Brent grabbed my arm, and an hour ago, the first thing I wanted was for him touch me. Now I felt sick thinking about how stupid I had been. I had been about to sleep with my trainer, and I had Trevor at home. Hell, I wasn’t even absolutely sure that he was cheating on me.
Pulling away from his grasp, I walked away from the negative energy. Brent and his twig could go straight to hell.
Opting for the stairs again, I took them two at a time, jumping down until I was at the bottom floor. Shaking, I tried to make a decision: should I go home, or should I hit the bar and get a drink?
Drowning my sorrows always worked best. I headed to the left, down the street. I knew there was some bar I could hit before calling a cab home. No one was there waiting for me anyway. What was the rush to lay in a cold bed, all alone?
*****
The cute guy sitting at the bar was hearing all of my night’s stupidity. The beer went down easy and made it effortless to spill my guts about the night’s events.
I’d made a new friend at the bar. I just so happened to sit next to him and started talking. I thought he would be shocked, but the guy didn’t bat an eye at my story.
“So you tried to fuck your trainer, and it turns out that he has a girlfriend?” I didn’t know his name. He had just seemed friendly when I came into the bar, and telling him this stupid story was better than crying.
“Yep, I think that about sums it up,” I told him, swallowing the shot with one gulp.
“When?” he asked, staring me down with his coal black eyes.
Actually, this started from the first time I’d met Brent. Months of flirting had now materialized into something. I had finally made the move, but it had turned out to be the wrong one.
“Tonight. Right before I came here.”
It was as if he was making the connection between my outfit, the same fitness attire, and the story timeline.
“Oh... I get it.” He looked down the bar to see if anyone heard our exchange, but the music and conversations around us drowned out our words. “We could leave together and I could take his place. But only on one condition,” I nodded, playing along with what had to be a joke. “We do it the way I want.”
I may have been drinking, but my thought process wasn’t that far gone. I thought for a moment about what that could mean. There was only one way to “do it,” right?
I was down for anything that could make me feel better, so I replied: “If you can handle me, we can do it whichever way you like.”
I swallowed the shot he bought for me, touching his thigh in a playful manner. This wasn’t going anywhere beyond this bar, so why not flirt until my heart was content?
“Okay then.” He winked, licking his lips at me.
Sober, I wouldn’t have been able to have this conversation, but when I drank, I became another person. Tonight, I didn’t need to be Samantha. She always got hurt and ended up crying. Drunk, I could be a bold vixen, even if it wasn’t true. I winked back at the nameless guy as he turned to pay the bartender for his tab.
Ten minutes ago, the ringing of a bell had signaled it was last call and almost time for the bar to close. In front of me was still a shot of tequila and a beer. I planned to finish both before I stumbled out of the bar.
Harmless flirting before I went home by myself wasn’t a bad thing. I had never seen this guy before, but he was cute. He was about six foot, wearing a baseball cap and hiding his hair from me. A thin guy, but he had more muscles than Brent. Still, at this point, I didn’t want to talk to anyone like Brent. He seemed nicer than Brent too, but hell, everyone was nice when you were drunk.
He was cute, at least cute enough with alcohol running through my veins and under the dim lights of the bar. Maybe he would look better in the light, or worse, but I would never see that. I had no intention of running into this guy again.
“I wish you were the guy I was trying to seduce. You would have gotten lucky tonight.”
He laughed as I drank from the half-full glass of beer.
“Let’s just pretend. At least I can pretend to have a lady like you.”
I felt my cheeks get hot. His words seemed genuine; his eyes seemed to sparkle with the truth and he was far more sober than I was. But I didn’t know this guy. How could I trust him?
“Okay, I can do that,” I smiled at him. It was fun playing this game that would go nowhere. “What’s your name?”
“Kyle.”
I liked that name. He shook my hand, sending heat radiating through my palm.
“Nice to meet you. Everyone calls me Sam.” I actually gave him a real name—well, my nickname.
It didn’t matter. I would probably never see him again anyway. Bars changed, and people came and went. It wasn’t like this was Cheers or something; everyone didn’t know my name here.
“Likewise. Now, back to business. What about your boyfriend?”
He had to bring him up. I glanced around the bar, watching everyone leave, buying time to clear the tears from my eyes before Kyle saw.
“Don’t worry about him. That’s my problem,” I said, shooting him that same smile that I practiced for Brent—the one with a touch of seduction that was supposed to reel him in.
I swallowed my shot, first using the training wheels to ease the pain of the liquid, then licking the back of my hand, dousing it in salt, throwing back the tequila, and sucking on a lime for relief. It burned my chest as it went down, and I remembered back when I couldn’t stand this clear liquid.
“Wow, you are one hell of a lady. You’re not driving are you?” He looked down on the bar for car keys to snatch for my safety.
“Nope.” My speech was already slurred. I was officially drunk. “Call me a cab. I’m ready to go home,” I said as I pounded my fist on the bar.
“I’ll do that.” Kyle seemed nice enough. He stood up, putting on his jacket and helping me with mine. I followed him towards the door.
Outside, the cool air forced me to sober up. That made me start thinking about my safety. Being a female and falling down drunk was not a good idea.
On his cell phone, I heard Kyle ordering a cab. While he asked me my address to give to the cab company, my eyes wandered, checking my surroundings. I was about to rattle off my street when a mirage seemed to appear in front of me.
Trevor was walking down the sidewalk towards me. He was smiling, giggling as he walked. Some woman was at his side, her arm intertwined with his, wearing a similar smile with their faces way too close.
“Sam... What street did you say?”
“Wesleyan Avenue, near the University,” I told him, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. Maybe my tequila was laced, or there was some hallucination-inducing drug in my beer.
Trevor and the woman seemed to get closer. Walking slowly and laughing in their own little world, the pair didn’t even look up in my direction.
“Sam, are you okay?” Kyle asked, but I couldn’t answer. “Are you ready?”
Kyle had his hands on my shoulders. The spark and heat of his hands moved through my body. I wasn’t sure if it was the tequila or what I was watching, but my skin felt like it was on fire.
My heart stopped beating. Trevor had just stopped walking and kissed the woman that was dangling on his arm. She kissed him back, and a few feet in front of me my boyfriend—or his clone, or some alcohol induced duplicate—was kissing another woman in front of me.
“Trevor!” I screamed, hoping that the two people would disappear and I could go back to my previous drunk state. Instead, Trevor turned to me, still with the woman’s saliva on his lips, first squinting at me, then widening his eyes in horror.
“Sam... Uh...” He didn’t know what to say, and neither did I. My legs moved involuntarily towards him. My fists seemed to work under their own power, pummeling punches and slaps down on Trevor.
I felt like I was in a dream as someone from behind me pulled me off of Trevor.
“Come on, Sam, it isn’t worth it.” Kyle’s calm voice danced in my ear, but I could
n’t stop yelling. Trevor scrambled away from me, holding his face as the petite woman he was with glared at me, trying to pull Trevor away.
I cursed at her, at the both of them. I wanted to jump from Kyle’s arms and beat the hell out of the happy couple.
Before I could think, I was being pushed inside of a cab. Kyle rambled off some words, and we were off. Looking at Trevor through the window, he disappeared as we rounded a corner leaving him and his “friend” in our wake.
“Shit, Sam... You went crazy on that guy.” Kyle laughed, but for me, it wasn’t a joke. My heart had bungee jumped from my chest and crashed on the pavement. I started crying, tears streaming down my face. My feelings were truly hurt.
“That was your boyfriend, wasn’t it?” he asked, now pulling me close to him and trying to hug my tears away. I nodded as I sobbed hysterically into his jacket.
“Where are we going?” The cab driver cut into my crying, not caring that I was in the middle of a life crisis.
“Uh, hold on a sec,” Kyle said, grabbing some kind of napkin from his pocket and giving it to me, “What’s your address again?”
“I don’t want to go to my place. Take me home with you.” I blurted it out so quick I barely heard my own words. I wiped my nose and face.
“Are you sure? Maybe you need to rest. Your eyes are all bloodshot.” Every time I cried, my face and eyes showed the trauma, but that was beside the point now.
“No!” I told him.
I sat up, staring him down, showing him how adamant I was not to go home alone. I didn’t want to be alone, and I damn sure didn’t want to go to our apartment. Looking at anything that belonged to Trevor at this moment would prove a disaster for me.
“Okay,” Kyle said quietly.
He rambled off his address to the cabbie. I didn’t listen for it or try to make it out. My mind shifted to something else—my original plan from earlier in the evening.
If you can’t beat him, join him, my mind told me. Right now, I was all ears.
*****
Every woman wanted to be desired. Passion, or some physical attraction from their mate, was essential to a girl’s self-esteem. In the last year, I’d gotten less and less of that with Trevor until it was nonexistent.
He didn’t want to kiss me anymore. When we did have sex, it was quick and effortless; the same lazy positions, as if we had resigned ourselves to routine love making. I was always left unsatisfied, and when I showed any displeasure, it evolved into an argument.
Now, as Kyle and I made it to his house, we nearly crashed through the door, kissing and groping each other.
This is what I wanted; that deep passion. Even though it was brought on by crazy events, this is what I had begged Trevor for—had even tried to seduce Brent into giving me—but somehow, I’d finally got it from a stranger.
He was barely able to lock the door behind us as I tried to tear his clothes off. Drunk sex was always like roulette to me, but of course, Trevor always got too drunk to play. Maybe it was just me that he got drunk with.
Stop it, Sam! I yelled at myself, trying to banish Trevor from my mind. Right now, Trevor was dead to me.
Somewhere between the scene of me assaulting Trevor and Kyle’s house, I got intensely horny, so much so that we started making out in the back of the cab. Now here we were in his house about to go at it—or at least, I hoped we were.
“So, you said we can do it anyway I want, right?” Kyle asked, guiding me to his bedroom down some hallway past pictures I couldn’t see in the dark.
“Yeah, I mean... fucking is fucking. How many ways are there?”
He laughed so hard that he began coughing. I laughed, too, both from the tequila and from the nervous elation of finally letting go and giving away what supposedly “belonged” to Trevor. “Believe me, there are many different ways.”
Finally getting to his bedroom with nothing but the streetlights shining through his blinds to illuminate us, we began to strip.
“Well, whatever way you want it is what I will do.” I laughed, allowing him to kiss my tequila-flavored lips.
“Hold on a second. You’re doing this of your own free will, right? I’m not forcing you, am I?” He let me go, reaching for a light switch to brighten the room.
Tonight, I needed a man like him to fuck the pain out of me. Of course this was of my own free will! I winced, covering my eyes from the blinding light.
“I’m tipsy, Kyle, but I’m not stupid. I know how to handle my liquor,” I told him, taking off my own jacket. “I want this. I want you. I want to have sex with you under my own power and no, you are not forcing me.”
“Are you sure?” He studied my face. I didn’t say another word. I simply pulled my shirt over my head for the second time tonight. But this time, I was going to get what I came for.
By the bulge in Kyle’s pants, he was as ready as I was. Finally, someone that wanted me.
Drunk In Love: Part 2
I couldn’t tell him no. The fire in his eyes, the bulge of his cock, and the passion was too much to ignore.
We were naked in Kyle’s bedroom, but he’d just changed the scenery. The props he’d just handed me threw me for a loop. I was panicked, but I had come too far to give up and go home. Straddling him, I could either get off or do as he said.
He gave me two silk ties, and I held one in each hand.
“What do you mean tie you up?” I looked back and forth from him, to the bed, and to my hands.
“I told you that if we did it the way I wanted to, then we could do it. This is what I want.”
With no hesitation, I began to do as he told me, looping his hands in the satin ties and tying them to the bed posts.
“Tighter!” he instructed.
He pumped his waist as I tried. “Sit still, dammit!” He did as I told him.
I instantly wanted to apologize. I just wanted to feel him inside me, numbing me from the inside, so I didn’t have to feel the pain I’d incurred tonight.
I went to kiss him, but he stopped me. “No, don’t do that. I want you to slap me.”
I backed away, confusion etched across my face, “What do you mean?”
“I want you to treat me like you hate me. Slap me; choke me; fuck me until I scream for you to stop.”
I shook my head, trying to refocus. Maybe I was too drunk. I couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“I want you to dominate me.” The word sent off a light bulb in my head. Where had I heard that term before? “I want to be you’re submissive.”
On any other occasion, I would have thought he was joking. There was no laughter in his eyes; his furrowed brow showed me that he was completely serious.
“Um... I’ve never done it before,” I told him, trying to think on any movies or books I’d read on this subject.
None of those things were useful now with a throbbing head full of liquor and a throbbing clit ready to cum.
“Do it!” he demanded. “Do it, you fat bit—”
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, my hand connected with his face. A red mark formed before I could gasp.
He smiled. Dammit, he really did like it!
“Yeah, that’s it. Don’t like it when I talk to you like that do you...?”
I slapped him again before I knew it. This time, it was with with my left hand.
“You shut the fuck up. You speak when spoken to,” I growled in his face, getting close enough to kiss him.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
Something overcame me. I felt like a deranged woman from a movie I saw some years ago. I loved how she made her slaves acquiesce to her every whim. Was a slave a submissive? This wasn’t the right time to ask; maybe later when I didn’t have him tied to a bed post.
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled briefly, then looked away like a sad puppy dog.
I guessed he didn’t want me to see the glee and satisfaction he got from me slapping him.
“Do you want to fuck me?” I asked him as I
straddled his cock and watched the way it leaned. He had a nice, hard, red cock that I wanted to suck on, but this dominant thing was fun.
I tried to remember what I should do next. I guessed making him beg would be the proper thing, but first I needed to tie up his legs.
“Where are more ties at?!” I snarled, standing up and looking around the room.
“In my top drawer, mistress.”
Mistress; it had a nice ring to it.
I tied his legs to the bed posts and watched my work. A handsome man, tied naked to a bed with a hard cock sticking straight up ready for me to ride. Who knew I could do this—make someone’s cock that hard without sucking it?
Usually, that was a mandate with Trevor—sucking his cock before sex. He liked fucking my mouth before any kind of sex, and he never ate me out. It was like a commandment of his never to taste me.
Thinking of that selfish bastard, I felt my skin turn scarlet.
“Where are the condoms?” That was one thing I couldn’t do without. I didn’t know Kyle, and he knew even less about me.
He jerked his head toward the night stand, and sure enough, in the top drawer was a box of rubber protection. I tried something different; a trick I saw on late night TV show.
Putting the condom in my mouth, I placed it on Kyle’s cock. A sharp inhale signaled I was doing something right.
Rolling the rubber down his cock with my tongue and teeth caused him to flinch.
“Oh, you can’t sit still, huh?” I couldn’t wait any longer. This was fun, but my cunt was throbbing with anticipation.
Jumping back on top, I slid Kyle inside of me slowly, inch by inch.
“Oh, Mistress! How does it feel?”
I couldn’t speak. My eyes were squeezed shut as I picked up a rhythm. As my hands gripped his Herculean chest, my mind was fully concentrated on cumming. I needed to cum right now.
Moans were my only form of communication as I grinded his pelvis into mine. We started off slow, my sex cinching his. Then he started talking again.
Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica Page 2
