Chapter 2

Andrea

(Five years later)

Clubbing is definitely not my scene. I’m standing in one corner, eyeing the many bodies gyrating on the dance floor. Nicole thought it was a good idea to drag me here for my twentieth birthday. Don’t get me wrong though. I love a good party. I just don’t like being in clubs where everyone is packed like sardines. Sweaty and slimy.

My said best friend emerges from thin air as I think about her.

“What are you doing all there by yourself? It’s your birthday!” Nicole takes my arm and pulls me from the corner that has been protecting me from all the gyrating strangers for the past thirty minutes.

I reluctantly allow her to pull me to an opening on the dance floor that has a few people. The DJ changes the music to something more electronic and I begin to feel the sound waves encourage my wild side.

In no time, I’m dancing with Nicole. Twisting my waist, shaking my hair, running my hands through exposed parts of my body.

I’m in a leather mini-skirt that stops halfway on my thighs. The crop top I have on is black. Nicole likes to call it the braptop because it’s a crop top but it’s only covering my boobs.

Nicole pretends to rock me from behind as we both feel the music. Her hands are on my waist, encouraging me to twist and shake my hips, down, down low. Before I know it, I’m starting to have fun. I guess clubbing is my scene after all.

This is the first time I’m spending my birthday without a boyfriend. The previous years, I’ve always celebrated my birthdays with my boyfriend. It was all good why it lasted.

They were good to me and they think they liked me but I don’t think they could express it in the way I wanted. None of them treated me the way I deserved to be treated. So, I broke up with them, one after the other until the last one just a month ago.

I think I should just rest and focus on myself. I don’t want to enter another relationship and begin to question if I am asking for too much.

When I explained this to Nicole, she told me that I needed a real man. Someone who wasn’t our age mate.

“Real men have seen the world, Andrea. They understand how to treat women right,” she told me that afternoon in our bedroom.

“They fuck good, too” she’d giggled to herself.

I wanted to believe her but I’ve read posts on the internet that made me wary of real men who weren’t our age mates. Some girls who anonymously posted said that those men manipulated them and getting over them is worst because the men treated them so well, they didn’t know where to start to move on.

I shake my head to focus on dancing and enjoying my birthday. Whether Nicole is right is none of my business. I’m not going to date any man for a while, age mate or not.

We continue to dance and feel each other until Nicole’s hands leave my exposed waist.

Cool air rushes to the area her warm hands were imprinted on but she replaces them quickly.

“What are you playing at, Nicole,” I laugh.

“I’m not Nicole,” a deep gravel voice whispers softly in my ears. I was lost in the heat of my dance that I didn’t realize that my nostrils were filled with cologne. A really sexy cologne.

Whoever is behind me must be someone rich because the cologne smells expensive. A thought occurs to me as his hands glide up and down my naked waist.

It’s my birthday and I’m in a club. I shouldn’t worry about tomorrows and consequences. As people like to say, be in the present. I was going to be in the present and enjoy dancing with this man.

I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck. This pulls me closer to the man’s body. I feel his clothes on my body. It’s warm and soft and woolly. I’m emboldened to throw back my ass, grinding on him. The man’s hands on my waist encircle my lower body, crushing me firmly to him.

“Your good friend Nicole told me earlier it’s your birthday,” the man’s voice is now strained as if he’s experiencing intense pleasure. I grind even harder on him and I feel something hard and long behind me. I stifle a gasp as I try to imagine how big he is. He’s definitely not my age mate.

My hands glide up and down his neck and he moans in my ear. I’ve never heard a man moan before. I decide it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. I grind him and rub my hands on his neck again and he groans and moans. I feel my panties get wet.

The man says something like “Happy birthday,” but I’m so lost in the intensity of our dancing. Not to mention that I’d finished a bottle an hour ago.

I can feel the effects of the booze begin to manifest in my body but I cling harder to this man’s body. I may not remember this night but I want to make the most of my time with him.

He suddenly pulls away from my body and I want to protest but he drags me through the swarm of other people dancing.

We go through a door that leads to another room that is much quieter. The room is illuminated with blue and red lights. There’s a seating area to the right. He takes me to the seat and sits, making me straddle his lap.

I can now see his face. Before I can comprehend how handsome he is, he compliments me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments before crashing his lips to mine. His tongue runs through my lips, making me even wetter down there.

I cannot help myself as I begin to ride him. His trousers and my panties are the only barrier between us. It seems impossible but I think I feel him get even bigger.

Maybe Nicole is right after all. Real men were even better.

We continue to make out but we never take off our clothes. I wish we did because the way he kissed me and touched me under my skirt told me he wanted me so badly, he was probably going to die if he didn’t have me. What was stopping him?

I tried to unzip his trousers but he held my hand. He continued to kiss me roughly, sucking my tongue and biting my lips. I’d have been frustrated but his fingers were doing wonders inside me.

I rode his fingers with vigor. Before I knew it, I came. Then I blacked out because Nicole found me in that room an hour later. The man was nowhere in sight. It all felt like a dream.