It was New Year’s Eve and I was determined to give 2008 the proverbial finger by having the best night of the year by drinking and obliterating the yucky remnants of a somewhat fucked up year. This included indulging in my favorite vices, smoking and drinking. Both of which I seldom partake in much anymore. I quit smoking a few months ago but fuck it…I wanted a goddamn ciggy tonight
“Ya got a cigarette?” I asked my friend once she was out of earshot of her girlfriend.
She nodded discreetly and with her eyes, pointed toward the exit out of the bar. The place was filled with women, the music was hopping and I was having a ball. Just minutes ago I was out on floor dancing with my girlfriend when another friend slid up behind me. I could feel her body rubbing up against mine thus making my beer induced buzz all the more pleasurable and me the happiest little perv in the place. I LOVE being the “filling” in a dirty dance ménage a tois sandwich. It always leaves me with a warm, fuzzy, and semi-humid feeling…Hahaha.
When the next song came on, I thought I’d return the favor…MY way. As she danced I snuck up behind her, grabbed her by the hips, ground myself into her while pushing her head down so that she was bent over. Once I had her there, I proclaimed, “YOU’RE my bitch NOW! ” followed by wild giggling at the look of surprise on her face! Hehehe.. Ah…such fun and games with friends. (I'm so playful aren't I?)
So, I follow my buddy out into the chilly and smoky night.
Standing near the entrance of the bar, we watched women come and go while making small talk when out walks a long dark-haired femme fatale in a white trench coat. Damn it that she had pants on…otherwise it would have been a perfect semi-naked visual and fantasy lol.
She heads in our direction, stops and asks if she can bum a cigarette. Mind you, I don’t even own the pack but say semi-seriously “Sure, if you’ll join us in the backseat of that car.”
My friend pulls out a cigarette, offers it to her, and lights it. I watch as Ms. Trench coat wraps her long, long painted nails around my friend’s hand as she inhales the first puff. Holding the cigarette, she takes a long drag off it, looks at me as if ascertaining the seriousness of the proposition, smiles and then says, “Have a good night ladies.”
Whew? LOL.
My friend and I both wordlessly watched her walk away, taking in the sway of her hips as she made her way out of the parking lot.
“There’s your story, Dylynn,” my friend says with a laugh.
I looked at her with a grin. It's minutes away from drawing the close of the long dry spell of creativity in 2008 and inspiration shows up in the form of a trench coat. Maybe 2008 wasn’t so bad after all.
Special Lullaby for An Insomniac Erotica Writer
