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That I am the island whore.
The harlot.
The jezebel.
The dancing thot.
In my mind’s eye, all I see are a bunch of naked, hard-bodied men, a slew of hard horny dick.
All for the taking.
Fingers popping, pussy on fire, I’m dancing as if I am a woman with a purpose, to have a good goddamn time. I shake my ass as if I’m a single woman, as if I hadn’t been fucked by my man just hours before my flight departed.
I wind down to the floor, then pop my ass cheeks. Bitches had better grab ahold of their men and hold ’em tight. There’s a weekend slut on the loose.
“YE-EHHHH!”
“Yehhhhhh-Ey!”
I sway back and forth, lunge forward, shake and roll my hips. Not caring if my breasts spill out. Then I quickly get swept up in the fast, rhythmic beat of “Flatten Riddim” as it vibrates through my body.
I start high-kicking and spinning.
By the time the deejay eases into “Your Loss,” a song by a reggae artist I’ve never heard of, Figaro, the dance floor is crowded, and I’ve worked up a sweat and a deep thirst for something wet…and refreshing.
“Damn, baby, I love the way you move,” a baritone voice floats over the music in back of me. I turn to see who its owner is, looking up and gazing into the eyes of the closet thing to perfection I’ve seen in a long time.
Lord, God, he’s fine.
He’s holding a bottle of Piton in his hand.
For a second, I stand here mesmerized, taking in his smooth milk chocolate skin and his Trevor eyes that look like two black onyx stones delicately set in big round orbs, before finally opening my mouth to speak.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” I say sassily. It’s a loaded statement, one he quickly picks up on.
He takes a swig of his beer, then licks a set of full lips that causes my clit to pulse.
“Is that so?” he says, waves of desire sizzling off him as his seductive gaze wanders over my body. “Well, I can’t wait to see what else that body can do.”
A loaded statement filled with invitation.
“If only you knew, boo.” I giggle to myself. He follows me back to the bar, telling the bartender to get me whatever I want. I ease up on a barstool and order a rum punch.
Grabbing a few napkins from off the bar, I dab my forehead, then along the back of my neck.
“Looks like you were out there having a real good time.”
I smile. “Life’s too short not to.”
He smiles. “It was fun watching you. You kinda had us all in a trance.”
I swivel my chair in his direction, crossing my legs. “Then I’ve done what I came to do.”
He furrows his brow. “Oh, yeah? What was that?”
The bartender slides me my drink. I take a quick sip of the refreshing drink, then set it up on the bar. “To give people something to think about.”
He laughs. “Oh, trust me, love. You definitely gave us fellas more than enough to think about. And fantasize about. You definitely knew what you were doing to us.”
