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But those blue eyes had known everything, I could tell. Mr. Martin could read a woman’s body like a book, and I knew, just knew that he could sense how my insides had gone wobbly, my interior moistening, my pussy sensitive and beginning to drip. Oh yeah, while Jonah had absolutely no effect on my cunt, keeping it dry as a bone, his dad made me want to do things that I’d only seen on-screen, alone with my Kindle at night.
And I screamed at myself again. What the hell was wrong with me? I was fantasizing about a man who was twenty-five years older than me and literally my boyfriend’s dad. This was so messed up, I couldn’t believe my thoughts were going down this path, taking this dirty detour. But they can’t kill you for your thoughts if you don’t act on it, so I let myself dream. Because it’d be amazing with Mr. Martin. The alpha male was light years more advanced than his son and his hands would be so confident, so assertive on my body, running over my curves with total assurance, total knowledge and worship. And it’d be right because I’d be completely comfortable naked before his eyes, letting him stroke me, touch me in all the private places that had never been sampled by a man before. So I sighed again. A girl can dream right? And my dreams led in only one direction … to Mr. Martin, my boyfriend’s dad.
So sighing, I headed back to the living room with a drink in hand, feeling morose. And even worse, I saw that Jonah and Sarah had disappeared into thin air. Great, I snorted. Just like my nitwit of a boyfriend, leaving me alone at a party where I didn’t know anyone. Scanning the room, there was no trace and I resigned myself to a couple minutes alone until I could locate them. They had to be here somewhere. No way they’d taken off to grab a slice of pizza at the local bodega or gone to get a drink at a local bar. So I leaned against the wall, trying to make myself invisible, which wasn’t hard given that it was dark and I stood behind a potted plant, the fern’s fronds almost as tall as me. I sighed. Nothing had changed really, I was still the wallflower from my string-bean days, literally covered by leaves as a raucous party surrounded me on all sides, the music cacophonous and almost painful, making my eardrums hurt.
But after ten minutes of hiding, I got sick of myself. It was just too pathetic and I made myself step out from behind the plant. I wasn’t the old Ally anymore, socially awkward, always the odd man out. I was a college girl now and there was no reason to be the shy pansy, act like I wasn’t good enough to be here. So I made myself stand up straight and take a deep breath. Could I do it? Could I approach strangers and start making conversation, make like I belonged here? But everyone looked so slick and fancy, engrossed in their own conversations, and it’d be too hard to butt in, to introduce myself as the new girl.
So I compromised. Instead of approaching strangers, I’d explore the apartment first, give myself the grand tour. At least I wasn’t hiding out, literally standing behind a plant anymore, and who knows? Maybe afterwards, I’d be brave enough to talk to some new people, introduce myself and make small talk, smile like I was confident and self-assured. Little by little, right? I was slowly becoming the new Ally, building up my self-esteem and I just needed some time to shore up my courage until I burst from the cocoon.
So I stepped tentatively into a darkened hallway, feeling a little naughty. Was this wrong? Was it wrong to be exploring a stranger’s apartment, snooping like an intruder, a burglar casing the place? But then I snorted and straightened my shoulders. This was Sarah’s apartment and the bitch had been so nasty to me that I was going to do whatever I wanted, manners be damned.
And cruising down an empty hallway, I saw that the place was just like the Martins’ apartment. The apartment was huge, with an endless row of doors and I sailed down the space, my footsteps soundless on the expensive pile carpet. Holy cow, the mirror on the wall looked fancy, with an ornate glass frame, the whole thing almost ten feet tall. I tiptoed cautiously like a mouse, afraid to bump into something, afraid to knock over priceless artwork.
But when I got to the end of the hall, that’s when I heard it. There was a loud whack, and then a long, whiny moan.
“Oohhh,” rasped a voice. “Ohhhh.”
I stood stock still. Holy shit, was someone getting it on inside one of the rooms? Right here, at the party? Guess it made sense, there were a lot of horny teens gyrating and drinking like fish, it was a lethal combination, beer goggles combined with loosened inhibitions.
