Chapter 4- Over The Moon
I wanna thank the following for their reviews!
Heather Goldbug-YES RICK IS A STUPID JERK! Lol when I first read that I thought you were calling me a stupid jerk.
Princess MimiChica- I love Maureen too! And as for the paragraph, my computer was a bitch that day but I'll do better, I promise **whimpers**
Kelby- Yes I know about the format lol again, my computer hates me. I would love to see your piece on Maureen-maybe we could collaborate and do a story together-I love your Another Second Chance story!
Goddess of Ivy- Thanks for the review, I will keep it up (in between theatre rehearsals, school, work, etc. lol).
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ That was when I changed. That moment, when I closed the door to my apartment to go to the club, another door closed, the one that made me able to feel, able to truly love. As long as I played my games and won, as long as I made it so they loved me and hated me but always came back for more, I would never be hurt again. I never looked back after that night. Part of me wanted to cry every time I slept with a guy I had just met that night, every time I made some decent guy who didn't deserve my shit cry, but if I let myself feel, how would I survive?
I could hear catcalls and whistles coming from every corner of the club. I flashed a few dozen "I'm so sexy" smiles and then continued making my way to the bar. I got there, and flashed a smile at the bartender. He was a little taller than me, had long "surfer-dude" blond hair, and brown eyes.
"What'll it be, sweet lady?" he asked me, while leering down my shirt.
"A martini on the rocks-shaken, not stirred." I responded, and then ran my tongue seductively over my lips.
"Coming right up-on the house," the bartender replied.
"Thanks, babe." I said, and smiled.
A few moments later, he returned with my drink. I took it from him, and took a sip. The alcohol's burning sensation as it slipped down my throat made me feel invincible, like I could do anything.
"How's the drink?" asked the bartender.
"Mmm.excellent." I drawled, and then, "I'm Maureen Johnson."
"Adam Turner," was the reply. "What's a fine piece of woman doing at a place like this all by her lonesome? Don't you have a man who should be treating that body of yours right?"
I inwardly shuddered at that last comment, but I kept my face smooth, sexy, and impassive.
"I don't have a man, nor do I need one. So long as I get what I want, I'm fine by myself."
"Well then, Maureen, it seems to me that you're a stand-up, go-getter kind of woman. I like it. I should get back to work now. Nice talking to you."
Adam leered down my shirt one more time before he turned away to the next customer-a nice-looking man with spiked, blond hair. I recognized him as the guitar player for the band that had been playing when I first walked in. He was cute, but also rugged in a dark sort of way. I moved two seats down so that way I was next to him.
"Your band kicks ass." I said as a way to strike up a conversation.
He turned his head in my direction. His eyes held mine in a sort of sultry manner-sultry, but dark and mysterious all at once.
"You think so, huh?" he said, regarding me in a manner different than that of a leering, creepy, jerk.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I know so."
Seemingly both amused and interested, he stuck out his hand.
"Roger Davis."
I took his hand-it was warm, but callused from playing the guitar.
"Maureen Johnson."
"Nice to meet you, Maureen. So, you like the band?"
"Yes, I do. Very fun to dance to, but," I pouted, "There are no good dance partners."
"Well, when I'm finished with my drink, maybe I'll prove you wrong." Roger bantered.
"Or," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor, "You won't make me wait and you'll prove me wrong now."
Roger laughed, and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. Another band has just taken the stage, and they were playing a salsa that made my blood start pumping. I pulled Roger in close, and we started grinding to the fast- paced music. He smelled good, like sweet sweat and aftershave. His hands wandered up and down my body as the music got faster and more delirious. Our bodies moved together in one rhythm, one beat. I could feel delicious sensations flow through me. Roger eyes never left my face, and I snaked my arms up around his neck. His hands lost themselves in my hair, and then they reached up and stroked my face. I could feel the heat, could feel the grind, and God dammit if I didn't want him!
"You're a great dancer," I panted as we upped the pace.
"You are too," Roger groaned, "And also incredibly sexy."
I smiled mysteriously at him. "Well, I can say the same thing about you. You wanna go someplace more.comfortable?"
There was a question posed in my eyes. I knew what I wanted; I was looking at it. I was pretty sure he wanted the same thing too, but I was never one to presume. Roger smiled cockily at me.
"Sure. Lemme get my stuff and I'll meet you out front." I nodded, and we headed in separate directions-he toward the stage, and me outside. I could Adam look in my direction as I walked out. Ew.he was gross. Once outside, I leaned against the brick building and waited. Soon after, I could see Roger making his way from the back entrance that the bands used. He was carrying his guitar and he had his coat draped over his shoulder.
"Ready to go?" I asked him.
"Yeah-where to?"
"How about my place-it's only about a block from here." I purred.
Roger and I walked side by side in silence. The mood from the club was still there, just a bit more subdued. In the club, the music had made us forger we were strangers who had struck up a conversation at a bar-but the quiet, humid nighttime had made that realization come to life. However, the hot air was reminiscent of the air in the club, and I still wanted him. Once we reached my apartment, I started to get nervous. Could I really do this? I was used to stability and a relationship and.no, never mind that. I was no longer a woman who had to be tied down by rules and regulations and men. I was free and independent and had scored a hot ticket with Roger Davis.
"Welcome to my evil lair." I said in a mock-evil voice.
Roger laughed, and then said, "It's a nice place. You live here by yourself?"
"Yeah, just me myself and I." I said.
There was a weird silence, and then I said, "Wanna sit down? My bed won't bite, I promise."
Roger sat down and kicked off his shoes. Obviously he wasn't the formal type of guy who asked permission to do everything.
"So, Maureen, now that I am more comfortable, what should we do?"
I sat down next to him and said, "Hm.lemme think a second.", then I leaned over, grabbed his face, and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and his breath smelled delicious and clean. He seemed stunned for a moment, but then he was kissing me back.
"Mmm.." Roger murmured about twenty minutes later, when we decided to take a breather, "Good idea."
Breathlessly, I replied, "Oh yeah, I'm just full of them. Now it's your turn to think of an idea."
Suddenly, with the quickness and force of a tiger, Roger pinned me down and straddled me. With infinite quickness he removed his shirt, and then tenderly lifted me up, and took off mine.
"No bra." he noted, and a sheepish I'm-horny-so-this-is-a-plus grin overtook his face.
Slowly, he pressed me up against his chest, and then whispered, "Shall I take it from here?"
And as we proceeded to start kissing again, we fell backwards onto my bed. And later on that night, when our lust-stricken cries of passion climaxed together, I felt myself go over the moon.
I wanna thank the following for their reviews!
Heather Goldbug-YES RICK IS A STUPID JERK! Lol when I first read that I thought you were calling me a stupid jerk.
Princess MimiChica- I love Maureen too! And as for the paragraph, my computer was a bitch that day but I'll do better, I promise **whimpers**
Kelby- Yes I know about the format lol again, my computer hates me. I would love to see your piece on Maureen-maybe we could collaborate and do a story together-I love your Another Second Chance story!
Goddess of Ivy- Thanks for the review, I will keep it up (in between theatre rehearsals, school, work, etc. lol).
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ That was when I changed. That moment, when I closed the door to my apartment to go to the club, another door closed, the one that made me able to feel, able to truly love. As long as I played my games and won, as long as I made it so they loved me and hated me but always came back for more, I would never be hurt again. I never looked back after that night. Part of me wanted to cry every time I slept with a guy I had just met that night, every time I made some decent guy who didn't deserve my shit cry, but if I let myself feel, how would I survive?
I could hear catcalls and whistles coming from every corner of the club. I flashed a few dozen "I'm so sexy" smiles and then continued making my way to the bar. I got there, and flashed a smile at the bartender. He was a little taller than me, had long "surfer-dude" blond hair, and brown eyes.
"What'll it be, sweet lady?" he asked me, while leering down my shirt.
"A martini on the rocks-shaken, not stirred." I responded, and then ran my tongue seductively over my lips.
"Coming right up-on the house," the bartender replied.
"Thanks, babe." I said, and smiled.
A few moments later, he returned with my drink. I took it from him, and took a sip. The alcohol's burning sensation as it slipped down my throat made me feel invincible, like I could do anything.
"How's the drink?" asked the bartender.
"Mmm.excellent." I drawled, and then, "I'm Maureen Johnson."
"Adam Turner," was the reply. "What's a fine piece of woman doing at a place like this all by her lonesome? Don't you have a man who should be treating that body of yours right?"
I inwardly shuddered at that last comment, but I kept my face smooth, sexy, and impassive.
"I don't have a man, nor do I need one. So long as I get what I want, I'm fine by myself."
"Well then, Maureen, it seems to me that you're a stand-up, go-getter kind of woman. I like it. I should get back to work now. Nice talking to you."
Adam leered down my shirt one more time before he turned away to the next customer-a nice-looking man with spiked, blond hair. I recognized him as the guitar player for the band that had been playing when I first walked in. He was cute, but also rugged in a dark sort of way. I moved two seats down so that way I was next to him.
"Your band kicks ass." I said as a way to strike up a conversation.
He turned his head in my direction. His eyes held mine in a sort of sultry manner-sultry, but dark and mysterious all at once.
"You think so, huh?" he said, regarding me in a manner different than that of a leering, creepy, jerk.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I know so."
Seemingly both amused and interested, he stuck out his hand.
"Roger Davis."
I took his hand-it was warm, but callused from playing the guitar.
"Maureen Johnson."
"Nice to meet you, Maureen. So, you like the band?"
"Yes, I do. Very fun to dance to, but," I pouted, "There are no good dance partners."
"Well, when I'm finished with my drink, maybe I'll prove you wrong." Roger bantered.
"Or," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor, "You won't make me wait and you'll prove me wrong now."
Roger laughed, and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. Another band has just taken the stage, and they were playing a salsa that made my blood start pumping. I pulled Roger in close, and we started grinding to the fast- paced music. He smelled good, like sweet sweat and aftershave. His hands wandered up and down my body as the music got faster and more delirious. Our bodies moved together in one rhythm, one beat. I could feel delicious sensations flow through me. Roger eyes never left my face, and I snaked my arms up around his neck. His hands lost themselves in my hair, and then they reached up and stroked my face. I could feel the heat, could feel the grind, and God dammit if I didn't want him!
"You're a great dancer," I panted as we upped the pace.
"You are too," Roger groaned, "And also incredibly sexy."
I smiled mysteriously at him. "Well, I can say the same thing about you. You wanna go someplace more.comfortable?"
There was a question posed in my eyes. I knew what I wanted; I was looking at it. I was pretty sure he wanted the same thing too, but I was never one to presume. Roger smiled cockily at me.
"Sure. Lemme get my stuff and I'll meet you out front." I nodded, and we headed in separate directions-he toward the stage, and me outside. I could Adam look in my direction as I walked out. Ew.he was gross. Once outside, I leaned against the brick building and waited. Soon after, I could see Roger making his way from the back entrance that the bands used. He was carrying his guitar and he had his coat draped over his shoulder.
"Ready to go?" I asked him.
"Yeah-where to?"
"How about my place-it's only about a block from here." I purred.
Roger and I walked side by side in silence. The mood from the club was still there, just a bit more subdued. In the club, the music had made us forger we were strangers who had struck up a conversation at a bar-but the quiet, humid nighttime had made that realization come to life. However, the hot air was reminiscent of the air in the club, and I still wanted him. Once we reached my apartment, I started to get nervous. Could I really do this? I was used to stability and a relationship and.no, never mind that. I was no longer a woman who had to be tied down by rules and regulations and men. I was free and independent and had scored a hot ticket with Roger Davis.
"Welcome to my evil lair." I said in a mock-evil voice.
Roger laughed, and then said, "It's a nice place. You live here by yourself?"
"Yeah, just me myself and I." I said.
There was a weird silence, and then I said, "Wanna sit down? My bed won't bite, I promise."
Roger sat down and kicked off his shoes. Obviously he wasn't the formal type of guy who asked permission to do everything.
"So, Maureen, now that I am more comfortable, what should we do?"
I sat down next to him and said, "Hm.lemme think a second.", then I leaned over, grabbed his face, and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and his breath smelled delicious and clean. He seemed stunned for a moment, but then he was kissing me back.
"Mmm.." Roger murmured about twenty minutes later, when we decided to take a breather, "Good idea."
Breathlessly, I replied, "Oh yeah, I'm just full of them. Now it's your turn to think of an idea."
Suddenly, with the quickness and force of a tiger, Roger pinned me down and straddled me. With infinite quickness he removed his shirt, and then tenderly lifted me up, and took off mine.
"No bra." he noted, and a sheepish I'm-horny-so-this-is-a-plus grin overtook his face.
Slowly, he pressed me up against his chest, and then whispered, "Shall I take it from here?"
And as we proceeded to start kissing again, we fell backwards onto my bed. And later on that night, when our lust-stricken cries of passion climaxed together, I felt myself go over the moon.