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“Where’d you learn to do all that?” I ask.
“Here and there,” she replies modestly. “I’m mostly self-taught.”
“Well, color me impressed.”
She giggles, and I love the sound of her laugh. Jessa finishes her drink and takes my wrist. “Dance with me, baby,” she invites.
My girlfriend doesn’t have to ask twice. I quickly down the rest of my drink and follow her onto the tiny dance floor, which is pretty crowded actually. She twirls and laughs when I catch her. Then she loops her arms around my neck and bounces her hips along with the deep bass. I hold her waist and follow along. I press my forehead to hers and close my eyes.
I must be the luckiest man in town. I’m used to girls who are either extremely forward or shy to the point of innocence, but Jessa somehow strikes a balance between those two extremes. She’s clever and feisty, but when she gets passionate about something, her eyes get wide and her intensity is adorable.
Then again, her personality suits her fiery red hair. And her body… Jesus, I can barely control myself around her. She’s curvy and round, and I love that. I’ve never really been attracted to women who are stick thin because it doesn’t feel nice. It always feels like I’m embracing a broom or a coat hanger, whereas with Jessa, holding her is pure pleasure with her big, soft breasts and lush hips. I’ve never met anyone so perfect.
Suddenly, someone taps my shoulder, and I turn to see a girl with too-blonde hair who’s wearing one of the tiniest dresses I’ve ever seen. Literally, this thing is so short that it looks more like a handkerchief and I swear if I stare hard enough, I’d be able to see the dark vee of her pussy.
“Hey there, handsome,” she coos. “Mind if I cut in?”
“I do, actually,” I say, turning away while holding Jessa tight.
Jessa gives her a mock pout. “Sorry, he’s taken.”
The girl shrugs and struts off, fluffing her hair over one shoulder. Jessa rolls her eyes and twirls again in my arms. As the pace of the music gets faster, she grinds her ass against me the way she knows I like. I moan low enough for only her to hear and nuzzle against her neck. This is heaven. But then, my dad’s voice sounds in my mind.
“Run as fast as you can in the other direction, boy.”
What the hell? I shake my head and banish Tom from my thoughts. It doesn’t matter what he told me because I’m in too deep. When I’m not with Jessa, she’s all I think about. When I dream, I dream of her. I don’t care if we last another month or the rest of my life; I want to see this to the end.
Suddenly, my girlfriend stops dancing. “Hey, babe,” she says, “I need to go to the ladies. I’ll be back, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get a seat at a table. Take your time.”
She nods, blows me a kiss, and shimmies off. I have the great pleasure of watching her ass sway from side to side until it disappears behind the door to the bathroom. Then, I smile to myself and stroll to a quiet section of the bar in the back, my mind thinking about what cocktail I should order. But on the way, a woman throws herself in my path.
“Wanna have some fun?” she purrs. This individual is unbelievable. Her hair has poorly-done highlights so that it looks like alternating stripes of dark brown and bright white. Her dress, if you can call it that, is barely even on her body. Literally, the thing looks like it’s going to come off at any moment because the straps are so thin.
“No, thanks.” I move to step around her, but I don’t get more than a few inches before another girl gets in my way, this one wearing a slinky red mini-dress.
“Hey, buddy,” she purrs. “What’s a handsome fella like you doing all alone? You want to have a good time tonight?”
What the hell? Are these prostitutes? Has the Salty Lagoon been invaded by women of the night? I’m going to have to talk to management about this because it’s crazy.
Ignoring them, I walk to the back and find a table in a dark, private corner. Who knew it was going to be a war zone in here tonight?
I run my hand through my hair, wishing I had another drink. After a minute or so, I see Jessa emerge the bathroom, her lip gloss fresh. I stand to get her attention, but then a trio of women gathers around my table. It’s the blonde from before, the striped-hair girl, and the red mini-dress girl. Are these people stalking me?
“Hey there,” purrs the one wearing the scarlet mini. “I’ve been watching you avoid us. What’s the problem? None of us good enough for you?”
