One of hottest guys I have ever seen walked into the hottest club in downtown
L.A. that Friday night. The room of women and men swaying to the music
froze, gawking toward the club entrance. My eyes scanned the room,
seeing what the sudden change in atmosphere was, and stopped on him, an
ethereal God, making his entrance into the spotlight. He was about 6’1,
and muscular, with dark brown hair, chiseled jawline and topping it
off, big, irresistible brown eyes.
I took note that some of the men were ogling as hard as the women; they
must have wished to be him, as badly as the women wanted to be with him.
I sat across the club in a dark corner, a glass of Bacardi and Coke
pressed to my lips, as I stalked him out with my eyes. He was dressed
head to toe in Armani denim jeans, high- cut boots and fitted shirt, all
black. He made his way across the dance floor toward my direction. In
seconds, he stood over me.
“Wanna dance, beautiful?”
I looked up, giving him a once over before meeting his eyes and falling
under a trance. He was down right walking, talking sex. I accepted his
offer and stood, my eyes never leaving his as I placed my drink on the
table near me. I didn’t need to speak any words, my body language do all
the talking for me.
He led me to the middle of the dance floor, blue, red and purple strobe
lights reflecting off my silver sequin Gucci mini-dress. I could feel
every staring eye giving me evil looks. Oh, well, bitches, tonight, he’s
mine.
We moved rhythmically, the music controlling our bodies as we pressed up
against one another and started to grind to the pumping bass coming from
the speakers. He was working up a sweat, and beads of moisture formed on
his forehead. I seductively rand my hands through his hair, over his
face and down toned his chest, and ran my finger under the waist of his
jeans, ticking right above his pelvis. He grabbed my wrists and pulled
me into him, grazing my lips roughly with his. I pushed him away and
waved my finger at him, mouthing the word “no” and continued luring him
into sensuous dance.
The DJ announced last call and he grabbed my hand, whisking me away to
the exit. I still didn’t talk, even when he announced I was leaving with
him. We headed back to his place, speeding down the freeway in his cream
white Boxster Spyder Porsche with the top down, music full blast. He
laid his hand on my thigh, working his way up under my dress and my
slightly buzzed head spun with dirty thoughts.
We pulled up to an Italian villa-style home with a perfectly manicured
front lawn. I couldn’t get all the details of its beauty straightened
out in my head, as my Bacardi cocktails were blurring all train of
thought. All I remember was the mad rush out of his car and into the
front foyer of this house, our mouths mashed together, tongues doing
their own dance and both our hands roaming all over each other.
He pulled my dress over my head, exposing my breasts to the cool air,
causing my nipples swell in my bra. I loosened his belt and removed it
before he lifted me up and carried me over to the fireplace, laying me
onto the deep plush ivory carpet. He broke away to light a fire and
brought over a huge black velvet blanket, as I waited, raging out of
control with lust. He stood over me, studying my partially nude body as
I laid there, and stripped down to his fitted gray boxer briefs showing
a protruding bulge trying to peek out. He took his place on the side of
me in front of the warm fire and pulled off my panties and bra as both
of our hearts raced fast and loud. Finally, we ravaged each other,
getting down to what we came here for.
He entered me and my back arched with his slow, long thrusts that sent
every nerve-ending into a tingling frenzy. Within minutes, he sped up,
and I knew he was ready. I remained silent as he let out an animalistic
cry when we simultaneously came.
After our intense love making, he rolled over and wrapped an arm across
me. “I love you babe.” He breathed into my ear when we were finished.
“I love you, too.” I replied, elated from our romp. We enfolded our
bodies together and drifted to sleep.
Having all the glitz and glam isn’t always what its cracked up to be,
and even the people who have everything get bored and need to spice
things up. Money isn’t everything and sometimes, the things important to
you need to be revamped, and all the materialistic things need to pushed
to the back burner.
And that, is my story to tell. This sexy man wasn’t just any random hot
guy that walked into the club that night, he was Chase, my husband, and
we were playing our game, spicing things up, keeping our spark lit.
