make little throaty cries cause he had his leg dancing between my own. He grabbed my wrist and brought me near the center of the dance floor. I could feel the beat of the music pounding in my chest but my mind raced with the thoughts that I was finally going to have sex, even if it was not the one I dreamt about. (Then there was the issue of being faithful, not to Chris but the one I think I am in love with. I even spent a moment wondering it "he" would consider it cheating.)
Jay kept me barely on the ground the whole time, I was either balanced on his thigh with only the tips of my shoes touching the ground or swinging around like a ragdoll with his arms hugging me around my waist. He never failed to kiss me between bringing rosy circles to the surface of my neck and shoulders and soon it seemed that the kisses rolled into one that last so long my mouth ached. His friends kept handing me beers and soon my jacket was somewhere under our feet and my skirt looked more like a large belt draped above my hips. I was almost afraid that he planned to sit me on the platform and fuck me right there. But luckily for my scant bit of remaining modesty, he had not fully recovered from drinking so much. However by 2 o'clock, he was ready to leave. I reached down to grab my jacket, which was soak. I walked through the crowd and past the security with only my teddy and skirt clothing me. His car was farther from the Club than mine, but I was too drunk to walk straight. It wouldn't matter because he never started the car.
He opened the passenger door for me and pushed the seat back until I was lying flat. He crawled in on top me and closed the door. Our steam misted the windows while he pulled at the fasteners of my teddy. He contorted himself awkwardly to kiss my creamy wetness, but neither of us was comfortable in the cramped position. Jay rose and held himself up with one hand yanking at his pants with the other. I let him pull his zipper and then I grabbed both sides and pulled them down to his knees. He twined his free hand between my arms and pushed the black silk lingerie to my neck. He was quick to push himself into me while I tried to pull his shirt up... I wanted to feel his chest rub on mine. I should have thought about a condom but I hate them probably as much as men do. It was too late anyway. Plus, I was getting off just on the fact that it was spontaneous and passionate. His pale skin with the pale orange cast from the streetlight broken only by my brown arms and legs curled around him. I struggled to return his thrusts but it required more coordination than I had being this drunk. So I let him do to the hard work while I concentrated on holding the concentric muscles tight around his slick cock. His friends were talking and smoking at the hood of the car, one of them even sat on it - probably to try to slow the ferocious bouncing. There was a loud tap on the hood and he slowed down to a steady smooth grind. I was cumming a bit the whole time but now my pussy trembled and pulsed hard. Jay tried to pull away before he came but I felt the some of the hot semen jet into me and it set me off again.
He took off his polo and gave me his tee shirt to dry myself on. I like to say that it was a wonderful experience but I was left in a bad position because his friends kind of acted like they were waiting in line and he had nothing to say about it. I found some napkins in a Taco Bell bag and was able to clean up and dress myself - opting to wear his tee-shirt over my teddy, tucking it tidily into my skirt. He did have the courtesy to walk me to my car, all the while telling me how beautiful I am and great that was. By the time I got to the car, I wished he didn't ruin my afterglow with a bunch of meaningless shit ... I could have gotten that at home.
So I guess I never answered the question about being in love with Chris. I know it is because I hate to admit a mistake but I let the giddy effect of the pot work on my story and me while I wished that there was someone here for me.
Send private anonymous feedback to the author (to post a public comment instead).