titanic violinist fade
I drove home quiet. “What the hell just happened?”
Next day, friend calls me:
“Laura said we should all hang out tonight.”
I said, “Bet.”
That night, we went to Top Golf. Then a lounge. Laura stuck to me like glue. My back straightened. Confidence restored. Superman mode.
Then we decided to hit the club. Laura said, “I want to ride with you.”
We got in. She said, “I don’t really want to club. Let’s go to your place.”
Say what now?!
I asked if she was sure. She said yes. Halfway there, her phone blew up. She ignored it.
Even my phone started ringing—our friend.
“She doesn’t want to come clubbing,” I explained.
Laura grabbed the phone. Hung up. Called again. Hung up again.
“She’s pissed,” I said.
“I’m a grown woman. Nobody can shout at me.” She snapped.
We got to my place. She turned her phone off. Pounced on me. Kisses. I couldn’t breathe.
She asked for the bathroom. Went in.
I collapsed on the bed. Then it hit me—
Remember your promise.
She came out. Just underwear. Showered. Smelled like my perfume.
“Oh, you’re here,” she smiled.
She came close. I grabbed her waist, slid down to her bum.
She kissed me. Then pulled me to bed.
You promised.
She undid my shirt.
Dropped to her knees. Unbuckled my belt.
You promised.
Pulled down my trousers. 🍆 sprang out like it heard freedom bells.
She slapped her face with it. Giggled.
Then went down.
Lord have mercy.
Fluid dripping. I gasped.
She stood, unhooked her bra. Dropped panties. Threw it in my face.
Climbed the bed. Grabbed her boobs.
“I know you want to suck on them.”
She kissed me again. Then positioned my 🍆
You promised. You promised. You promised!
And then—she sat.
I woke up.
Panting.
WHAT THE F*CK!?
It was a dream!
“Issokay,” I said aloud. Trying to calm myself.
Then I heard it.
“Are you okay?”
I turned.
It was Laura…
