She bucks again at the sensation of my words hitting her inside. “Why women like beards.” Her words force me to plunge harder, knowing my hairs are prickling her very, sensitive bare skin. Sasha’s cries have turned into full blown screams, and there’s a knocking on the bathroom door. Someone probably thinks I’m killing her in here. “Don’t stop. Just don’t stop. I don’t care about the door.”
I do as she says, sucking, nibbling, pressing and prodding, doing what I do best. Her body finally jerks against my face so hard, my neck feels like it snaps. Holy hell, that was intense. Her hands cup around my cheeks and she tries to pull me up to my feet. “How do you feel about dirty mouths now?” I ask her.
Without a verbal answer, she pulls my face into hers and shoves her tongue into my mouth. I let this continue for too long. I can’t control myself any longer. “You want to talk about blue balls?” I ask her.
“I can take care of that for you,” she says.
“We need to get out of here first.” Which I realize will make my balls hurt a hell of a lot more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SASHA
DRINKING IS NEVER a good idea. But doing things I wouldn’t normally do when drinking is almost always a good idea. I think. It’s the only way I’ll do things I shouldn’t be doing or wouldn’t think of doing. Like this. Sitting on a public restroom sink with my panties resting on the filthy bathroom floor. The second this whisky begins to burn off I’m going to regret every single second of the last three hours of my life, beginning with making out with a stranger on the dance floor I’m pretty sure we made by pushing tables apart. What’s worse, or, maybe better, is the look on Jags’s face right now. I’m going to end up breaking his heart when I tell him I’m moving to another country soon. It’s another decision I’ve made tonight and it might just be the best decision I’ve ever made in the world of making decisions.
“You should put those hot little panties back on,” Jags tells me while grabbing at his man-part. He looks like he might be in pain. I can fix that. But he wants to wait until we get back home, or whatever I’m supposed to call a place that’s not my home, but I’m being forced to stay at.
We should leave. I mean this bathroom, this disgusting, smelly bathroom is starting to circle around my head, and Jags is kind of swaying along with it. This isn’t going to end well. I am officially out of control. And I think I like it. And I think that’s a song… No, it’s “I’m so excited, and I think I like it…” My hand makes a good microphone as I belt the words out to this very fun eighties song by…who is this song by? The… The…ahh… The Pointer Sisters! Yeah, that’s it.
“Tonight’s the night we need to make it happen.
Tonight you put your thing aside. …
We’re totally making pleasures in the night.
I want to wrap my arms around you
And if you dance reaaaaaal slow…
I’m so excited and you just can’t hide it.”
“Those aren’t the lyrics,” Jags laughs.
“Shh!” I reply. “You’ve lost control, and I think I like it…” Oh, those are the words I was thinking of! Wait, “I’m going to lose control.”
“Um, Sasha…” the swaying movement of Jags’s figure interrupts my concert.
“I know I know I know I know….” I sing.
“Okay,” he laughs.
“If I move around real slow, I’ll let it go….” I drawl out.
“You’ll let what go?” he asks, seeming totally confused. Jags’s hands are around my waist, and he’s lifting me up, I think, or maybe the bathroom is starting to spin in the other direction. I’m like a gerbil in one of those silly little plastic wheels.
“I’m so excited, and you can just hide it! I know, I know, I know, I want you…I want you…”
“I want you too,” he mutters as he slips my panties back up my legs.
“Doesn’t seem like it from that action,” I reply as his shoulder presses into my stomach. Am I upside down? That’s the floor. His arm is over my butt, holding my dress down but I don’t know if my dress can be held down, as short as it is. “I’m going to be sick if you don’t put me down.” I feel like one of