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13
Percy
Friday 9:02 Pm
Ilove this fucking music.
It’s the kind of stuff that you can dance to all night. Or fuck to all night if you’re in the mood for that. Which—let’s be real here—I’m always in the mood for.
I can’t tell what about this music speaks to me.
Maybe it has to do with me seeing the notes dancing around me. And I don’t mean seeing them in my mind or imagination. The notes are literally dancing around me right now in rotating neon colors, coming straight from a bag of Skittles.
Fucking absinthe, man.
It’s trippy as fuck, especially since I’m watching two bass clefs double team a treble clef like it owes them money.
Maybe it’s the booze, but it’s actually hot to watch.
This place may not have been on my list of places to visit here in Amsterdam, but I’msohappy Becky suggested it.
Between her and Liam, they always know the best places to party, regardless where on the planet we find ourselves.
Speaking of Becky—or the other girls for that matter—I have no fucking clue if they’re even still here. We showed up as a team, grabbed a couple of drinks, and then split apart like Guns N’ Roses. I’m not overly worried about them though; they’re big girls and more than capable of handling themselves should anything pop up.
And given Becky’s current situation, I’m sure she’ll be more than capable of keeping Sammi and Mysti May out of too much trouble.
Not that she really needs to worry about those two.
Everyone knows I’m the party instigator.
If anyone is going to start an international fucking incident, it’s going to be me. And it’s going to be a damn good one I can guarantee that.
Go big or go home I say—and I always like to go big.
Rough hands reach around and grab my exposed, glitter covered tits.
I nearly forgot that I hadn’t been dancing alone.
My mystery man tweaks my nipples between his fingers, and it feels fucking amazing.
I reach down between my thighs and slip my fingers in myself.
“Mmmmm yeah,” I moan.
The man behind me grinds up against me, as I slide my fingers in and out of my pussy to the tempo of his movements. The scruff of his face tingles along my nape. His teeth pull at my earlobe with a growl that makes my ovaries explode.
“You’re a naughty girl,” he whispers in a husky European voice. Kind of familiar, but whatever. All Europeans kind of sound the same, right?
“Oh baby, you have no idea.”
“How about we play a game?”
I lift my fingers from between my thighs and slip them into the mouth of the hard bodied stranger behind me.
He takes them eagerly. His tongue slides over my fingers—like a man who found water in the desert—as the giant cock that he’s packing throbs through the fabric of his pants against me.
“What kind of game did you have in mind?”
