THE CASE OF SYDNOP HOUDINI

I didn't know where that evening was headed,I could end up on a sketchy bar or at a tattoo parlor. Point is, I didn't end up in either of those places.

Let me introduce myself, my name is Sydnop Houdini, and before you begin asking, I'm not related to any magicians. I'm 18 and have the body of a wooden plank with breast implants.

Everywhere I go, I am surrounded by the malignant stares of jealous bitches. They crave my body, my looks, my popularity; but most of all, my boyfriends. I know this sounds really self- centered, but it's true. And I've never had a girl BFF because of this. Truly, my biggest strengths are also my greatest flaws.

On the night of February 31st, I was roaming the streets of New York City, bored out of my mind looking for either somewhere to drink or someone to fuck. It was then that I found myself in a very popular smooth jazz place, drinking a Cosmo followed by a row of jello shots. Whilst The Rhythm Method by Paul Brown played, a sexy stranger walked into the smooth jazz joint. He swaggered on towards me, making eye contact with me the whole way through. His eyebrow cocked and a smirk appeared on his lips as he walked my way. "are you a jew?" He asked in a low, sexy voice. "Because I got my eye on jew." the music stopped and the only sound was the sound of my dripping wet panties hitting the floor. He picked them up in one smooth swoop and licked them with his thick, wide tongue. After savoring the taste, he turned to me and smiled.

"How rude of me", he said.

"My name is Zayn Malik."

I was astonished, agog. I couldn't believe this sort of thing would happen to me. I was flattered, and quite a bit scared. What was next? A drink? Seemed unnatural, given he'd just licked my panties.

"How 'bout we go up to my apartment, this Paul Brown shit's getting me in the mood."

I couldn't even speak, at this point.

"S..su….sure." I said shakily.

He held out his hand to help me up. I was feeling a bit lightheaded at that point, having drank the Cosmo and the multiple shots. I could barely stand.

"Easy, there!" He said with a chuckle.

"Wouldn't want you to fall. Better yet, why don't I just carry you?"

I felt weak on the knees and empty of words. I feared he'd take my lack of opposition as a yes but I couldn't get a "no" out of my lips, instead, a tiny hiccup came out. "oops." was the only other thing I could muster.

"Don't worry about it!", he said picking me up in the bridal position.

The sudden action took me by surprise and I feared the sudden motion would mix up my stomach, causing it to empty it's contents on the neatly combed beard of my newfound lover. Lucky for me, no such thing happened.

It took a couple of minutes for my mind to fully process that I was, in fact, on the arms of the strong, sexy, Zayn Malik.

"Say, sweetheart?" Zayn asked.

"Yes?" I replied.

"I never asked what your name is."

"No, you didn't."

"So.. What is it?"

"You can call me Houdini, because after tonight's show, you won't see me again."

—

As we entered his apartment, he began wildly kissing me. Once on the lips, then on the neck, then on the cheek, back to my neck, down my neck, stopping at my cleavage.

"LEMME SEE DEM TIDDIES!", Zayn exclaimed with a crazed, lustful look in his eyes.

That's when I lost it, I ripped off al my clothes with a single swoop of my hand.

"TAKE ME NOW!" I yelled with ecstasy.

"ARUUUUUGA!" Zayn yelled as he violently fucked me into the shadow of the night.

The next three hours were spent making frivolous, crazed, lustful sex. One climax after the other, Zayn took me time and time again.

Once we were done, we laid there in silence, on the wreck from our crazed lovemaking. Suddenly, Zayn plucked a hair out of his messy beard and pressed it against my cheekbone roughly.

"Look, It's an eyelash." He said, in a tone that made me feel as if it really were my own hair on my cheek. He picked it back up and held it close to my lips.

"Make a wish." he said, standing up to go shower. I blew on the hair, making it land on the unmade bed under me. It suddenly dawned at me that I'd better be getting on my way if I wanted to make it to work on time.

Before I could leave, something on his nightstand caught my eye. A framed picture of Zayn with whom appeared to be his girlfriend. For some reason, I felt no remorse or guilt. The only thing that came to mind was how utterly lucky this girl was for being able to have what I'd just had for the past three hours every day of her life.

As I walked out of Zayn's apartment in Manhattan, I thought about where I had ended up last night. Not at a sketchy bar, not at a tattoo parlor, at Zayn Malik's house. I had ended up getting my brains fucked out of me by the guy most girls all around the world wanted. The thought of having something not many others would get brought a smile to my already grinning lips.