One Night Stand
Page 1
Prologue
“You can still call me Mr. Tongue if you want.” He grinned at me and licked his lips deliberately, the tip of his tongue gliding back and forth, and reminding me of the night we’d spent together. The sinful night that I’d never forget. Only he wasn’t supposed to be here. In my parents’ house. Sitting on my couch. The couch I’d watched TV on for years. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to my parents. He wasn’t supposed to be looking so sexy. I didn’t even know his name.
One night stands are meant to be fun. They’re meant to be exciting. They’re meant to be adventurous experiments in lovemaking that don’t follow you home. I don’t consider myself a whore or cheap. I mean I have standards for the guys I want to date and hook up with. I even have a chart of things I look for in a guy. I don’t just drop my panties for any guy with a cute smile, handsome face and a wallet full of cash. I’ve slept with men that had no cash, missing teeth and even one that was prematurely balding, but they were all boyfriends. Yes, I’ve had questionable taste in men, but that’s a story for another day. One I’m not particularly proud of. In fact I still cringe when I remember the guy with the missing teeth going down on me. It made for an unusual experience.
I know you might not believe that I have standards now. Especially considering how quickly I dropped my panties for the mysterious stranger at my friends’ wedding. The mysterious stranger that was now standing in front of me. You might want to believe that I drop my panties for any man that asks, but trust me I don’t. Mr. Tongue was the exception to the rule. I dropped my panties without a second thought when I saw him. Well, actually that’s a bit of a lie. I didn’t exactly drop my panties. He took them off with his teeth. His cute, perfectly straight, sharp pearly-white teeth. Oh shit, my body can still remember his teeth grazing my skin as he pulled my white lace panties off. Honestly, in that moment I couldn’t stop him or myself. It was one of those magical moments that you see in movies. The chemistry was perfect between us, our bodies were on fire and all I could think about was him and his mouth; even though we were just one room away from a packed church. I never thought anything like that would happen to me. I got caught up in the moment. I mean it’s not every day you make eye contact with a green eyed stranger, and he leads you to a back room in a church (God, forgive me). It’s not every day that you meet a man: a gorgeous, sexy, virile stud of a man, and okay, yes he was slightly obnoxious, but I didn’t care. It’s not every day a hot stud has got you on the floor, with your dress riding up around your waist as he pulls your panties off with his teeth. And let’s not forget his tongue. Oh my God, his tongue did things to me that I cannot repeat. Things, I didn’t even know existed. Like multiple orgasms in minutes, yes, I said minutes. Like one right after the other. And all from his tongue: pink, long and extremely flexible. Who knew tongues could be so flexible? Not me. And of course, he knew he’d blown my world. The grin on his face and the glint in his eye told me that he knew he was the shit. Smug, cocky bastard. As I stared at him in front of me, I knew that he could still remember that day as well. I could see it in the glint of his eye as I tried to keep my breathing under control. What had he done to me then, and why was he here now?
I’d only been slightly embarrassed as I’d climaxed on his mouth. The way he’d eagerly licked up my juices from his lips had made me feel slightly dirty. I didn’t care though. I was still too busy trying to catch my breath as I jumped up from the ground, and pulled my dress back down. I started panicking as I heard the organist playing “Here Comes the Bride”. I had to get back to my pew in the church quickly and that also meant panty less as he didn’t want to give them back (and yeah, I thought that was kind of hot). I know, I have no shame. I walked back into the church that day feeling like a harlot. I’d let some nameless, random smug man go down on me, right before a wedding. Who did that?
That wasn’t even the worst of it. I went home with him too. And when I say went home, I mean to his hotel suite. His very expensive, very impressive suite at the Marriott downtown (he was most probably paying my month’s rent for a long weekend). We went to his hotel room and this time he used more than his tongue. And this time, I did more than lie back with my legs in the air and his face firmly planted down smack bang in the center. It was a night of fireworks. A night of explosive sex that blew my world and everything that I thought I knew about sex. I was ruined for the next boring man I dated. No longer would I be happy with quick foreplay and some push in and out missionary action. I’d never had sex so hot and I suppose that’s the beauty of one night stands. You hook up and do all the things you’re too self-conscious to normally do. Neither one of us had expectations. We didn’t even exchange names. And that’s why I left early the next morning and hurried out of the room, head held as high as I could as I did the walk of shame through the hotel lobby, my smeared mascara and messy hair telling my tale to everyone that viewed me.
I didn’t care though. I’d experienced the best sex of my life and with the hottest man I’d ever met. That does something to your ego. I felt like a million dollars and I was pretty sure I’d rocked his world as well. He wouldn’t forget me anytime soon; especially as he had the scratch and bite marks to remind him of our night for the next few days. It didn’t even matter that he’d seemed like he could be an arrogant asshole; the way he’d bossed me around the bed. I even kind of liked his take charge alphaness. It was good in the bedroom, though I knew in everyday life, he’d annoy me, but that didn't matter. He wasn’t someone I ever had to deal with again.
“You can still call me Mr. Tongue if you want.” He grinned at me and licked his lips deliberately, the tip of his tongue gliding back and forth, and reminding me of the night we’d spent together. The sinful night that I’d never forget. Only he wasn’t supposed to be here. In my parents’ house. Sitting on my couch. The couch I’d watched TV on for years. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to my parents. He wasn’t supposed to be looking so sexy. I didn’t even know his name.
One night stands are meant to be fun. They’re meant to be exciting. They’re meant to be adventurous experiments in lovemaking that don’t follow you home. I don’t consider myself a whore or cheap. I mean I have standards for the guys I want to date and hook up with. I even have a chart of things I look for in a guy. I don’t just drop my panties for any guy with a cute smile, handsome face and a wallet full of cash. I’ve slept with men that had no cash, missing teeth and even one that was prematurely balding, but they were all boyfriends. Yes, I’ve had questionable taste in men, but that’s a story for another day. One I’m not particularly proud of. In fact I still cringe when I remember the guy with the missing teeth going down on me. It made for an unusual experience.
I know you might not believe that I have standards now. Especially considering how quickly I dropped my panties for the mysterious stranger at my friends’ wedding. The mysterious stranger that was now standing in front of me. You might want to believe that I drop my panties for any man that asks, but trust me I don’t. Mr. Tongue was the exception to the rule. I dropped my panties without a second thought when I saw him. Well, actually that’s a bit of a lie. I didn’t exactly drop my panties. He took them off with his teeth. His cute, perfectly straight, sharp pearly-white teeth. Oh shit, my body can still remember his teeth grazing my skin as he pulled my white lace panties off. Honestly, in that moment I couldn’t stop him or myself. It was one of those magical moments that you see in movies. The chemistry was perfect between us, our bodies were on fire and all I could think about was him and his mouth; even though we were just one room away from a packed church. I never thought anything like that would happen to me. I got caught up in the moment. I mean it’s not every day you make eye contact with a green eyed stranger, and he leads you to a back room in a church (God, forgive me). It’s not every day that you meet a man: a gorgeous, sexy, virile stud of a man, and okay, yes he was slightly obnoxious, but I didn’t care. It’s not every day a hot stud has got you on the floor, with your dress riding up around your waist as he pulls your panties off with his teeth. And let’s not forget his tongue. Oh my God, his tongue did things to me that I cannot repeat. Things, I didn’t even know existed. Like multiple orgasms in minutes, yes, I said minutes. Like one right after the other. And all from his tongue: pink, long and extremely flexible. Who knew tongues could be so flexible? Not me. And of course, he knew he’d blown my world. The grin on his face and the glint in his eye told me that he knew he was the shit. Smug, cocky bastard. As I stared at him in front of me, I knew that he could still remember that day as well. I could see it in the glint of his eye as I tried to keep my breathing under control. What had he done to me then, and why was he here now?
I’d only been slightly embarrassed as I’d climaxed on his mouth. The way he’d eagerly licked up my juices from his lips had made me feel slightly dirty. I didn’t care though. I was still too busy trying to catch my breath as I jumped up from the ground, and pulled my dress back down. I started panicking as I heard the organist playing “Here Comes the Bride”. I had to get back to my pew in the church quickly and that also meant panty less as he didn’t want to give them back (and yeah, I thought that was kind of hot). I know, I have no shame. I walked back into the church that day feeling like a harlot. I’d let some nameless, random smug man go down on me, right before a wedding. Who did that?
That wasn’t even the worst of it. I went home with him too. And when I say went home, I mean to his hotel suite. His very expensive, very impressive suite at the Marriott downtown (he was most probably paying my month’s rent for a long weekend). We went to his hotel room and this time he used more than his tongue. And this time, I did more than lie back with my legs in the air and his face firmly planted down smack bang in the center. It was a night of fireworks. A night of explosive sex that blew my world and everything that I thought I knew about sex. I was ruined for the next boring man I dated. No longer would I be happy with quick foreplay and some push in and out missionary action. I’d never had sex so hot and I suppose that’s the beauty of one night stands. You hook up and do all the things you’re too self-conscious to normally do. Neither one of us had expectations. We didn’t even exchange names. And that’s why I left early the next morning and hurried out of the room, head held as high as I could as I did the walk of shame through the hotel lobby, my smeared mascara and messy hair telling my tale to everyone that viewed me.
I didn’t care though. I’d experienced the best sex of my life and with the hottest man I’d ever met. That does something to your ego. I felt like a million dollars and I was pretty sure I’d rocked his world as well. He wouldn’t forget me anytime soon; especially as he had the scratch and bite marks to remind him of our night for the next few days. It didn’t even matter that he’d seemed like he could be an arrogant asshole; the way he’d bossed me around the bed. I even kind of liked his take charge alphaness. It was good in the bedroom, though I knew in everyday life, he’d annoy me, but that didn't matter. He wasn’t someone I ever had to deal with again.
