My Type by Saweetie
Day 20
Ali was in the line outside the club. A place she hadn't been in in years. This area in the city wasn't a place that she ever ventured. It was definitely out of routine and off her route. A few of her younger coworkers insisted that they change up and go to a club versus that bar.
She hadn't paid attention to which of the carbon copy coworkers had the breakup. Three drinks in and she was just starting to listen to the others who were wanting to help her get over the girl's bleeding heart.
Her eyes looked out at the dance floor. Different cliques dancing. The innocent dancing and the risque blending together making the massive dance floor.
A particular man stuck out with blond hair. It could have been him if he had the vibrant red wings. His hands on his partners hips, drawing her I close and whispering in her ear. The display of affection pissing her off.
"He was sleeping with other women." The girl wasn't crying anymore, the alcohol making the girls cheeks flushed, her voice filled with venom, "Clearly they had something I didn't."
She thought about how angry the girl was. Anger. Ali wasn't sure she had had the chance to feel angry with Keigo.
Turns out she doesn't know her tolerance level and she went from masking to genuinely having a smile while she danced and drank with the girls. They were sitting at the bar again.
"You just need a hookup." One of the girl's spoke. Making Ali regret admitting to having also having had a bad break up.
"It would be a change of pace. Let's go fishing." The girl looked around the club, "What's your type?"
The alcohol making her feel more tuned to showing her emotions, she huffed thinking about Keigo, Hawks, the heart throb, the number two hero. It was irritating to think that her taste was apparently no different than any of his fangirls.
"I like my men older, tall, long dark hair, low energy and preferably no personality." She watched as her coworkers were taken back by her words. Or maybe it was the irritated tune in her voice.
"With a big dick of course." She smirks over her drink and hides her embarrassment for speaking the words. She normally didn't speak dirty talk. But masking wasn't just a face.
The girly coworkers started to laugh at her words not catching on to the front that she'd frequently put on.
"Well, I think that your type is over there at the other end of the bar." One of the girl's nodded toward a man at the end of the bar.
"He looks like he doesn't want to be here." Ali spoke.
She got nudged from her barstool, "Then go give him a reason to leave." The snicker in her ear and the liquid sin in her veins had her moving her feet.
…
It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time. Even if her vision was blurry and her mind kept drawing blanks. Her heart was racing and one moment she'd be thinking about the sweat that was dripping down her neck.
And the next she was thinking about how she couldn't grind her face any harder on the guy's mouth that was under her. His tongue entered through her folds and then slipped out and his lips sucking and suckling her clit.
When was the last time she was eaten out. Her hands gripped the headboard.
She didn't have a headboard.
Her thighs were shaking and she began to feel the liquid her body produced covered the man's mouth. Her body was on fire from the release.
Ali's eyes stayed closed as their bodies continued to move and maneuver through their tango. A dance she had long since danced. He filled her and the feeling of fullness felt like it was fresh out of a fantasy. It had been so long.
Thrusts that were long and hard. Pumping into her making her core twist and curl. Build a knot that waited to be undone. She could feel tears rolling down her cheeks. The pleasure felt so good and it was almost long forgotten.
Curses came from her mouth as she felt the man drill her to her release. Her body was shaking and it wasn't long after that she felt the man groaning above her.
The last thing she remembers giggling, moving her fingers through the strangers long hair, "I think I like black hair now."