He envelops my hand within his large one as I wave to Kia. “I’ll be back, Kia.”
“Okay,” she says, but I can tell she’s disappointed that it’s me dancing with Freak and not her. I’ll explain it all to her when I get back. I’m pretty sure this is all part of the strategy to get Aaron to notice me.
We move to the middle of the dance floor and start dancing when the deejay suddenly blends in an old-school trap song which I remember from middle school featuring rapper Little Wayne. I don’t know how to dance to something this slow and I’m not sure why it would be on in the middle of a high-octane dance music set. This tempo is for stripper poles only.
“I love this song,” he says as he grabs the beer bottle out of my hand. “Put both of your arms around me, Teach.”
Freak pulls me gently by the waist closer into his body as we sway slowly to the song. At some point, I finally relax and rest my head on his chest as we dance.
My core clenches tightly as I inhale his familiar scent and feel every hard hill and valley of his muscular body pressing through his costume.
This is getting reckless, I think to myself.
Then I begin sweating again.
What am I doing?
Willow
Since I’m training to be a nurse, I know a few things about the human body. Pheromones are real. If I continue to dance with Freak like this, and my vagina continues to do somersaults, a part of his anatomy will instinctively poke right through this thin costume of his.
It’s basic biology.
And just a matter of time.
So while a small part of me is curious about just how big that poke would feel, I remember that curiosity killed the cat, and decide that it’s best to create a bit of distance between us.
But Freak isn’t having any of that, and instead holds me more tightly, giving me very little wiggle room to move.
“You’re a good dancer,” he says in a thick voice that rumbles through his chest.
“This isn’t dancing.”
“Then what is it?”
Hell, if I know.
“I’m just not used to dancing this slow.”
He lifts my chin with his hand and stares into my eyes, almost into my soul. My body feels cemented into the very place I’m standing, and for a brief moment, it feels as if there’s no one but the two of us in the room.
“Aaron is a lucky motherfucker. You’re the most beautiful girl in the room. Do you know that?”
I gulp hard at the compliment but before I can answer; he stuns me into silence as he leans in and administers a slow but sweet kiss on my lips that I feel right down to my aching clit.
“Your green makeup is going to get all over my dress,” I say in a flustered voice, after pulling my head back to end the kiss.
“Don’t worry, it’s sweat proof and definitely kiss proof.” He smiles. “Let me show you again.”
“Wait–“
When Freak kisses me this time, there’s nothing sweet about it. He uses his tongue to pry my lips apart and kisses me with a confident deliberateness, exploring the inside of my mouth as I timidly explore his as well. He tastes of an other worldly concoction of beer and candy canes and for a moment, I forget where I am.
Who I am.
And the whole point of me being here.
I’m eventually reminded of the point when suddenly I feel Kia’s piercing gaze on me. She’s standing in a corner, out of the way of other dancing bodies, and her mouth is agape.
